5
Gerry and Yolanda left the kitchen without saying a word. Valentine glanced into his granddaughter’s face as her mother carried her out. Lois hadn’t stirred throughout the whole commotion.
Hearing the front door close, Valentine frisked Vinny and the boxer while they lay on the floor. They were both clean, and he threw cold water on their faces and made them get up. With the Sig Sauer, he pointed at the sink.
“Get the blood off your face,” he told the boxer.
The boxer splashed his face with cold water. When he was finished he pulled on his front teeth and seemed pleased that none were broken. Valentine picked up a dishrag and tossed it to him.
“Now clean up the floor.”
The boxer got on his knees, and cleaned up the bloodstain. As a cop, Valentine had learned that there were two ways to deal with lowlifes. The first was through brute force, the second intimidation. He told Vinny and the boxer to take our their wallets and hand him their driver’s licenses. The two men obeyed.
Valentine wrote their names, social security numbers, addresses, and driver ID numbers on a piece of paper. They were both residents of Atlantic City, and the boxer’s name was Frank DeCesar. Valentine told him to pick up the digital camera on the windowsill above the sink.
“Toss it here.”
Frank tossed him the camera, and Valentine pointed it at them.
“Say cheese,” he said, and snapped a picture.
The picture came out just fine. Valentine placed the camera on the kitchen table, then pointed at the door with his Sig Sauer.
“Let’s go.”
“You’re Gerry’s father, aren’t you?” Vinny said as they walked through the house.
“No, we just look alike,” Valentine said.
“Look, Mr. Valentine, this isn’t what you think. Frank and I came here to present Gerry with a business proposition, that’s all.”
“Let me guess. You want to open a pizza parlor together.”
The two hoodlums stopped at the front door. Vinny was dumb enough to think he was being serious. “It’s a little more involved than that, not that I want to bore you with the financial stuff. But our call is strictly business. We did not come here to harm your son or daughter-in-law, or granddaughter, who I must say is a beautiful little child.”
Vinny had a face that only a mother could love — sallow eyes, crooked nose, and two rows of teeth that looked like a rotted picket fence. His strength seemed to be his ability to string words together. Valentine pointed the Sig Sauer at Vinny’s chest.
“Don’t ever mention her again.”
“Her?”
“My granddaughter,” Valentine said.
“No, sir, I won’t.”
They walked out the front door of Gerry’s house. It had grown dark, and a lone streetlight illuminated the block that Valentine called home. He watched Vinny and the boxer get into the rental. Vinny looked around in a panic.
“Where’s Nunzie?”
“Taking a siesta in the trunk,” Valentine said.
The rear end of the car started to rock. Nunzie was banging around like a bear. Vinny turned and yelled at him to calm down.
“He your brother?” Valentine asked.
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“Inflection.”
Valentine was standing by the driver’s window, and he tucked his weapon behind his belt, then knelt down so he and Vinny were eyeball to eyeball.
“How much do you boys know about me?”
“You’re an ex-cop from Atlantic City.”
“Anything else?”
Vinny scratched the stubble on his chin. He knew he was getting off easy, yet seemed unwilling to acknowledge it. “You do work for the casinos, catch cheaters.”
“That it?”
Frank leaned over, and whispered in his ear. Vinny’s face turned dead serious.
“You whacked the Mollo brothers,” Vinny said.
Valentine gave him his best, no-nonsense stare. The year before, some throwbacks in Atlantic City who’d been threatening Gerry had gotten blown up in a car. Even though Valentine had nothing to do with their murder, everyone on the island believed that he had. Sometimes, those things worked to your advantage, and he banged the rental loudly with his hand, then stood up.
“Don’t ever come back here again,” he said.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Vinny said.
Valentine watched the rental drive to the next block, then stop. Vinny hopped out, and let his brother out of the trunk. As Nunzie climbed into the backseat, they all started yelling at one another, and he found himself smiling. Three guys in their prime had gotten outfoxed by a retired sixty-three-year-old. It didn’t get any better than that. He walked down the street to his house and was met by Gerry at the front door.
“What happened?”
“I let them go with a warning,” Valentine said.
“You beat them up any more?”
“Just their egos.”
Valentine went to his study and put the Sig Sauer back in the book, and then it hit him. While the suit from Celebrity had been threatening him, three punks had been threatening Gerry. Were the two events linked? He found Gerry waiting in the hall.
“Pop, I know those guys, for Christ’s sake.”
“Friends?”
“No, but I know them, from the old days.”
“They have an invitation?”
“No, but—”
“No buts. They were up to no good. A man’s house is off-limits, especially when his wife and daughter are there.”
Gerry rolled his eyes and looked at the ceiling. Valentine went into the living room, and found his granddaughter playing on the rug with Yolanda. His late wife had hooked the rug out of his old police uniforms and Yolanda was always trying to clean up the messes that the baby left on it. Valentine had told her not to worry about it. He’d been spit on, pissed on, and puked on plenty of times as a cop; what harm would a little more do? He sat on the couch, and the baby crawled toward him. She’d be walking soon, and he clapped his hands and saw her smile.
“What’s the weather like in Puerto Rico this time of year?” he asked.
Yolanda lifted her head. Her parents lived in a bucolic town outside of San Juan, and she’d been talking about paying them a visit.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“I’d like the three of you to go down there. I’ll spring for the airline tickets and rental car.”
“Oh, Dad, that’s awfully nice of you,” Yolanda said. “I’ve got time off coming from the hospital, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Valentine picked up his squealing granddaughter while looking at his son. Gerry had a strange look on his face. He took his daughter from Valentine’s arms and handed the child to her mother.
“I need to talk to my father,” he said.
Yolanda started to speak, then thought better of it. She pushed herself off the floor and walked out of Valentine’s house with the baby in her arms. The front door made a loud click as it shut behind her.
Gerry sat down across from his father on the couch. “Pop, Yolanda doesn’t know I used to be a bookie.”
“You ever going to tell her the truth?”
“Sure, someday I’ll tell her.”
“Who the hell is Vinny Fountain?”
“An old business acquaintance. He came here to tell me that a mobster out of Newark named George Scalzo was responsible for Jack Donovan’s murder.”
“George ‘the Tuna’ Scalzo?”
“That’s right. The Tuna stole Jack’s poker scam, and had Jack whacked. The Tuna is out in Las Vegas, backing a player named Skip DeMarco in the World Poker Showdown. DeMarco is going to cheat the tournament using Jack’s scam.”