Oil of Roses Ch. 28

"I'm surprised that cunt didn't ask you to do that, and a lot worse... talk about a useless bitch... you remember the definition of 'bitch' as opposed to 'slut', don't you, Mr. Philouma?

"A slut fucks everybody... a bitch fucks everybody but you... I bet she fucked you to get you to do this to me..."

Nick had worried that during this final conversation there would be revealed some glimmer of humanity that would cause him to regret his actions. As Benjamin Sapperstein neared the end and kept talking, Nick realized his fears were groundless.

"Shoulda... had 'em all... killed... took my chances... with the police... instead o' goin'... for revenge."

The shallow and vapid creature bleeding his life out in the tub before him had no regrets about what he'd done beyond being caught. There was nothing else in his mind but concern for himself as at last the repeated additions of hot water failed to warm him, even as he was having trouble summoning the strength to manipulate the large handles at the end of the tub with his feet.

His final words confirmed completely Nick's opinion of him.

Nick, confident that there was no way Benjamin could stop his own demise, or even struggle, leaned over and said, "Oh, by the way, there was a third way this evening could end... you die in this tub and I leave all the evidence in place. Your reputation and your family name are ruined, poor Nelda will never hear the end of it... and I won't be merciful and have her killed since I'm pretty sure she's at least partly responsible for the piece of shit you grew up to be... that's the way this evening is going to end."

Benjamin replied, "I don't care... about that... I just don't... want to... suffer."

"Benjie... your wife didn't fuck me... I'm gay... I did this because she asked for justice, just like I said."

The look of surprise and disgust that flickered across his victim's face amused Nick no end, and shortly thereafter he watched the final glint of light fade from the eyes of Benjamin Sapperstein.

"May God in his infinite mercy look upon you with a kindlier eye than I am capable of," Nick said.

He got up and with the help of his crew finished the final bits of scene-setting for the police, then binding Salome to the bed, reminded her to start her screams around 6 AM to catch the neighbors awake and moving about. If the police hadn't been called by 7:30, her man Danny was going to break down the door, setting off the alarm as her 'pimp' came looking for her. He would flee the scene 'upon discovering the body' and given the neighborhood the police would be there very quickly.

Then Nick and his people left the house as quietly and covertly as they'd come and drove off into the pre-dawn darkness.

* * * * *

After the various members of his team had gone their separate ways, Niccolo Philouma was as alone as he ever was. Two bodyguards in the front seat, the privacy glass raised between them and him, sitting by himself in the back with no place to run to escape himself.

Was this what his life was going to become? In the past several days he'd had his brother killed and killed another man himself and when he thought about it, he really didn't feel much of anything about either of them.

Was he becoming some sort of monster, killing without feeling? How could he look at the deaths of his brother and Benjamin Sapperstein as nothing more than, how would Eddy put it, 'pest control'?

He had lied to the dead man... he hadn't been exposed to much torture. There was a lot of the family business that he hadn't seen yet, the hard side of it. Thankfully Benjamin wasn't the first man he'd killed... throwing up at this scene would've been most inconvenient. More than anything else, he wished his 'Uncle' Tony were around to talk to, but wishing didn't make it so.

However, the next best thing was available...

* * * * *

The arm that snaked out of the pile of covers on the bed just so happened to be Carol's, pulling her cell phone back under those covers.

"What?

"Okay... yeah... gimme a few... no, not a problem, not a problem.

"Okay, asking me to solve riddles, that may be a problem... oh yeah, I know where you mean... shouldn't take me more than a half hour or so. See you there."

She slid out from under the covers into the room, stumbling about, trying to find her clothes in the dim light coming in between the drapes.

"Who was that, where you goin'?" Kelly asked from the other side of Margo's sleeping form.

"Niccolo... he needs to talk... I'll be back... well, I'll be back when I'm back. Kisses and hugs."

"Hugs and kisses," Kelly said as she tucked her head back in close to Margo's shoulder.

Carol finished dressing and then went downstairs to catch a cab.

* * * * *

The lake had always been one of Tony's favorite places to go.

During the day, he'd walked the paths filled with bikers, skaters, joggers and power-walkers, soaking in the sheer exuberance of life as he strode along in his suit and tie, fedora perched jauntily atop his head, cane tapping briskly. At night he'd strolled those same trails, enjoying the evening and the cool breezes from the lake, not-so-secretly hoping that some 'young socialist', as he called them, was stupid enough to pick him for a wealth redistribution scheme. Between his own skills with a gun, and his boys, never too far away, no such attempt had ever come anywhere close to succeeding, and several potential life's of crime had been curtailed, one way or another.

He and Carol had gone there often, and they'd spent hours walking together or sitting on a bench, watching people while Tony made up stories about those they saw. They'd listen to the musicians, busking for people's spare change, and if Tony thought them any good at all, they'd receive a 'Juliana musician encouragement grant'... anywhere from a twenty to a couple of hundred's in their hat or instrument case. If they were really good, Tony'd give them one of his business cards with the address of a club owner or agent on the back, along with a note urging the aforementioned to 'give the kid a listen'.

His business cards read simply "Tony J. – Nosy Old Man", but such was his reputation among musicians all over town that no one ever doubted that what they'd been handed was a shot at their future, if they were smart enough not to fuck it up.

So when Nick had told Carol to meet him "at that big fountain where the nosy old man did his star-search thing", although it had taken a minute or two for her sleepy brain to put it all together, she'd no doubt exactly where he'd meant.

When she got out of her cab on Lakeshore Drive next to the fountain with its arc of benches on either side, one of Nick's men was already there, waiting on her. She took her hand off the straight razor in her pocket and walked over to him, waving at the taxi driver as he pulled away.

"He'll be back around in a few," the man said to her.

"Seems like he's becoming a shark," Carol said. "Never able to stop moving or he'll die."

The bodyguard looked down at her in surprise. "Yeah, there are very few places he can stop right now."

"And about to be fewer still, I'd imagine. Hi, I'm Carol," she said, thrusting her hand up towards the guard.

He smiled. "Izzy'," he replied, shaking her hand.

"Izzy? A member of the Family with the somewhat Jewish nickname of 'Izzy'? What, did your parents hate you?" she asked, smiling back at him.

"Nah, Mama was just on a biblical kick, named me Israel; Papa was out of town on business... by the time he got back it was a done deal. So I ended up with a choice, go by 'Israel', which got shortened to 'Izzy', or go by my middle name."

"Okay, must be some middle name... I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Infantina."

"Oh I am so sorry..."

"Yeah, so am I... so it's 'Izzy'."

"Right, 'Izzy' it is. Did you ever get even with your mother for that?"

"Course I did... I didn't become no priest, did I?" he replied, grinning.

* * * * *

Fifteen minutes later she was in the back of Nick's car, sucking down a coffee from an all-night coffee bar and studying her host.

"Nick, what am I doing, riding around the city with you way too goddamn early in the morning?"

"I needed someone to talk to... I needed to talk to Tony, actually, but as he's no longer with us, I decided to talk with the person who knew him best."

"Surely your father or some of the other old-timers-"

"Don't kid yourself, Carol. They knew him as a 'Family man'; they knew that side of him, but he always said that was a mask he wore to play the cards life had dealt him. Not that he was bitching about the hand he'd been dealt, but you and I both know where his heart truly lay and it wasn't in being an enforcer or anything else associated with the Family. He really had no use for 'this thing of ours', except perhaps for the money and power it brought him. You and Tattie were the people who knew the real him the best, and out of the two of you, much to Tattie's regret, you knew him better than she. So put on your 'Tony hat' and talk with me... I'm kind of fucked up tonight."

"You know, it's funny, awhile back Tattie and I were talking about Tony and his assertion that immortality is the sum of all the bits of ourselves that we leave behind us when we go. I guess it's time I put my bit of Tony's immortality to use. Of course I'll do whatever I can."

As Nick described his fears, Carol found it easy to listen with Tony's ears, to answer with Tony's voice. It wasn't as if he possessed her, it was just that he continued to live on so vividly in her mind that she knew what he'd find significant, knew how he'd answer.

"Niccolo, hypothetical question: what if tomorrow it turns out that it would be very beneficial, but by no means essential, for the Family concerns if Harry and Margo and all their family and friends disappeared. What would you do?"

"Goddamn, you sound like him... okay, not a goddamn thing. Good peoples' lives are worth more than benefits to the family business."

"Congratulations, you got nothing to worry about; your soul's very much intact. Your father would have them... I mean us, killed. And I'm not saying he wouldn't feel regret about it, but he'd have it done, just the same. You're in good shape. You answered your own question with your response. 'Good peoples lives'... or in a loose definition of the word, 'innocent' lives, that's the key."

"Who am I to judge?"

"A man who could be home in bed asleep but instead is worrying whether he's becoming a monster."

They talked for another hour before Nick finally looked at Carol and said, "Thank you, I'm doing much better and it's time to get you back and for me to get a little sleep before a very busy day." He hit the intercom button and told the driver to take them back to the hotel.

"No, no Nick, have him take me to the Omni, I can catch a cab from there."

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up in front of the Omni Downtown.

"You're sure you're okay with being dropped off here?" Nick asked as she got out of the car.

"Oh yeah, I can grab a cab from here and keep you from being seen around our hotel too often," she said, smiling.

"Thank you... I really appreciate the talk, Carol... or should I say Tony?"

"How about both? Goodnight Nick, I'll be thinking of you later today. I wish we could be there with you physically, know that we'll be there with you in spirit."

"I know. Talk to you later."

And with that his car pulled away and Carol walked over to one of the cabs parked outside the Omni's entrance.

In thirty minutes she was back in bed, snuggled close to her wives, asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.

At about the same time, across town, Randy Miers held Niccolo Philouma while he cried, comforting him as best he could, amazed that his lover had tears in him for his brother Philip.

* * * * *

The news didn't make the morning edition of the paper or the morning news programs but it got extensive coverage on the local noon news shows. Those who relied on print for their information would have to wait until the following morning. On the Internet, facts were in as short supply as elsewhere, but gossip and speculation were as well-stocked as always.

* * * * *

Overheard at a production meeting in the Channel 6 News Division...

"Can you believe that fucking arrogant cow ordered Teddy and his crew to come back to the office?"

"Mike, she's our star reporter... by definition that makes her a prima donna pain-in-the-ass."

"I know, but I'm the goddamn editor of the news division... I assign reporters to stories and I assigned Teddy!"

"And Janie Quitta smelled the same ripe scent of sex, drugs and delicious scandal that you did, Mike, that's why she grabbed the story. God, I would've loved to have been there when Detective... what was his name?"

"Martin."

"Yeah, Martin, forcibly removed her from the scene and wouldn't let that pet cameraman of hers get footage of the girl they found inside. Shouldn't have been trying to get footage of an underage prostitute anyway, poor dear, she deserves some anonymity, especially considering what we heard about her condition when they found her."

"Yeah, yeah you're right... it's not like any other station got a picture of her either."

"Yeah... that would have been different."

* * * * *

At the Grove Spa & Wellness Center, while enjoying a mineral mud bath, sipping green tea and casually grazing on a fresh cucumber salad, Nelda Sapperstein was also listening to the radio on her headphones instead of the Soothing Sounds of Nature as was supposed to be piped in to her. She tipped the attendant a twenty for such consideration, being firmly of the opinion that if God had wanted her to listen to the sounds of nature, He would never have brought His people in from the wilderness and directed them to Neiman Marcus.

So it was that she heard the news concerning her son before anyone official could contact her, as on her spa days she turned off her cell phone and told no one where she would be. They were her "Me" time.

When the attendant went in to check if she needed anything else, she assumed Mrs. Sapperstein was asleep.

Such was not the case.

To the Grove Spa & Wellness Center's credit, they drained and cleaned the mud bath tub, even though everyone was hard-pressed to differentiate between what should be there, and what the side effects of Mrs. Sapperstein's passing had left there.

* * * * *

Even when she knew it was coming, even when it was something she devoutly wished for... even if it was something she'd set in motion, the death of someone she once loved, once believed she was going to spend her life with, hit Margo like a heavy blow to the chest and she staggered back from the two police officers standing in the living room of their suite and fell into a chair with a thud. Her terry-cloth bath robe fell open and the two policemen turned away suddenly, embarrassed by her unexpected exposure.

"How... when?"

As the words were leaving her mouth she felt the comforting presences of Kelly and Carol, on either side of her. They closed her robe for.

"It's okay to look again, gentlemen," Carol said.

"Thank you, ma'am," the older one, a Detective Martin, said. "As of now, the coroner's ruling it a suicide."

Detective Martin went on to tell them what he could, and shortly after that Margo found herself in a cold white room filled with large drawers, making an official positive identification of the mortal remains of one Benjamin Sapperstein.

She stood by the extended shelf, staring down at his pale, colorless face. She'd grown to hate that face in life, despise the cruel and venal, petty and callous little coward that lived behind it.

But in death... it was just a face. Just another wealth of opportunities and potential that would be explored no further. Looking at him now, she could forgive him, and wish him some sort of eternal peace, if such were possible for him.

"Dr. Wohler-Sapperstein, there's something else... something I haven't talked to you about.

"Apparently, your mother-in-law heard the news on the radio this morning while at the spa. The coroner's initial finding is death due to a massive myocardial infarction. If you wouldn't mind, we'd really appreciate it if..."

"Oh my God... certainly, if you'd give me a minute."

"I'm sorry ma'am," Detective Martin said, "if I'd been thinking, I would've told you at the hotel, but we've been so busy it completely slipped my mind until we got here. Please, if you can find it in your heart, forgive me."

"No, not a problem Detective... just... a lot of shocks, very close together. I'll be fine."

"Would you like to sit down for a bit, perhaps a glass of water, a cup of coffee?"

"No, really, I'll be fine... which one is her?"

The attendant slid Benjamin back into the wall and pulled out another shelf.

"If you're ready, Dr. Wohler-Sapperstein?"

"Go ahead."

The covering was pulled back and Margo was looking at her mother-in-law. Margo and Benjamin's relationship had taken time to deteriorate, granted it didn't take much, but it did still take some time... hers and Nelda Sapperstein's had begun in the shitter and just gone downhill from there.

She remembered when she'd first discovered that Benjamin was cheating on her. In a fit of despondency she'd gone against all her better instincts and called her mother-in-law for advice. Nelda had asked if any of the women he was sleeping with were better matches for him than Margo. If so, Margo should ask for a divorce. Otherwise she should put up with it and smile.

Death had not improved Nelda much at all. She'd had another facelift since the last time Margo had seen her, but she was still the pinched, poisonous looking crone she'd always been.

"That's her. I'd like to go now, if I could."

"Certainly, thank you so much for your help and although I know you and your husband and his family were estranged, I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, Detective Martin."

Ten minutes later Kelly was driving them back to the hotel as Carol held her sobbing wife in the back seat.

* * * * *

When they arrived back, they were surprised to find one of Nick's men, standing in the hall outside their suite.

"He's inside, waiting for you ma'am," the bodyguard said, surreptitiously watching the hallway.

Seated in the living room, Nick and Tattie were talking over cups of coffee and a platter of pastries, while Izzy stood by the door to the suite's bedroom. Carol waved and smiled at him, receiving a sheepish smile and little wave in return.

"Well, I better go join the others. They're over at the hospital, visiting Harry," Tattie said, getting up and heading for the door. "Nick, I understand you're gonna be real busy for awhile but still, make a little time, don't be a stranger."

"I'll do my best, Tattie," he said as he got up. Nick hugged her goodbye and then turned to Margo. "I don't have much time, but I promised to tell you everything I'd done. Have a seat. Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes, please."
"Anything stronger?"

"I'll be okay."
He poured them all coffee and sat down once again.

"Do me a favor and save any questions you have for after I'm finished," he said. "Now, to begin..."

* * * * *

At Sisters of Mercy Hospital, Susan Raymond pulled one of her favorite tricks of all time. When you're an adult who's very good at pretending to be an adolescent, it's much easier to appear to be an adult than if the situation is reversed.

Courtesy of an intentionally unobservant police officer, she disappeared from her room and within fifteen minutes exited the hospital confidently, dressed in a borrowed lab coat, a pair of prescription glasses stolen from a patient's room and a pair of sneakers that a sleeping resident would miss when she woke up from her nap in the staff lounge. Her I.D., stolen from the same resident, wouldn't bear too close a scrutiny, but the key to getting in, being in, or leaving anywhere was looking like you not only knew what you were doing but had every right to be doing it. Making it to and walking out of the E.R. entrance of the hospital wasn't any real problem.