A Spoon A Spear and A Saint

 

There had to be something else. I squatted next to Dante’s body. I looked more closely at the gunshot wounds then moved my eyes down to his hands. I peered at the one with the pinky ring on it then turned to the other hand, something was in it. I listened for Pin Up Man’s return as I reached down and slowly pulled a necklace from the late Don's hand. I had returned to a standing position and was facing the direction of the room Pin Up Man had disappeared into with the necklace safely tucked in my coat pocket by the time he reappeared.

“Here it is. The paperwork must have gotten buried during the move.” He said as he handed a folder to me.

As I began to review the paperwork Pin Up Man shifted uncomfortably.

“Would you like to look at that some place else?” He asked.

I looked at Pin Up. He nodded in the direction of Dante Vitali’s body.

“Uncomfortable?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Let’s go to another room.”

“There’s a dining area on the other side of the living room. We can work in there.” He said walking through the apartment, quickly. “I’ll make coffee.”

Pin Up Man making coffee gave me the opening I needed. “Great.” I said. I followed him through the apartment and waited for him to show me into the dining room before asking about a restroom.

“Sure. My office is on the other side of the hall. It has one.” He said pointing in the general direction I needed to go.

I set the folder on the dining table and said, “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”

“Sounds good.” I responded. He hightailed it to the kitchen and I headed for the restroom to make my call. My secretary, Monique picked up on the third ring. “Great I caught you.” I waited while she told me how this was not a good time. “Which date is this? You really should make him wait ten minutes.”

“This guy is new. It’s not nice to keep a man waiting.” She protested.

“Keeping him waiting is important. It’s a great way to find out how controlling he is.”

She kept talking. Monique must like this one.

“I’m your boss. If he gets obnoxious about your boss keeping you an extra ten minutes on the third date he’s probably a dick.”

“And we have bullshit logic again.” Monique said.

“Okay, it’s bullshit logic but I am hiding in a client’s bathroom and there is a dead guy laying in his hallway so a bit of help would be nice.”

I held the phone away from my ear as Monique freaked out for a bit. “I could get out of here faster if you would please reach into my desk and pull out the Vitali file. The second drawer on the left.”

“What do you need to know?” She asked.

“Good question.” I reached into my pocket with the other hand and pulled out the necklace. “The dead guy was holding a necklace with two pendants on it. One is a medal, a St. Michael's. The other looks like the Vitali family crest with something in front of it.” I studied the pendant closely. “It’s a symbol with a spear at the base and the top is the end of a spoon? Is there any information about symbols for the family other than the crest?” I listened as Monique turned pages. “Do any of the family members have an individual symbol? What about Santino? He was the one who established it.”

I listened as Monique read what she found. “During the earliest days of Santino Vitali’s leadership the mafia Don would leave a calling card on the bodies of those who had betrayed the family. It was left as a warning to others. There was nothing on the face of the card other than the Vitali crest with a symbol in front of it. The symbol depicted a spear coming from its base, a simple chalice with blood dripping from its edge showed at the top.”

“The one I'm looking at could be some variation of Santino’s symbol.”

“Who else would have a special symbol...” Monique contemplated.

“Another founding member of the family would be my guess. How many pages are there?”

“Too many for me to stand here and read it to you.” She responded.

“It sounds like I’m going to have to find another source of information.”

“It’s only been six minutes, you want me to call the cops before I leave?” She asked.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, you alone in an apartment with a stranger and a strange body? People tend to call the cops when a dead body is in their general vicinity. Normal people do anyway.”

“No. I know who shot the victim the first time and I've already identified the body.”

“The first time?” Monique asked. “This doesn’t sound good even for you. The victim isn't one of the Vitalis is it?”

“It is.”

Monique sighed and made this grumbling noise in the back of her throat. A noise she only makes when she’s talking to me about a case. “I’m not going to tell you to call the cops and get the hell out because I know better. I do have a question for you, if you die what do I tell your nonna?”

“Tell Nonna I died doing what I love, hand her the paperwork and the lawyer’s business card then say ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’”

“I’m sorry for your loss?”

“Nonna knows you wouldn’t say that because you would be every bit as broken up as she is. They are my words, Nonna would recognize them. It means I lived my life my way and she shouldn’t blame anyone else for when or how I died.”

“You are messed up boss lady, really messed up.” I heard papers shuffling and the drawer slamming as Monique put the file away. “Time’s up. I’ve got to go.”

“Me too.” I admitted. “This guy is going to think I fell in the toilet and drowned.”

“A bad case of diarrhea would get you out of there quickly.” Monique suggested.

“Nice try. Have fun with the new guy.” I said before ending the call.

May This Godfather Rest In Peace

Pin Up Man followed me to the far end of the hall and his recently deceased guest. I looked down. I saw expensive shoes, a pair of trousers, and a shirt. My eyes stopped at the left hand and the distinct ring on the dead guy’s pinky finger, holding back the urge to question Pin Up Man’s story I continued my assessment. There were two gunshot wounds to the chest. The man died with his eyes open. His face frozen in an expression of surprise.

I heard Nonna’s voice echo through my cranial cavity. Che il viaggio dell’ amina abbia successo.

I looked at Pin Up Man. “You never mentioned you worked with the Vitali family.”

“I don’t.”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, pulled up a recent news article and showed it to him. “This is Dante Vitali the head of the Vitali crime family. He is laying on the floor in your hallway. He’s dead.”

Pin Up Man looked surprised, almost as surprised as Dante.

I continued. “Which is the bad news.”

“The good news?”

“...you didn’t kill him.”

Pin Up Man stared at me for a moment like I’d lost my mind. “There are two bullet holes in this man and I told you I shot him.” He pushed on Vitali’s leg with his foot. “He looks pretty dead to me.”

“Che il viaggio dell’ amina abbia successo.” I said repeating my grandmother’s words.

“May the journey of the amina be successful?” He asked.

“You speak a little Italian?”

“This is New York, I’ve picked up a few bits and pieces.”

“May the journey of the soul be successful. It’s something my nonna says when someone has died. That is what told me you didn’t kill Dante.”

Pin Up Man waited for the rest of the story.

“Nonna has a gift for seeing souls. She has watched as many souls have left the body to begin their journey.”

“To heaven?”

“Not necessarily. The soul has to be weighed and judged before it moves on to Heaven or Hell. But Nonna always wishes them well. She’s been doing it since she saw her first soul.” I looked at Pin Up Man. “Nonna says the soul leaves the body within the first thirty minutes of death.”

Pin Up Man looked at the face of his Jaeger-LeCoultre, “I left for your office over an hour ago.”

“You shot him but you didn’t kill him.”

“When I left he was still alive?” Pin Up Man’s face paled. “I could have called for help.”

“When the ambulance arrived there would have been two bodies.” I pointed to Dante Vitale’s body. “That shot to his heart killed him immediately meaning it was a professional hit. From the look of surprise on his face, it was someone he knew and trusted who killed him. Someone like that would not have left any witnesses behind. Leaving the apartment was the smartest thing you could have done.” I studied the hallway. The walls, the floor, I opened all the doors and looked inside. Every room off of the hall was a potential access point. At this height where had Pin Up Man's visitors come from? I continued walking around. “Do you have neighbors on both sides?”

“Yes. Do you think they might have heard something?”

Feeling a cool draft on the back of my neck I turned around and looked up. “Who lives in the penthouse above you?”

“Some VIP no one mentions. It’s all very hush hush. Come to think of it, I was told if I bought a penthouse in this building I could be put on a special list for an extra fee.”

I returned my attention to Pin Up Man. “Meaning?”

“For the extra payment, which is substantial, they provide you with a butler, a cook, daily housekeeping, priority use of any of the building’s other amenities along with their privacy package. The privacy package is a doozy. It includes a Service NDA. Everyone who works in the building is bound by a non-disclosure agreement. They would not be able to confirm or deny that a purchaser of that privacy package lives here.”

“What happens to deliveries, packages, mail that sort of thing.”

“If the person is a resident the concierge delivers it. If they do not a courier delivers it where it needs to go. I decided I wasn’t interested in the VIP package and chose a more modest floor plan. I’m a bit of a minimalist.”

I looked at Pin Up Man.

“I still work for a living.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“A few months.”

“Do you still have the info they gave you when you were buying the place; floor plans, amenities that kind of thing?”

“I think I do.”

Pin Up Man went into his office and I took another look at the stiff. I checked for a wallet there was none suggesting that I was right, Dante was living here somewhere in the building or visiting someone. He had emptied his pockets as many men do when undressing or getting comfortable because they are in for the night. I was already wearing gloves so it was easy to pick up his hand and get a better look at the pinky ring. The Vitali crest was prominently displayed across the face of the ring. I knew Dante wasn’t a kid anymore but he wasn’t middle aged either. I also knew from word around town he chose to live more quietly than those who worked for him. I patted the body down as gently as I could and found no weapons, but living quietly didn’t make him any less of a bad guy. The stories of his brutality were well known which made me wonder what could make a man like Dante Vitali want to flee his own home? Where a guy like him would go when he left it.