Oil of Roses Ch. 24

"Without talking to the men who attacked Harry, we can't be sure. You're not going to go kill someone if we're not sure. And I wouldn't want you doing it, even then. If something happened and you ended up in jail, or God forbid, on death row... I couldn't live with that, and Harry couldn't either."

"I've heard that argument once already tonight and besides, you didn't get that picky when we was roughin' up Rick!"

"Because ‘roughing up' isn't killing him and even if it was, there's a hell of a lot of difference in the amount of attention paid to the murder of a dirtbag drug dealer versus a well-known cardiologist! Face it, Eddy! The cops take an interest when rich white men die! Especially if his mother, Nelda, starts banging the war drums over the demise of her precious and perfect little Benjie!

"Trust me, please... I have a plan, alright? Please, Eddy, just trust me. You sit tight."

The two of them sat, nose to nose, glaring at each other. Their fierce conversation had been barely audible to anyone other than those immediately surrounding them.

Eddy leaned back. "Alright, I'll be patient. But I won't be patient forever."

"I'm not asking for forever, Eddy... just a couple of days."

And then the stranger, calm and cool, that had replaced the woman they all knew departed and all that was left was an exhausted woman who'd almost lost her beloved. The shaking started in her hands and soon encompassed her whole frame.

As she allowed herself to be held by family and friends she kept murmuring through tears "there was so much blood".

* * * * *

As the newspaper and local morning news programs ran with the story of the successful local businessman brutally beaten and stabbed in a neighborhood park late the previous evening, people started arriving.

Tatiana was the first, showing up straight from a night in her workshop, singed and bedraggled and carrying a large wicker basket.

"I didn't know how many of us there would be, but I brought coffee from Constantine's. It's a little Greek bakery near my place... coffee to kill close relatives for," she said as she opened the wicker basket and started distributing cups and pulling out thermoses. "And if we run out, I'll send someone for more."

Anna Pessino and her entire family arrived with food and hugs and tears and support and prayers of thanks when they heard that Harry should pull through.

Margo took a suite of rooms at a nearby hotel that did a lot of business with families who wished to stay close to relatives in the hospital. She left word with the hospital receptionists that anyone and any calls for them were to be directed to their suite and the whole party made their way over to the hotel. The team that was handling Harry's care had her utmost confidence and she knew the last thing she needed to do was be standing behind them, second-guessing them every step of the way. It was hard, but after the surgery she had opted out of treating him. They had her cell number and the best way to make sure she stayed out of their hair was to stay away from the hospital, at least until he was out of ICU and into a private room.

Leaving Eddy and Tamara, who'd had more sleep than the rest of the family, in the sitting room to handle things, Margo, Carol, Kelly and Nicki crashed on the bed and were out within minutes. Shortly after a rollaway bed was brought up by housekeeping, Karen and Patricia joined them in slumber. Tatiana, assuring them that if she could sleep through Peter's petulant slamming about the house she could sleep through anything crashed out on the couch in the sitting room and shortly thereafter proceeded to entertain everyone still conscious with a virtuoso snoring performance.

The Pessino family, after being reassured for the umpteenth time that should anything change, or should the family need anything, they'd call them, left, leaving behind enough food to feed a regiment.

"Sir, are you going to stop blaming yourself for this any time soon, or should I go wake up Margo and have her hurt you severely?" Tamara asked Eddy as they sat, absent-mindedly munching on some pork empanadas.

The man who gazed back into her eyes did so through a countenance of broken glass.

"I fucked up, Theresa... I fucked up and Harry fuckin' near died."

"Yes, Edward, you fucked up. I fucked up. So did Carol... she blames herself for this, not you, I know, she told me so. I'm sure Margo and Kelly are finding ways to blame themselves for it as well. And we both know Harry will be blaming himself for it when he regains consciousness. It was none of our faults, in truth, but rather the fault of the men who did this, but we both know we're all going to take our turns beating ourselves up over it.

"But Edward, trust me... your turn is over. Now you need to think how best to make sure nobody finishes the job that was started on Harry. You've got Perry and Bevy watching him in shifts, Margo's got only people she trusts seeing to his medical care, as she strongly suspects her husband is behind it. But who's watching Margo, who's watching Carol? Who's watching Karen and Patricia, you and I?"

"Yeah... yeah, you're right..." he said thoughtfully, "it's kinda fuckin' obvious Margo wasn't the direct target... Carol and Harry were. Makes sense in a twisted-fuck kinda thinkin'. Best way to hurt her is to take them away from her. Whether or not we're in danger, or Karen and Patricia are, or whether he'll now get pissy and turn his sights on Margo, depends on just how squirrelly he is... is he going to continue to push this? Lash out at anyone close to them that he can get to? Or is he a little cooler and calmer than that, gonna lay low and let things chill for awhile?"

"That's good Edward, you should be thinking about that instead of hurting yourself because you failed. You and I both know, even if it was your fault, and your fault alone, Harry would forgive you. Now, what can we do to keep everybody safe?"

The two of them sat with their heads together, talking for a long time.

* * * * *

The employees of Grimes & Pinard started showing up, some with flowers, some with donuts or croissants, some just with best wishes and moral support. They assured Eddy and Tamara that whatever Margo and Carol needed, they had only to call. Over the course of the afternoon every single employee of the firm showed up, with the exception of Rhonda, the receptionist, who sent her best wishes and a fruit basket and said she'd be by as soon as she could but that she figured there ought to be somebody constantly at the office, no matter what.

Through it all, Tatiana snored away on the couch, and the rest of the family slept in the bedroom. Where dreams might normally have visited them, the stress of the night before had so exhausted them all as to render their sleep peaceful, deep and undisturbed.

* * * * *

By 6 PM everyone was awake and feeling somewhat better. Margo had called the hospital and found out that Harry was still in ICU. Evidently he'd started bleeding internally again so they'd opened him back up and found three places that needed repairing. He was still unconscious.

As they all sat around, nibbling on the bounty that had been left by well-wishers, there was a knock on the suite door. When Eddy answered it, a large man in a suit moved through the door like he owned the room, scanned the room and its occupants and then stuck his head out the door.

"Looks to be clear inside, sir."

Then he moved out of the door and Nick Philouma came in.

"Margo, I heard about Harry. If there's anything I can do, please don't hesitate to let me know," Nick said as he hugged her before turning to hug Carol.

"Actually Niccolo, there is something you can do," she said in a voice so cold it cut straight to his bones. "When you're through greeting Carol, the two of you come to the bedroom."

A few moments later they joined her, Carol closing the door behind them.

"Are you a fair and just man, Niccolo?"

"I'd like to think I am. I know that there are situations in which I'd have more problems than I would in others, maintaining a fair and just outlook, but overall, I'd say I am."

"Then what you can do for me is grant me justice. Find the men who hurt my husband. Find out why they did it. And give me justice."

He went over and sat down next to her, taking her hands in his.

"Margo, this whole ordeal has been a nightmare for you that I can't begin to imagine. You're not thinking clearly and in my opinion you've watched ‘The Godfather' one too many times. The police have taken Carol's statement; they've got another witness who gave them a description of the van. Soon they'll be able to talk to Harry, get his statement. They'll get these guys, the legal system will do its job... hell, I'll bet you, what, five grand, here and now, that Harry'll be up and about in the short time it'll take them to find these shits and he'll be testifying at their trial. They'll go away for a long stretch."

"No, Niccolo, the police won't find them. You know, probably better than anyone in this room, what percentage of crimes goes unsolved. And the longer they go unsolved the lower their priority becomes. The police aren't going to catch them and even if they did, I can almost certainly guarantee you that they'd be represented by a very good attorney who just happened to take an interest in their case for reasons unknown. On the flip side, it doesn't look like this will be a murder case so the prosecution would probably be handled by a junior District Attorney whose lack of enthusiasm would only be matched by his lack of experience. The system would not work.

"Give me justice. You asked me to let you know if there was anything you could do... give me justice."

"Alright, since you're determined to replay this movie scene, you don't want justice, you want revenge."

"No, Niccolo, that's where you're wrong. I want justice.

"You have the resources to find them. Without the law shackling your every move, you have the ability to get at the truth. No forced confessions, no leading questions... the truth.

"Then you follow the truth where it leads you. I suspect it will lead you to my estranged husband, Benjamin Sapperstein. But I don't know that for a certainty. If the truth doesn't lead you to him, I'll be surprised, but not upset. I don't want to believe anyone I know would be capable of arranging this.

"But at every turn, I want you to follow the truth and let it guide you. Then let your sense of fairness and justice steer your actions once all is revealed. You dispense justice as you see fit.

"Then you come tell me everything... every little detail. I'm placing this in your hands, but I'm not washing my hands of the responsibility. You will tell me, and only me."

"No ma'am he will not!" Carol exclaimed. "He'll tell both of us! Don't you dare be thinking this is your affair alone!"

Margo looked at her and smiled a sad smile. "Are you sure, little one?"

"Damn skippy, I'm sure. I have every bit as much invested in this as you do, perhaps even a bit more as I was supposed to be part two of the double bill. And more than that, you're not going to bear this alone. We'll bear it together, whatever it ends up being."

Carol went and hugged Margo wrapping her arms around her and bringing Margo's head to her breast.

"You're not going to be alone in this, Madam. I won't let you be."

Finally Margo's iron resolve broke and her face crumpled as she burst into tears, sobbing into her pet's chest.

Nick stood up and looked at the two of them, waiting patiently until Margo calmed somewhat.

"Are both of you sure this is what you want?" he asked.

The two women looked at him, teary-eyed but with no reservations behind the tears. They nodded.

"Then it'll be done. I'll let you know the minute I know anything... I'll keep you in the loop.

"But there is something else I feel I should point out. You and members of your family already know far more about my family and my family's business than could be considered strictly healthy. I'm pretty sure you've already attracted some government attention. I know we've tried to minimize how public our meetings are, but there's no way to be sure how successful we've been. And now you ask me to do this. I can look at it one way; you're giving me something on you and yours, something that I can hold over you to insure your silence. Or I can look at as you getting me to do your dirty work leaving you with plausible deniability and something to sell the Feds should you ever need a ‘Get Out of Jail Free' card.

"Don't get me wrong, please... I'm very fond of you, all of you. But this is my family we're talking about. Please don't ever doubt I'll do whatever is required to keep my family and its business safe."

Margo gazed into his eyes as he gazed into hers. Her tears had dried and her face had settled into calm planes and angles. She was a figure carved from the deepest strata of glacial ice, hard and impenetrable, cold and immovable.

"In short, Niccolo, you'll do exactly what I'm doing now. I understand your position completely and I have no problem with your need to protect yourself and your family and their interests, just as I hope you have no problem with my need to do the same."

Nick whistled, a low whistle of wonder. "Just out of idle curiosity, should the investigation lead where you expect it to, if I felt it necessary, for my own protection, to have you more intimately involved in the dispensation of the justice you've asked for... would that bother you? Would you do what needed to be done?"

Margo didn't even blink. "Niccolo, if what I suspect is true, my soon-to-be-ex-husband ordered the two most precious people in the world to me killed, brutally and painfully. Do you think I'd have any problem, no matter what you asked of me?"

"Remind me not to get on your bad side, Margo. Now then, for me to get started, I need to know anything and everything the police know and it would be nice if I knew some things they don't as well.

Margo and Carol filled him in, Margo providing him with the information that one of the men was wounded courtesy of Harry's bite, and he went out into the hall and made a few phone calls.

When he returned, he looked at the two women expectantly. "Alright, that's done. Enough talk of such things.

"Now then, I know neither of you probably feels like it, but I'm taking us all out to dinner, someplace nice and quiet and discrete. All of you need to eat and you also need to get out of here for awhile and it'll be my pleasure to facilitate both. Let's go round up the rest of the crowd and get out of here."

Margo looked at Nick. "Niccolo, how discrete can a public restaurant be?"

"Very discrete," Nick replied, "if your family indirectly owns it."

* * * * *

Nick had reserved a private room at Muldoon's, a steakhouse not too far from the hotel. They'd gone in through a side entrance and never saw the inside of the restaurant proper.

"Just a little service we provide for celebrities... and family friends who don't need to be seen with us," Nick quipped.

The dinner, while excellent, was extremely subdued, especially by the family's standards. It seemed everyone, with the exception of Nick, was simply too worried and too worn out to carry on any degree of conversation and although he tried valiantly, he was forced to give up after awhile.

"Nick, I'm sorry," Carol said, smiling at him across the table. "You're being an excellent host, but I'm afraid we're all lousy company right now. Too much stress and not enough rest. I'm sure you know how it goes."

"I know," Nick replied. "When my mother was in and out of the hospital for years, I thought I got used to being somewhere sort of like where you are... but you never really get used to it... the ambulance would be called in the middle of the night and I'd think ‘here we go again' and by the time I got to the hospital it was like the first time all over again."

"What was her medical problem, if you don't mind me asking?" said Kelly, not catching Tatiana's subtle ‘no' signals.

"Suicide attempts," Nick replied, a fake and plastic smile on his face. "But since the wife of Big Vic Philouma, and a good Catholic girl to boot, would never attempt suicide, it was a series of very unfortunate accidents."

"Oh God, Nick, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Kelly began.

"Kelly, really, it's alright... it's years in the past, all the wounds are good and scarred over... she had a penchant for ‘accidentally' taking too many sleeping pills... she had a gift for slipping and cutting herself with sharp objects, especially on the wrists... hell, I'm sure if she hadn't been so afraid of heights she would've developed a habit of mysteriously getting her neck caught in high-up, noose-like, bundles of cloth and rope. After her third major auto accident Big Vic wouldn't let her drive herself anywhere anymore. The cook was forbidden to let her in the kitchen, locks were put on the doors and Mother never got a key. Big Vic hired her a companion... young woman who was with her constantly, Maria Tunasia. All that did was slow her down a bit."

"My God," Karen exclaimed, "did anyone ever know why she started, why she kept trying?"

"Oh yes," Nick replied, "there was never any mystery about that.

"My father's a traditionalist about many things, including a man's duty to his wife and children. He also subscribed to the view that a man could have as many mistresses as he wanted, so long as he wasn't neglecting his family. However, women are not afforded the same privilege.

"Mother had been raised with a very lenient, contemporary... hell, in some ways, modern, set of values. She hated the narrow confines of her role as Big Vic Philouma's wife... loved Phil, Paula, Rosie and I... just hated damn near everything else. She found a guy, nice guy from what I remember, a nightclub singer... what was his name?"

"Joey Pasone... his name was Joey Pasone," Tatiana interjected. "Tony and I used to go listen to him... he had talent, coulda been somebody."

"Yeah, Joey Pasone... well, she ‘hired' him to give us all singing lessons but he was spending most of the time he was at the house with her. I think maybe Big Vic would've been happy to turn a blind eye, because I'm sure he knew, and they were being discrete, no one could point any fingers and say anything, but the radio was playing at family get-together one evening, Joey had a single out, local stations were playing it and Phil pipes up with ‘Hey, that's the guy that's banging Mama!' right in front of God and everybody.

"Well, no way Big Vic could ignore it anymore. So the next night he took Mama down to an old meat-packing plant on 8th Avenue, by the rail yards, sat her down, had the lights brought up and there was Joey Pasone, hanging by a leather strap from a meat hook. Big Vic blew his brains out while Mama watched, walked over to her and said "you killed him the first time you fucked him... ever since then you been fucking a corpse" and had her taken home."

"She told you this?" Margo asked incredulously.

"Yeah, years later, towards the end, when she thought I was old enough to understand. I asked Big Vic about it later, after she died. All he said was ‘your Mama was many things but she was never a liar'.

"That's when she started trying to kill herself. That's when we all got used to trips to the hospital at all hours, the whole bunch of us, all the kids shuffled off to the chapel to pray for Mama's recovery. That went on for the next ten years.

"I used to think my father didn't love her... come to think of it, I used to think my father didn't love anybody, but I thought he didn't love her right up until the night she died. He sent Maria to her room, leaving Mama awake. Mama came in and told us all good night, said she was going to take a bath. Rosie went to the back of the house for something, can't remember what... but she came back yelling that the kitchen was unlocked and one of the knives was missing.