Jonas Saul - The Kill

“We went to Rome to get married,” she said, her voice low, her tone non-threatening. “It was in respect to my parents as they are Italian. We were going to honeymoon in Greece as Darwin’s father is Greek. It was planned as respectful.”

“Okay, but he shows up and takes out Big John. A hundred men have tried that and died. Then he walks a man into traffic and kills him. Greg tells him on the phone to stay calm, be cool. Don’t do anything until Greg gets there. We thought Darwin was calling Greg as a way to show that when he finished with the Fuccini family, he could get his life back and still play the role of easygoing, calm Canadian boy.

“Instead, Darwin heads to the Fuccini building on Via Roma, a known mafia haven, and succeeds in entering the building, getting to the top floor, after killing even more hired professionals, only to meet the Harvester of Sorrow unarmed.”

She shuddered at the mention of the name.

“You okay?” Alfred asked.

She nodded. “I saw firsthand what evil that man was. I am so happy he is dead.”

“We are too. The only men to compare him to were the Nazi butchers. So how did Darwin do all that, with barely a scratch, if he’s just a writer from Canada? We asked ourselves that question over and over.”

“I’m his wife. I was their prisoner. You do not want to piss Darwin off. Turn out the lights, show him a knife or ask about his stepmother and you will have asked to talk to Lucifer. Trust me.”

They looked at each other. Stache turned to her, a frown twisting his mustache almost sideways. “What was that? Lights, a knife?”

“Nothing. Just go on.”

Leg stopped bouncing his leg and said, “So, since Darwin didn’t fit the profile, we looked at his past and reopened the Hangar Peace Accord file and started looking at everything again. We saw his picture at the adult store and then got a tip that he worked for the Gambino family. See how it all came together.”

“But you don’t believe that anymore?” she asked.

They all shook their heads. “He never made contact that we could tell. Then we contacted a known family member of the Gambinos and they told us, on no uncertain terms, that they want to distance themselves from anyone like Darwin Kostas. He’s too public, too dangerous, they said.”

“My husband. How sweet,” she said.

“We found out the leak came from the Fuccini family. They were trying to get us to move him. We did and they attacked. That’s how the accident happened. There was another car that hit the back of that rig. In it were the two corpses of Fuccini family members. Greg was located in the dark an hour after the accident. He’d crawled away from the burning car and he was worried other attackers could come. He’s in ICU over at St. Michael’s hospital. He woke up long enough to tell us about the car that rammed them.”

“Oh man.” She felt tears coming again. The thought that the FBI sent her husband out into a trap after what happened in Rome, and now he’s missing, really upset her and pissed her off too.

“There’s one more thing we have to tell you about Darwin’s father. We thought his kidnapping was directly related. Maybe he knew about Darwin’s past or something and Darwin had to remove him. What a great time to do it when he’s still in Rome so he could never be blamed.”

“Okay, I get it. That it?”

“No. Please stay calm for this part. This is good news, but you may get angry.”

“Go ahead. Try me.”

“Your parents were never kidnapped. They’re fine and still being watched. That was information control. We wanted to watch his reaction to things happening that weren’t part of his orchestration. We needed to see who he would call. We also wanted to see if he would tell you or hide it from you. We’re sorry. Your parents are at home, healthy and alive.”

The fury Darwin always described to her when he saw a knife was what she felt rising as the FBI told her she’d been lied to about her parents. She wasn’t a pawn to be played with. Her parents weren’t bait. Her husband wasn’t a sheep. They had played them all without regard for their safety.

“Get out! All of you!”

“Mrs. Kostas, we need to discuss-”

“Get out!” she shouted and stood up, running from the living room.

Her headache was back in all its glory.

Darwin used his Visa to pay the cab driver. He got dropped off on the other side of Square One shopping mall. Walking cautiously, taking his time, going the roundabout way, would tell him if the place was being staked out.

He still had ten minutes until he was supposed to meet Rosina’s mother, Isabella. That didn’t leave him enough time to get a full disguise together, but he thought maybe a baseball hat would help.

The mall looked quite busy for a middle of the week noon hour crowd. On his way to the other side of the mall, he passed a store that sold hats, grabbed one and bought it.

He also bought a new sports jacket. Better to change his whole outer appearance to avoid immediate detection. A lot of people wanted him dead and he couldn’t trust the FBI now either.

The weapon he picked up at the army surplus store earlier fit in his jacket pocket, easy to grab.

He used the doors by The Bay department store to exit the mall as they were usually the less busy ones.

All the way across the parking lot, he saw no one watching him or acting like they weren’t supposed to be there.

He crossed the street and walked toward Chapters bookstore like a normal customer.

At the main doors, he slowed, and took one last look around. Clouds were rolling in, the sun hidden behind them. The air was warm, a slight breeze cooling his damp forehead. As far as he could tell, no one was observing him.

He entered through the double doors of the bookstore and headed for the Starbucks on the left side.

Isabella was already there, drinking from a tall or a grande shit cup.

Sure their coffee was okay, but what about a large, medium or small? What the fuck was a short?

“Mrs. Capote. Thank you for coming.”

“Darwin? What’s going on? I’ve missed Rosina. Where is she?”

“Everything is fine, Mrs. Capote. Your daughter is safe.”

“Where have you two been for the last week? Wait,” she paused and tapped his wrist. “Go get a coffee. I’ll wait.”

“No, thanks. I don’t drink at this place.”

“Oh, okay. So why are we here? What was this help you were asking for?”

She wasn’t acting normal. No way was this Mrs. Capote. She was putting on an act for sure.

He should’ve known. They were waiting for him to say his piece and then they would pounce. He needed her car. He needed wheels and he thought he could’ve driven her home, borrowed the car and then decided what to do next, but now, he wasn’t so sure.

Then he had an idea. A plan hit him.

Perfect.

“Rosina and I went to Rome to get married,” he said.

“Oh, my,” she said. “I knew you two would tie the knot one day.”

So unlike her. She was one of the most adamant against it.

“We had a little trouble in Rome.”

“What kind of trouble?” she asked, and then held up her tall coffee.

“People tried to hurt us, but we escaped and everything is okay now.”

“Well, that’s good. When do I get to see Rosina?”

They’re listening. I say trouble, and she doesn’t even blink. She’s good. She’s sending me a very clear message that she already knows everything I’m telling her. Tell her something she doesn’t know.

He looked around in a conspiratorially way and whispered, “I need your car. I have to drive somewhere. I can fix things.”

Mrs. Capote reached in her purse and produced her car keys. A white piece of paper was attached to the key ring. She slid them across the table and tapped it twice with her finger.