One Last Kill Read online

  “How long are we gonna wait for?”

  “You have to be patient. You know how many hours I’ve spent staking guys out in my career?”

  Cal noticed Tony had already finished his iced coffee in the time it had taken to drive to their destination.

  “Man, this will be a long day,” Tony said. “I had plans with my girl today. Hopefully this won’t take too long.”

  “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

  “Yeah, her name’s Teri. She’s a real pretty girl. A dime piece, you might say.”

  Dime piece? Between Maria and now Tony, Cal couldn’t keep up with all the slang being thrown around.

  Tony turned to Cal when he didn’t respond.

  “What about you? You have time for a girl when you’re not out here stalking or killing people?”

  The question caused Cal to clench his jaw. “I don’t talk about my personal life.”

  The tone of Cal’s voice closed off any further conversation. He didn’t mean to get snappy with Tony, but the argument with Maria continued to hang over his head. He knew he needed to go over and apologize, but he wasn’t sure how. Empathy wasn’t in his nature.

  A half hour later, Cal spotted a tall figure in a gray-and-black pin-striped suit walking toward the building with a briefcase in one hand and a newspaper under his arm. He smiled as he walked past the throngs of people on their commute. He appeared confident and even slightly arrogant. Cal and Tony glanced at each other. They knew it was Caruso.

  “Looks like he goes in the same way anyone else does,” Tony said. “Nobody with him. Does that mean we’re done?”

  “No. The mayor’s office is on the fifth floor; we can’t draw any types of conclusions on who might be visiting him.”

  “Damn, that’s right. What if I go up there? I’ll pretend I’m driving for someone who has an appointment with him and say the guy’s in the can. Maybe that buys me some time to use that equipment back there and we can place it in the mayor’s office.”

  Cal saw where Tony was going with this and was intrigued, despite the plan’s hasty nature. The biggest issue was they had no idea who might be on the mayor’s calendar for the day.

  “What are you doing?” Tony asked as Cal pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

  “I’ll call some officials in the building to see if I can set up an appointment. Alfredo knows a lot of aldermen. I’m hoping to get a secretary to say one of them has an appointment with the mayor at the time I try to set the appointment for. It’s not the greatest plan, but it might give us an idea.”

  “I think we should wait to see if someone else goes in the building who might arouse suspicions. Like the superintendent of police or something like that.”

  Cal was impressed with Tony’s instincts. He was a little disturbed that he wasn’t thinking along the same lines as the kid, given his many years following and snuffing out targets.

  “That means we could be here awhile. Are you sure you can handle that?”

  “Hell yeah I can. I’m gonna need some more coffee first.”

  Tony got the coffee and they waited for a while. No one interesting showed up until around nine o’clock, when two Chicago Police cars and an unmarked Crown Victoria pulled up to the curb. A burly man with a bushy mustache stepped out of the back of the Crown Victoria. He wore a police uniform adorned with stars along the trim and a matching cap.

  Cal recognized him from the papers as Lawrence Walker, superintendent of police. Two officers got out of each of the cop cars, stood next to Walker, and waited. It was the two other men who exited the unmarked car that captured Cal’s attention.

  They were both over six feet tall and wore dark tweed jackets and matching dress slacks. Their sunglasses hid their facial features well, but Cal noticed one of them had a beard. They resembled the men he’d had a run-in with at the theater.

  “Are those the same guys who tried to follow us?” Tony asked.

  “Yep, that’s them. I wonder why Superintendent Walker’s with them.”

  It could only mean one thing—Lawrence Walker was planning on meeting with the mayor, especially if he was being escorted by two of the mayor’s goons. Cal watched as Walker, the goons, and the police officers entered the building.

  It was in that instant that Tony sprung out of the driver’s seat of the car and dashed across the street, his feet kicking up puddles of rain as he ran.

  What the hell is he doing?

  Cal wanted to yell back but saw Tony stick out a thumbs-up sign as he raced for the front of the building.

  He knew if he didn’t rush in after him that the kid would be in for a world of trouble.

  8

  Cal sat in the passenger seat longer than he should have. He felt so enraged that he didn’t want to move. Not only would he have rather had Fonzie for this mission than Tony, but now the kid had put both of their lives in danger by running into City Hall on a whim.

  Cal pounded his fist into the back of his seat and glimpsed toward the back, where his briefcase was opened and one of his small transmitter sets was missing, just as he’d suspected. He let out a deep exhale and his head fell back against the seat’s headrest. He tried to imagine what Tony was thinking, what exactly he planned to do with the device.

  That’s when it hit him. He’s going to try to plant the device on the mayor.

  It seemed like an incredibly stupid idea. As far as Cal knew, the only dangerous thing Tony had done in his life was to serve as a wheelman for the mafia. Their encounter with MacErlean the other day was likely the most action the kid had ever seen outside of a Hollywood action flick. Tony had no idea what he was getting into entering the lion’s den with Caruso’s thugs and Walker’s vengeful police force waiting. Cal had to admit the move was bold. If successful, they could learn more from this one surveillance mission than what Cal often discovered from ten rounds of stakeouts.

  Cal reached back toward the briefcase and grabbed the small listening device corresponding to the equipment Tony had taken. He switched it on and put the earpiece in his right ear.

  The sound of something crashing against the floor caused Cal to jolt in his seat. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it didn’t exactly signal good fortune.

  Cal put the listening device closer to his ear when he heard no further noises. Had the noise been the device crashing to the ground and breaking? It was too small to create that big of a noise.

  “What on earth are you doing? You shouldn’t be running in a building like this.”

  Cal knew immediately who the gruff voice belonged to. It was a voice he’d heard one too many times on television. Superintendent Lawrence Walker.

  “If you’re looking for your phone, it’s over there.”

  So that’s what the noise was. Cal wondered how Tony had lost his phone and how he’d run into Superintendent Walker. The fact that there was another voice, one that resembled a voice from one of the men in the tweed jackets at the theater, told Cal that Tony might be in danger.

  Cal felt at the pockets of his jeans, feeling the bulge of his cell phone in one pocket and his jackknife in the other. His Beretta was comfortably tucked in the back of his jeans. He was ready to go and see just how much trouble Tony was in. He adjusted the earpiece, trying to pick up any additional details from the transmitting device.

  “Go take care of that little shit,” Walker said. “He’s up to no good.”

  Cal’s heart pounded as he crossed the street. There was no way Tony could contend with the mayor’s goons. Cal had no doubt he could take them out, but he figured they’d be stiff competition for the Average Joe, which Tony certainly was in his mind. He couldn’t let anything happen to his young friend. They were too close to finding answers.

  The cavernous lobby was packed upon his entry to City Hall. He scanned the stairwells and never-ending main hallway lined with elevators, wondering how he would find Tony. Given the amount of people circulating throughout the building, he figured he had a chance of blending in, eve
n in a T-shirt and jeans. He knew the mayor’s office was on the fifth floor, so his first thought was to head there. A security guard’s sharp gaze froze him in his tracks as he made his move toward the nearest stairwell.

  The guard squawked something into his walkie-talkie and booked it toward Cal. Running up the stairwell suddenly seemed like an appealing option. If he did that, Cal knew that he’d be assumed guilty of whatever the security guard was marching over to accuse him of.

  Cal couldn’t decide whether he should play it cool or run. The guard was gaining fast and Cal heard more activity in the earpiece.

  “Good morning, Superintendent,” a soft feminine voice said over the receiver. “I’ll phone Mayor Caruso that you’ve arrived. He’ll meet with you shortly.”

  The guard was only feet away, and Cal had no choice but to step to the right to avoid the man’s head of steam. He turned his head, but the guard kept walking past and up the stairs Cal was planning to escape to.

  What’s going on?

  Cal wanted to keep listening but wondered where Tony was. Had he escaped undetected? Listening to Walker’s activities wasn’t going to help him. He forced himself to switch off his earpiece.

  Thunder-like footsteps pounded the marble floor behind him. Cal saw the security guard freeze at the first landing of the stairwell opposite him. They both turned around and saw what Cal was afraid he would find—Tony racing down the stairs and a man in a tweed jacket hot on his heels.

  A crowd had formed, bunched in front of Cal and the stairs the goon had just descended from. There were so many of them that Cal could hardly see Tony run through the front doors of the building and into the street. Thankfully, his pursuer had a slight drag to his back leg as he ran, causing him to fall farther behind.

  Cal shoved through two men in beige raincoats and ran toward the exit. If Tony really was in trouble, he had to stop the goon before he could do any damage. Cal heard the shouts of the security guard behind him as he ran, but he couldn’t care less about being pursued by the round man.

  The horns of several cars blared as the goon ran into the street with reckless abandon. He nearly tripped when he got to the median as he waited for the cars heading south. The ruckus gave Cal enough time to leave the building and keep the man in sight before he ducked into an alley, near Tony’s parked car.

  The gentle pitter-patter of rain dripped on Cal’s head as he crossed the street in front of the northbound traffic. He saw the man he was pursuing standing alongside a white Ford Focus parked in the alley.

  The man began shouting, and the other goon emerged from a crouch behind the Focus. They turned their attention to something on the ground and started stomping at it. That’s when Cal heard the cries of pain. Tony’s cries.

  Cal charged toward the men, hoping to make enough noise for them to stop their assault of Tony and confront him instead. Sure enough, the goons turned in his direction. The man who’d been crouching reached into his jacket to pull out a gun.

  Cal reached the gunman just as he was attempting to fire and tackled him to the ground, sending the gun flying, both men groaning as they collided with the cement. He felt the other man jump onto his back, trying to pull him off.

  Cal shot a quick elbow at the man’s head and hit pay dirt when he felt the sharp bone of the man’s jaw against his elbow. Cal jumped to his feet and threw a right hook to send him to the ground. Just as quickly, the gunman was at his back, trying to strangle him. He thought of his Beretta tucked in the back of his jeans, and went to reach for it, but knew he wouldn’t have enough time with the recovery speed of the two men.

  Cal slipped away, narrowly avoided the man’s follow-up punch, and threw a left jab at the gunman’s ribs. The gunman staggered but came back at Cal with another jab. Cal blocked the attempt with his forearm and prepared his own counter when a sharp kick slammed into his back, nearly sending him stumbling to his knees.

  The other man was back on his feet now and his kick gave the gunman enough time to recover. Even though Cal was pretty seasoned at hand-to-hand combat, he knew from the size of both of the men that they would be formidable challengers and wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  The gunman got off a right hook that struck Cal square in the cheekbone. The gunman followed with another kick to the back and a jab to his jaw, the pain causing Cal to finally fall to his knees. Once the kicker locked a tight grip around his neck, he knew he was in deep trouble.

  To further weaken him, the gunman kicked him in the ribs. The kick was painful, but it was better to get kicked than locked into a sleeper hold and have no chance of saving Tony.

  “Who are you? Why were you at the theater?”

  The gunman stood tall over Cal and glared at him with his sharp gray eyes. The accent was definitely Eastern European. The other man spat on Cal’s head in disgust. Cal knew he only had a small window in which to escape. The men would question him and then kill him, either in the alley if they were courageous enough, or somewhere else.

  Cal saw Tony lying motionless against the wall but noted the gun that he’d knocked out of the gunman’s hands was only a few feet away.

  “Are you working with this boy? You should’ve let us kill him. Perhaps you could’ve saved your own life.”

  Cal remained silent. His ribs ached and he knew he’d have a bruise on his face later, but he didn’t want to draw any more attention to Tony.

  This was Cal’s best chance to make use of his Beretta if he could distract the goons long enough. He was surprised his captor hadn’t seen or felt it. If he could snake his hand into his pants, he could escape the situation himself.

  “Fine, be quiet,” the gunman said. “But know this. If you don’t talk, we’ll kill the boy and take you to be tortured. We’ll chop your fingers and toes off one by one until you tell us where MacErlean is.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” Cal said, trying to buy time. Time where Tony could revive and recover the gunman’s weapon and turn the tide against the goons.

  “Bullshit. You attacked us on your way out of the theater. What did you do with MacErlean?”

  The grip tightened around Cal’s neck. They clearly expected him to talk. He noticed Tony gently stir out of the corner of his eye, the only movement his hand extending for the gun.

  “Let me ask you the same question,” Cal said. “I know you’re working for the mayor. Why would he want to protect a known criminal? It seems awfully suspicious to me.” Cal inched his left hand closer to his gun. He had to be ready to strike when the opportunity presented itself.

  The gunman laughed and shook his head. “What makes you think we’re working for the mayor? Is that what MacErlean told you? Are you going to believe that rat?”

  “Enough with this nonsense,” said the other man. “Let’s kill this guy and finish off the kid. Who gives a shit about MacErlean?”

  The gunman snarled. “Fine, Phillip. But first, I’ll give him one more chance to tell us where MacErlean is. I can’t say I won’t kill you, but maybe we’ll let the boy go.”

  Cal knew that was a lie. He saw Tony’s hand close around the gun. He moved his own hand to the small of his back, feeling his weapon in the process. Neither of the goons seemed to notice. After a brief silence, Phillip spoke up again.

  “He doesn’t want to talk, Marco. Let me break this fucker’s neck and end this.”

  Marco shrugged his shoulders and nodded. Just as Cal felt Phillip move his forearms to crush Cal’s neck, he saw the muzzle flash as Tony fired. The bullet struck Phillip in the side. Phillip’s grip loosened completely as he fell to the ground.

  Marco dashed toward Tony and kicked the gun loose from the boy’s grip. Now that Cal was free, he pulled the gun from his jeans and fired at Marco, hitting him square in the chest.

  The silver in Marco’s eyes faded to white as he slumped to the ground. Cal knew he’d shot him in the heart. He wasn’t sure where Tony had shot Phillip. He turned around and saw the goon roll over onto his side, groaning in pa
in. Unfortunately, he would survive.

  Tony looked at Cal with fear in his eyes, perhaps surprised he’d survived the attack. Cal glimpsed at the street and saw pedestrians gazing into the alley. It would only be a matter of time before the police arrived and Cal and Tony would be questioned.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  9

  Vinnie toyed with the bangs of his long brown hair, contemplating whether he should cut it. With the recent scaling back of business due to increased police scrutiny, there were less day-to-day operations for him to direct. That was fine with him. A Tech Insider magazine lay on the coffee table in front of him, and Vinnie had nearly devoured the entire periodical already.

  A knock at the door startled him. Vinnie was staying at his luxury suite in the Gold Coast neighborhood. The fact that someone was knocking meant they had come from the inside. Out of habit, Vinnie checked the peephole and felt relief once he saw his father’s burly frame standing outside. His own suite was a few floors up.

  “I was hoping you’d be here,” Alfredo said as he walked in wearing one of his custom-made suits and Brunello Cucinelli wingtip shoes. He took a cigar out of his breast pocket and lit it as Vinnie closed the door.

  “Hey, don’t smoke in here. The place will reek for days.”

  “What are you gonna do about it? All of you were lighting up in my place the other night.”

  Vinnie scowled and sat down on the couch in the open living room. Sometimes he grew tired of being in his father’s shadow and longed for the day when he’d be boss.

  Alfredo remained focused on the old way of making money. Bribing politicians and cops to turn a blind eye to drugs, prostitution, loan-sharking, contracts, and all of the other traditional areas of the mafia business was only so effective. His temper often didn’t do him many favors with the people he needed to buy off. Vinnie was already several steps ahead of his father, thinking about the next frontier for the mafia to make a killing. His Tech Insider magazine talked about the next wave of technology; articles on cryptocurrencies, virtual reality, and cyber security got his brain thinking. He hadn’t figured everything out yet, but he knew he’d be the one to lead the mafia into the twenty-first century.