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The Gate House :: Demille Nelson
Страница: 20 из 490Prior to my wife clipping Frank Bellarosa, someone else had attempted the same thing, and the prime suspect was Uncle Sal. This had occurred at a restaurant in Little Italy, at which I was unfortunately present and close enough to Dandy Don Bellarosa and Vinnie, his bodyguard, to get splattered with Vinnie’s blood. Not one of my better nights out.
In any case, Uncle Sal was not present at the failed hit, of course, but his signature was most probably on the contract. I hate it when families squabble, and though I’m personally familiar with the problem, none of the Sutters or Stanhopes, to the best of my knowledge, have ever taken out a contract on a family member… though it’s not a bad idea. In fact, I think I just found some use for Anthony Bellarosa. Just kidding. Really.
Anthony finally replied, “He’s okay.”
“Good. Give your uncle Sal my regards when you see him.”
“Yeah.”
There are some things in life that you never forget, and those months during the spring and summer leading up to Frank’s death in October and my leaving Susan are filled with sights and sounds that are truly burned into my mind forever. In addition to seeing Vinnie’s head blown off with a shotgun right in front of my face, another sight that I will never forget is of young Anthony Bellarosa at his father’s graveside. The boy held up extremely well – better than his mother, Anna, who was wailing and fainting every few minutes – and in Anthony’s eyes I could see something beyond grief, and I saw him staring at his uncle Sal with such intensity that the older man could not hold eye contact with his young nephew. It was obvious to me, and to everyone, that the boy knew that his uncle had tried to kill his father. It was also obvious that Anthony Bellarosa would someday settle the score. So I was surprised to discover that Uncle Sal was still alive and well – and that Uncle Sal hadn’t killed Anthony yet.
These gentlemen, however, as I’d learned in my brief association with don Bellarosa and his extended family, were extremely patient and prudent when considering who needed to be whacked, and when.
On that subject, I wondered how Anthony felt about Susan Sutter, who’d succeeded where Uncle Sal had failed. Now that Susan was back – about four hundred yards from here, actually – I wondered… but maybe that was a subject best left alone, so I stuck to family chatter and asked Anthony, “How is your mother?”
“She’s good. Back in Brooklyn.” He added, “I’ll tell her I saw you.”
“Please pass on my regards.”
“Yeah. She liked you.”
“The feeling was mutual.
In any case, Uncle Sal was not present at the failed hit, of course, but his signature was most probably on the contract. I hate it when families squabble, and though I’m personally familiar with the problem, none of the Sutters or Stanhopes, to the best of my knowledge, have ever taken out a contract on a family member… though it’s not a bad idea. In fact, I think I just found some use for Anthony Bellarosa. Just kidding. Really.
Anthony finally replied, “He’s okay.”
“Good. Give your uncle Sal my regards when you see him.”
“Yeah.”
There are some things in life that you never forget, and those months during the spring and summer leading up to Frank’s death in October and my leaving Susan are filled with sights and sounds that are truly burned into my mind forever. In addition to seeing Vinnie’s head blown off with a shotgun right in front of my face, another sight that I will never forget is of young Anthony Bellarosa at his father’s graveside. The boy held up extremely well – better than his mother, Anna, who was wailing and fainting every few minutes – and in Anthony’s eyes I could see something beyond grief, and I saw him staring at his uncle Sal with such intensity that the older man could not hold eye contact with his young nephew. It was obvious to me, and to everyone, that the boy knew that his uncle had tried to kill his father. It was also obvious that Anthony Bellarosa would someday settle the score. So I was surprised to discover that Uncle Sal was still alive and well – and that Uncle Sal hadn’t killed Anthony yet.
These gentlemen, however, as I’d learned in my brief association with don Bellarosa and his extended family, were extremely patient and prudent when considering who needed to be whacked, and when.
On that subject, I wondered how Anthony felt about Susan Sutter, who’d succeeded where Uncle Sal had failed. Now that Susan was back – about four hundred yards from here, actually – I wondered… but maybe that was a subject best left alone, so I stuck to family chatter and asked Anthony, “How is your mother?”
“She’s good. Back in Brooklyn.” He added, “I’ll tell her I saw you.”
“Please pass on my regards.”
“Yeah. She liked you.”
“The feeling was mutual.