Jacqui Rose - Fatal

Avoiding the jets of water from the large communal showerheads, Nico crouched down, panting from the exertion, inches away from hair-coiled soapsuds that mixed with Don’s body fluids on the cracked tile floor.

Nico’s tone was calm, reassuring. ‘Don, mio amico , my friend, I want to give you the chance to tell your side of the story. I want to know if it’s true what they said you did.’

There was silence save the running water and the gurgling noises from Don Lombardi struggling to gasp for air. Nico pulled a face. ‘I’ll ask you again. Is it true that you stole the phone? Tell me.’

Sighing, Nico forced one hand in Don’s mouth, yanking it open before putting his fingers between Don’s bleeding gums to keep it open.

Bringing his eyes up to his men, Nico nodded. ‘Give me them.’

Then without a word, a tall dark-haired man who stood impassively by the shower entrance handed Nico a pair of scissors from out of his trouser pocket.

Turning his attention back to Don, Nico said, ‘You see this, Don? This is what happens to people who disrespect my friends by stealing from them. Respect to me is more important than family. Rispetto. Respect. The one thing I ask of all who know me, because without it, we are all just animals … And as you have nothing to say to me, you won’t have any need of this.’

Don Lombardi shook his head with terror as Nico yanked at his tongue, digging the sharp scissors through the flesh as he began to extract it.

‘Nico! Nico, do you have to do this in here?’

As Don choked and convulsed on the floor in an agony beyond pain, Nico threw the severed tongue to one side before looking up at the prison warden. Officer Johnstone was just one of several on his payroll. In fact, most of the correction officers in the facility, whether voluntarily or by various levels of coercion, were on his payroll in some way or another. It made for an easier life, making the hellhole he was in slightly less of a hellhole.

Armed and dressed in a dark green uniform, Officer Johnstone glanced down at Don Lombardi, his manner casual, almost weary. ‘Get this cleared up. You hear me, Russo? And for Christ’s sake, make sure someone takes him to medical.’

Standing up, Nico brushed down his clothes, running his hands under the icy showers to wash away the blood. He turned to smile at his men, though his tone was ominous and taunting, something Johnstone didn’t fail to miss. ‘You heard him. Clear this mess up. Capito ? Understand? We’d hate to upset the officer, wouldn’t we?’

‘Good, make sure you do by the time I get back.’

Watching Officer Johnstone leave, Nico thought, as he seemed to every moment of every minute of every day, that he’d been behind bars far too long. Eight years too long after one of his men had turned informer. A hazard of his trade and a reason to rule his empire like Satan himself.

Johnny Milano had worked for him for over twenty years, but he’d squealed to the FBI like a sow on heat. And despite the fact he’d given Johnny his first break – had let him in to the heart of the Russo family and even paid for the cocksucker’s wedding to some two-dollar stripper from Long Island – Johnny Milano had repaid him by telling the feds everything he knew about the drug deals, the money laundering, the illegal shipping, the prostitution, the smuggling, the whole goddamn lot.

But Nico had had a tip-off from someone on his payroll in the bureau and consequently managed to cover most of his tracks. The FBI couldn’t find anything that was going to stand up in court relating to any illegal activity, but ironically what they did find was in connection to tax evasion linked to some of the family’s legal businesses.

The IRS had thrown the book at him and he’d been given fifteen years, and it looked like he was going to have to serve all fifteen. The parole board didn’t seem interested in letting the head of the Russo family back out on the streets.

Though he’d sure as hell made Johnny Milano pay. Johnny had thought the FBI witness protection would keep him safe, but there was no such thing as protection for rats. No hiding place. His men had searched and they’d found the whole of the Milano family. The mother, the grandmother, the children, even the pet rabbits, along with the two-dollar stripper from Long Island. No one escaped revenge. Revenge had been Johnny Milano’s executioner and it would be anyone else’s who dared to cross him.

‘Nico.’

Breaking his thoughts, Nico looked up to see Chris D’Amato, his cellmate – and a good friend – walk into the shower room. ‘It’s for you, Nico.’

He held out a mobile phone.

‘Who is it?’

‘She says her name’s Alice Rose.’

Nico Russo whirled the pool of blood – yet to be cleaned up – with the tip of his boot. He leant against the tiled wall, feeling the damp go through his prison shirt. Of all the calls he’d imagined he’d have, this certainly wasn’t one.

His voice was low, calm. Warm. ‘Hello, Alice Rose, I’ve heard a lot about you.’

‘Have you?’

‘Yes, from Cabhan. Though I haven’t seen him in a while.’

On the other end of the phone, Alice was eager. ‘So do you work with him?’

Kicking Don Lombardi’s severed tongue to the side and signalling to Chris to pick it up, Nico smiled. ‘You could say that. Anyway, to what do I owe this pleasure?’

Feeling happier, Alice’s tone was light. ‘I don’t know if Dad told you, but it’s his birthday next week.’

‘No, Alice, he didn’t tell me.’

‘Well, I was hoping to have a surprise party for him, do something nice, invite all his friends and work colleagues. Is that silly?’

‘Why would it be? I don’t think you ever get too old for a birthday party, do you? Well, I know I don’t, I’d want a party even when I’m too old to blow out the candles.’

Delighted that Nico felt the same, Alice giggled. ‘Obviously, he doesn’t know I’m phoning you.’

‘Obviously.’

‘And I know this is a lot to ask, but I was wondering, hoping , you could come. I’m going to get as many people together as I can, and we’ll have the party in the school hall. It’s only small, but I’m going to make some decorations, so it’ll look nice. I just want to make him happy. Will you come?’

As Alice held her breath in anticipation, Nico looked up at the clear blue sky through the thick prison bars. ‘Alice, I’d love to, really I would, but the problem is, I’m a bit caught up here and won’t be able to make it. I’m sorry.’

Disappointed, Alice said, ‘And there’s really no way?’

‘I’m sorry, honey, no way at all, but I tell you what, I could get my brothers to come. Salvatore and Bobby. They’d like that. They work with your dad, too.’

‘Do they?’

Using the tip of the bloodied scissors to pick out a crumb in his teeth, Nico nodded. ‘Yeah. Your dad’s like family to us. He’s got a special place in all our hearts … You know, I’m so pleased you called me, Alice, this has really made my day. How did you get my number, by the way?’

There was a pause before Alice sheepishly admitted, ‘Last time Dad came to see me, I took his phone so I could write down all the contacts. Is that really bad of me?’

Nico winked at Chris D’Amato as he watched him drag Don Lombardi up onto his feet.

‘No, Alice, I wouldn’t call that bad. Believe me, I’ve done a lot worse myself.’

‘You have?’

Nico chuckled, his tone teasing. ‘Oh yes, Alice, things so bad I’d be in a lot of trouble if I told you.’

Alice giggled again, enjoying the conversation.

Nico continued. ‘That’s better, it’s good to laugh at ourselves, and besides, I’d say it was clever what you did. If you hadn’t, well, you and I wouldn’t be speaking now, would we? And I’ve got an idea you might like. Why don’t you leave it to me to invite the people your dad would want at his party? You don’t want to have people there he doesn’t get on with, do you?’