Page 59

Gennaro was itching to open the briefcase on the ride from Columbus Circle back to the Bronx, but he couldn’t risk Toomey getting a peek at what was inside.

By the time they finally reached his place, he was ready to jump out of his skin.

“Thanks, Toomey,” he said as he grabbed the door handle.

“I’ll transfer your pay when I get inside.”

He opened the door and started to climb out.

“Mr. Gennaro?” Toomey said.

“Yeah?”

“Any chance I could use your restroom? We’ve been on the go, and I haven’t had the chance.”

Gennaro wanted to say no, but that might make Toomey curious.

Best to keep that kind of thing to a minimum.

“Sure. But make it fast. I have someplace I need to go.”

“Thanks.”

Toomey got out and followed Gennaro to the house.

Gennaro unlocked the door, then hurried inside to turn off the alarm, only to find it wasn’t on.

“Ricky? That you?”

Gennaro froze as the blood drained from his face.

He knew that voice.

There was no good reason the person it belonged to should be in his house.

Someone tapped his shoulder.

He jerked and whirled around to find Toomey smiling at him.

“Go on in,” Toomey said.

“Mr. Ramirez is waiting for you.”

“You—you knew he was here?”

“Ricky, what’s the holdup?” Pinkie called.

When Toomey motioned for Gennaro to keep moving, Gennaro reluctantly entered the living room.

In the dining area, Pinkie was sitting at the table, a sandwich on a plate in front of him.

Miguel Montes sat nearby, in a chair that faced Ricky.

“What you standing so far away for?” Miguel asked.

Ricky slowly crossed the room until he was a few feet from the table.

“Good to see you, Ricky,” Pinkie said.

He picked up his sandwich.

“Hope you don’t mind, but I used the last of your sliced ham.”

“Hi, Pinkie,” Gennaro said.

“Th-that’s not a problem at all. You’re welcome to whatever you want.”

“You hear that, Miguel?”

“Yeah, I heard it,” Miguel said.

“That’s very generous of you, Ricky.”

Pinkie took a bite, then pointed at the empty seat across from Miguel and motioned for Ricky to take it.

“I’m fine,” Gennaro said.

“Pinkie wasn’t asking if you wanted to,” Miguel said.

“Toomey?”

Toomey shoved Gennaro from behind, and Gennaro stumbled into the chair.

“Careful, Ricky,” Pinkie said.

“You could hurt yourself.”

Gennaro straightened up and looked at Pinkie.

“Sorry about…” He trailed off as he noticed two more men through the doorway to the kitchen, behind Pinkie.

The guy standing was one of Pinkie’s regulars, Scotty something or other.

What bewildered Gennaro, however, was the gagged guy with zip-tied hands sitting in a chair in front of Scotty.

Picking up on his confusion, Pinkie glanced over his shoulder.

“That’s right. You know Stefan, don’t you?”

“What’s he doing here?”

“Funny story, that. Stefan apparently has some kind of beef with you. I was worried whatever he had in mind might interfere with our chat. So, I did us both a favor and got him out of the way.”

“I don’t have beef with him,” Gennaro said.

“I barely know him.”

Stefan shouted something unintelligible through the gag.

Scotty slapped him in the back of the head, putting a quick end to the outburst.

“He seems a bit unbalanced, so that doesn’t surprise me,” Pinkie said.

“We’re not here to talk about your friend, though,” Miguel said.

“No, we are not.” Pinkie looked pointedly at the seat he wanted Gennaro to take.

The chair, Gennaro realized, was close to one of the two guns he hid in clips under the table.

As Gennaro sat, he nonchalantly slid the briefcase under the table.

“No, no, no,” Pinkie said.

“You should set that up here. There’s plenty of room.”

“It’s okay. It’s fine down—”

“Toomey,” Miguel said.

Toomey grabbed the briefcase and set it on the table between Gennaro and Pinkie.

The Range Rover was parked a block down and around the corner from the house Gennaro and the other guy had just gone into.

Jack reached for his door handle.

“Hold on,” Stone said.

“I think going in unarmed is a bad idea.”

“I’m not unarmed,” Jack said and lifted the flap of his jacket, exposing a pistol in a shoulder holster.

“Well, I am.”

“Mr. Barrington, if I may,” Alicia said.

“Yes, Alicia?”

“Uncle Fred said you often forget your weapon when you need it most and instructed me to bring one of his along. If you will look into the back, there’s a pistol case directly behind the seat.”

Stone retrieved the case and removed a Glock 45 from inside.

“Remind me to thank him the next time I see him.”

“I will, sir. Also, he said if you end up using it, he will make sure the police know that he gave you permission.”

“Remind me to give him a raise when I thank him.”

“As you wish.”

“We should go,” Jack said.

“He’ll discover he’s not as rich as he thinks he is any second now, which should provide an excellent distraction for us to get to him.”

Stone slipped Fred’s gun into his suit pocket so it wouldn’t be obvious while he walked down the street.

“I think I should come with you, too,” Watkins said.

“Mr. Freeman would not look kindly on me if I stayed behind.”

Stone nodded.

“But you’ll need to stay at the front door when we go inside.”

“Understood.”

“So, Ricky, what’s in the briefcase?” Pinkie said.

“Business papers.”

“What kind of business papers?”

“Nothing important.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, your business is my business, is it not? Unless you’ve gotten yourself involved in something you haven’t told me about.”

“Of course not, Pinkie. I’d never do that to you. It’s just records and stuff. Things not worth your time troubling over.”

“But they are my records, because your business is my business.”

“Um, yeah, sure.”

“Open the case.”

“I swear, there’s nothing—”

Miguel pulled out a gun and set it on the table.

“You heard Pinkie. Open the case.”

Stefan had no idea what Gennaro had done to piss these guys off, but there was no doubt that’s exactly what he had done.

Stefan supposed it could have something to do with that score Gennaro had planned, but at this point, he couldn’t care less what the reason was.

He only knew that if he didn’t get out of here soon, there was a very good chance he’d end up dead.

He could figure out how to get his revenge on all of them later.

The one advantage he had was that while his wrists were zip-tied together and a gag was tied around his head, they’d left his legs unbound so they could walk him wherever they wanted him.

All he needed now was an opportunity to run.

And from the growing tension in the dining room, he had a feeling one would be presenting itself soon.

Gennaro knew he had only one chance to get the gun and turn the situation in his favor.

The key was to distract them, and there was nothing more distracting than a million dollars in cash.

“Sure, Pinkie,” he said.

“I’ll open it.”

He flipped open the latches, then turned the case so the contents faced Pinkie and Miguel, and the briefcase lid was between him and them.

“Oh, my!” Pinkie said.

“What do we have here?”

When Miguel reached toward the case to pick up one of the packets, Gennaro noticed Toomey also moved closer to Pinkie to see inside the case.

That was Gennaro’s cue.

He reached under the table.

As Gennaro freed the gun, Miguel said, “What is this? Some kind of joke?”

Ignoring him, Gennaro pushed out of his chair, and whipped up the gun, his aim moving between Pinkie, Miguel, and Toomey.

Pinkie glared at him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“The money’s mine,” Gennaro said.

He jutted his chin at the bills Miguel was holding.

“Put it back.”

Miguel snorted.

“You want this? You can have it.”

He tossed the bills onto the table in front of Gennaro, and several notes slipped out of the band.

Gennaro glanced at them, then blinked and glanced again.

All but one were one-dollar bills.

Gennaro couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing.

As he reached for them, he caught movement across the table and looked up in time to see Miguel grabbing his gun.

Without thinking, Gennaro pulled his trigger.

Miguel slammed back in his chair, a hole in his forehead.

Gennaro pointed his gun at Pinkie, as Toomey yanked out his pistol and aimed it at Gennaro.

“Drop it or I shoot Pinkie,” Gennaro said to him.

Pinkie raised his hands, palms out.

“Let’s not make this worse than it already is. Ricky, put that thing away and we can talk, okay?”

“Tell Toomey to drop his gun, or I swear I’ll kill you.”

“Come on, Ricky,” Pinkie said.

“There’s no need to—”

“Tell him!”

The man who’d been guarding Stefan crept past him toward the dining room, using the guy named Toomey to shield his movement.

The second Stefan was sure no one had eyes on him, he stood and rushed toward the back of the house.

He knew if he tried to use the door, someone might shoot him in the back before he could get it open.

So he went with the only option that guaranteed to get him outside, and dove through the window on the back wall.

A cacophony of breaking glass came from the kitchen.

Everyone turned toward the noise, including Toomey, who by doing so inadvertently revealed Scotty’s attempt to sneak up to the doorway and get the drop on Gennaro.

Gennaro’s gun boomed again, the bullet catching Scotty in the throat just as Scotty pulled his own trigger.

The impact threw Scotty’s aim off, sending his return shot low, hitting Gennaro in the thigh instead of the intended center mass.

Gennaro was so amped up on adrenaline and terror that he didn’t even realize he’d been shot, let alone that the bullet had nicked his femoral artery.

He immediately switched his aim to Toomey and sent a round into the backstabber’s chest before Toomey had a chance to do anything, then he aimed his barrel at Pinkie again.

Pinkie’s hands were shaking, and his brow was covered with sweat.

He no longer looked like the confident crime boss Ricky had been accustomed to seeing all these years.

“Ricky, there’s no reason for anyone else to get hurt,” Pinkie said.

“We’re family, remember? Listen, I can get this all cleaned up and make sure nothing blows back on you. I just need you to put the gun away.”

“What were you trying to pull?” Gennaro demanded.

A crease appeared on Pinkie’s brow.

“Pull? I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m talking about my money.” He shot a glance at the bills Miguel had tossed down.

“That’s not mine. Miguel…Miguel had those hidden on him, didn’t he? You guys were trying to convince me it was from the briefcase.”

“Why would we do that?”

“I don’t know. Some kind of plan to trick me out of what was mine.”

“Ricky, Miguel wasn’t tricking you.”

“You’re lying!”

“Check for yourself,” Pinkie said, motioning to the open briefcase with his eyes.

Gennaro stared at him for a long moment, then twisted the briefcase around with his free hand so that the cash was facing him.

“Don’t you move!” he ordered.

“I won’t. I promise.”

Gennaro took a quick look at the briefcase.

As expected, it was full of money, all one-hundred-dollar bills.

“Nice try,” he said to Pinkie.

“It’s all there.”

Pinkie frowned as if he were disappointed, then shook his head.

“If you’re that easily deceived, it’s a wonder you’ve gotten as far as you have.”

Gennaro thrusted the gun toward him a few inches.

“Shut up!”

“Check the bills.”

“I said shut up!”

Pinkie shrugged and leaned back, saying nothing.

Gennaro held out for exactly five seconds before he blindly grabbed one of the packets and lifted it high enough so he could see it while keeping an eye on Pinkie.

He thumbed through them.

The only hundred was the bill on top.

The rest were ones.

“What the fuck?”

As he picked up another packet, the room seemed to momentarily spin.

He ignored the sensation as best he could and checked the new bills.

More ones.

He looked down and he could now see that the packets below the top layer didn’t even have a hundred-dollar bill on top.

His first thought was that Fratelli had played him.

But then another thought hit him.

More an image, really, of the two duffel bags Rosa had been carrying when she’d brought him the case.

“No,” he whispered to himself, not wanting to believe she’d betray him like that.

“It couldn’t be—”

He heard the floor creak, and he jerked his head up.

Pinkie was no longer in his chair but was lifting the gun that had been on the floor next to Toomey.

The room swam again as Gennaro pulled his trigger.

Pinkie let off a shot as he stumbled backward.

Then both men fired again for the last time.