The Butcher (Cold Hollow Mysteries Book 5) Page 13

  They stood and took a seat in the line as Corrine approached from the ladies’ room and sat beside Tom. She reached out and held his hand while whispering, “Don’t be upset with your sister. It’s all part of the plan.”

  He stiffened and turned to Myrna with fear in his eyes. Liam sat patiently, his legs swinging back and forth as he waited for people to arrive. Myrna leaned into Tom and asked, “Did you forget your silk?”

  He stared at his deceased father’s face, ground his teeth, and shook his head. “I delivered it here yesterday. Steve’s holding it.”

  Adam, Fran, and Timmy came from the reception desk and took their seats, leaving an available spot next to Liam for Delilah, who walked from the rest room with a flourish. Myrna’s mouth dropped wide open. She blinked, and she swore her vision was screwed up. Patricia Whittier was approaching her. Tom was shaking and pushing his back against the chair in disbelief. “What the hell?”

  Delilah bowed before them, stood straight, and sauntered over to her chair, where she plopped down. Corrine leaned into Tom and said, “I did a pretty good makeup job, huh?”

  He hung his head and whispered, “Jesus Christ almighty.”

  She patted his hand. “Sorry, Tom. He’s not here today.”

  ***

  As Chief Hanover left the station, he gave orders to Ted Cutler: “Call the annex and have them tell Ivan it’s time to pick up Samuel. When he gets here, let the bastard out of the cage. Make sure there’s an officer on duty to man the phones and keep an eye on Eddie. I’ve got to get to the wake now. Are you coming later?”

  Ted winked at him. “Sylvia and I will be right behind Ivan.”

  The chief patted his shoulder and mumbled, “Good man,” as he left.

  It didn’t take long for Ivan to pull up to the station’s front door. Ted stood and frisked him as he entered, patted his chest, and asked, “You ready, big guy?”

  Ivan smiled. “Da. I ready.” Ted retrieved Samuel’s personal items, shoes, coat, top hat, and cane and placed them on a nearby chair. He then made his way to the cell. He unlocked it and escorted Samuel to the front of the station to hear him clucking, “I knew they had nothing on me, Ivan. I knew it! This was all a setup, a ruse, nothing more.”

  Ivan remained stoic and watched as Ted Cutler shoved him forward and said, “Shut up and put your costume on.” Judging from the look on Boss Sam’s face, Ivan thought something had snapped in his mind during his brief stay at the police station.

  Once Samuel was ready to leave, he turned to Ted Cutler and bowed a bit. “I thank you for the accommodations. It’s been most enlightening.”

  Ted Cutler smirked. “You’re being released on one condition. You’re required to attend the wake for Maurice Gillette and Big Lou Petrone. If you don’t attend, you will end up right back inside the pen. Ivan here is going to make sure you go.”

  Samuel turned to Ivan, who stood still as stone. He turned back to Ted. “I would love to pay my respects to the two great men of this town.”

  Ivan grasped his upper arm, escorted him from the station, and got him inside the passenger’s seat, where he sat caressing the urn holding his deceased sister’s remains.

  Ivan rolled his eyes, started the engine, and drove to the funeral parlor.

  As they drove, Samuel wanted to oust Ivan from the Hummer and drive full speed out of town, but one thing stopped him. He had to know if Patty was being held hostage or if her remains truly were in the urn. This was the question that burned in his soul.

  ***

  Myrna remembered something and dug through her pocketbook. She pulled out the chief’s medal and stood before the coffins. Adam got up and approached her. “What’s wrong?”

  Myrna explained, “The chief received this medal of valor in law enforcement for shutting down the drug ring out of New York. He doesn’t want it. He said to give it to them.” She shook her head. “I don’t know which one to give it to.”

  Adam examined the medal. “My Uncle Lou’s hypocrisy only went so far. I mean, sure he’d get a kick out of it, but naw…boss orchestrated the entire rescue. Put it on him.”

  Myrna thanked him, stepped over to Maurice, and pinned it to his lapel, right below the red rose boutonniere.

  Wanda the Witch showed up first at the funeral parlor, dressed in long black robes. She approached Myrna and spoke in a dry, raspy voice, “The cold rain stopped, and I feel a firestorm coming.” Wanda pointed to Maurice and Big Lou. “The town loves them. Bury them deep, and they’ll never leave your side.”

  Myrna leaned toward the old woman and asked, “Where do you think we should bury them?”

  Wanda’s eyes went a bit wild as she thought, and then she released a dry cough and whispered in an ominous tone, “To the place they enjoyed. To the place in the photo they loved.”

  Myrna thanked her; she never questioned how the woman knew the things she knew. No one in town ignored her warnings or suggestions. She watched the woman advance toward the coffins and wave her hands over both the deceased men, turn, and approach Liam. As she knelt before him, she clasped his hands in hers and smiled. “You have the gift, boy. Use it well.” She waved her hand before his face.

  Liam stared into the woman’s eyes and stated, “I’ll see my Grandpa and Big Lou again. That much, I know.”

  She brushed a crooked finger across his nose. Adam helped her stand straight; once upright, she shuffled over and stood behind Myrna’s chair. She leaned down and informed her, “I’m waiting for the snake.” Myrna didn’t object.

  As the townsfolk began flooding in the doors and Tom was busy with coworkers from the hospital, Adam approached Myrna and tugged on her sleeve as he hooked a thumb at Wanda. “What’d she say?” When Myrna informed Adam, she watched as he stood tall and smiled. “I like the idea. We’ll do it in the spring when we go to retrieve Big Lou’s men. Does Tom like the idea?”

  Myrna displayed a sad smile. “I think he will, and I know Liam will be happy he can hike up there with Hugo and visit them both. I also think Delilah will love the idea. But I’ll ask them and make certain.”

  “Thanks, Myrna. It’s good to get some important decisions made.”

  The parking lot was filling fast with other crime syndicate bosses from New York and hit men, coming to pay their respects to Big Lou and to console Adam and Timmy. Some of the truckers from Gillette Distribution had also made the trip and gave their condolences to Tom, Delilah, and Adam. The truckers and mobsters softly conversed with each other as the reception line grew deep. There was a basket set up for condolence cards, and it was filling to capacity. Chief Hanover stepped up to Myrna, and she leaned forward and spoke softly in his ear. Whatever she said, he only replied with a nod.

  Many officers from the police department arrived to pay their respects as well. They admired Maurice for his generosity and kindness to all the citizens of the town and for his generosity to the police department.

  They admired Big Lou for holding up his end of the bargain with the chief by not running roughshod over the town but leaving an open tab for the officers at both Carla’s Fine Cuisine and the tavern. He never missed a payment to either establishment. Little did they know that Adam and Timmy would continue the tradition.

  The two men entering the establishment next made the crowd go silent. Myrna elbowed Tom and said, “It’s go time.” Hugo Morrissey advanced swiftly and swept Liam up in his arms to take him to a separate room in the building with the promise he could return in a little while.

  Myrna watched Tom slip away. Delilah took the stage and put her back to the new arrivals as she stood before Maurice’s coffin. Adam and Timmy met Ivan and held him back from walking farther into the room. The boldness of Samuel stunned those in attendance. He strode up the aisle, wearing the ridiculous top hat and carrying his cane. Before he reached the reception line, Myrna watched Ivan raise his arms in surrender and urge Adam to pull an envelope from inside his coat. Adam did and turned to see Myrna smiling. Her expression changed when Samuel appr
oached. It grew positively evil. She raised her arm to the ceiling, pointed her forefinger upward, and twirled her wrist in a circular fashion. All the police officers and townsfolk, including the chief, stood and turned to face the walls. The chief signaled Ted Cutler and Sylvia Rossini to leave the building. She watched them slip out as Adam and Timmy escorted Ivan outside to the parking lot. Myrna spied Bertrand in the back row of chairs. She gave him and Artie a nod and watched them follow Adam, Timmy, and Ivan. The mobsters and truckers stood in puzzled silence.

  Samuel stopped his advance when he saw the woman standing before Maurice Gillette’s coffin. He narrowed his eyes and said aloud, “Patricia?”

  Delilah turned around, her face contorted in an expression of rage. She asked, “What have you done, Samuel! How could you kill them?”

  He swallowed what little spittle he could gather as he drew nearer, keeping eye contact with the woman he thought was his sister. He begged, “Come home with me. Today, right now!”

  Instead of replying, she pulled pins out of her hair, let it loose, and fluffed it out to soft, spilling gentle curls. She then wiped at her face with tissues, removing excess makeup. His face twisted in anger as he dropped his cane, rushed her, grabbed her shoulders, and shook her while she laughed like a lunatic. “You bitch! It was you all along!”

  He turned to Myrna and shouted, “Mayor Bradbury! This is what has been going on in this town, right under your nose!”

  Myrna stated, “My name is Mayor Gillette, you boorish ass!” The look of shock on his face was worth the ruse.

  Delilah pushed forward in a flash; balling her right hand into a fist, she punched Samuel in the face. With her left, she grabbed hold of his neck and squeezed with all the strength she could muster. Samuel’s eyes went wide in surprise. A woman her size should never have had the kind of strength she was displaying. It was not normal. When he stared into her eyes, he saw a deep abyss of madness.

  Wanda walked forward, spat on his feet, and gave him the evil eye before shuffling from the building. The Mafia crowd gasped when they witnessed the evil eye but continued to watch and listen to Delilah, who now held the crowd’s attention.

  She paralyzed Samuel with her grip and watched in glee as his face turned a wonderful shade of crimson. She began forcing him backward, away from the caskets. She growled, “Did it make you feel like a man to kill my father and Big Lou? Did it? You fall pitifully shy in that area. You, sir, are a miserable failure at life! You murdered the wrong men!” Her voice’s volume escalated with each sentence she spewed at the man.

  Tom came up from behind Samuel and knocked his top hat to the floor while slipping a silk noose around his neck. Delilah released her grip on his neck and kicked his feet out from under him. He landed with a thump as Tom dragged him backward on the carpet toward the entrance of the building. Samuel’s face was a solid shade of blood red as he reached up and struggled to release the silk noose. There was grumbling from the mobsters as they followed Tom out the door to the parking area.

  Once they were successful, Delilah ran to get their coats, and she and Myrna followed the procession outside. Chief Hanover’s men continued staring at the wall, but the chief followed Myrna after pointedly telling Fran and Corrine, “Stay put.”

  Outside, poor Samuel Whittier was being beaten within an inch of his life. Adam was bent over him with a pair of shears and pliers; a bloody tongue lay lifeless beside his body. Tom leaned down and handed Adam a surgical stapler. Myrna watched as two henchmen held Samuel’s mouth wide open and Adam stapled the stump of his severed tongue. Adam leaned down close to Samuel’s face and growled, “You…you with your slick tongue and smooth words. Well, lemme tell you something. The boss was the Maestro when it came to speaking and telling tales. You? You sounded like a grunting, satiated pig in comparison. Well, not anymore. I gotta do right by him. I do this for me and his family.” Tears of anger and grief rolled down Adam’s face as Samuel howled in pain. Adam continued to use the staple gun. He was using more staples than were necessary, but no one seemed to mind. He wasn’t done with the man. “Now, I need to do right by my godfather…my Uncle Lou. You were a coward—too scared to approach him head on, so you attacked from behind. He couldn’t see you coming, so now you ain’t gonna see too good either.” He drew a switchblade, clicked it open, and carved out Samuel’s left eye. It rolled about the pavement as Tom handed Adam some gauze. Adam jammed it in the empty socket as Samuel continued screaming and gurgling wordlessly. “I do this for the entire Petrone line. In case you’re thinking of retaliating…don’t. We got a long line. Each one tougher and meaner than the last.”

  The blood gushed from Samuel’s mouth and leaked from his missing left eye as Myrna approached the crowd. Shouting above the din, she proclaimed, “There will be no more deaths in my town!” The men stopped their assault and turned to her. She looked down at Samuel and asked, “Are you capable of driving?”

  He pointed to his mouth and nodded. He looked for assistance to Ivan, who stood there holding his suitcase and duffle bag. “Ivan not going. Ivan stay here. Ivan happy you get what you deserve.”

  Samuel’s good eye drifted over to Myrna, who stood tall above him. “Leave this place while you can.”

  Delilah approached Samuel and kicked him in the ribs—hard enough, Myrna would later swear, she heard a rib snap. He screamed in pain again and spat blood, and the sound brought a beautiful smile to Delilah’s face.

  One of the Mafia bosses elbowed Timmy and said with a grin, “That broad is a pretty little package of insanity, ain’t she?”

  Timmy looked at Delilah wearing a star-struck expression. “I’m gonna marry her someday.” The boss just rolled his eyes and wished him luck.

  Samuel managed to turn over and began crawling to his beloved vehicle on all fours when someone yelled, “Dead man crawling!”

  The crowd stayed put and watched as he slowly climbed into his vehicle and started the engine, just as Bertrand Sweeney rolled out from the undercarriage. Samuel’s bruised and battered face turned to the passenger-side window, where he spied Bertrand standing there, smiling and waving good-bye. It was only then he realized Delilah hadn’t lied. He had killed the wrong men. It was Bertrand he should have been targeting all along.

  Samuel Whittier pulled out of the funeral home parking lot. The crowd stood at the edge of the parking area and watched the Hummer roll down Main Street.

  Samuel turned to see his sister’s urn in the passenger’s seat and thought the experience he had just endured was like walking into a den of rabid badgers. It was no wonder his sister hadn’t survived the town. He was grateful they were leaving now and going home, where he could seek professional medical care for his injuries. The pain was excruciating, and his only hope was that he didn’t pass out before making it to the nearest hospital. He planned to report his assault to the police and bring the town of Cold Hollow to its knees.

  As soon as the Hummer rolled through the covered bridge and past the town sign, the car hit road spikes Sylvia Rossini and Ted Cutler had laid down in the road. As the vehicle lurched and became airborne, Myrna, Artie, and Bertrand each took out a detonation device and depressed the device’s red button. Myrna watched as the vehicle exploded, not knowing whose device had delivered the killing blow. Debris and flames rocketed through the air. Samuel Whittier died in the same fashion as his sister.

  Bertrand Sweeney watched in awe. This was the biggest audience he had ever gained. He stood satisfied and finally felt his dark side receding.

  The chief turned to Myrna. “Did you do that? I thought you said no more deaths in your town!”

  Myrna’s lips twitched as she replied, “His vehicle must have had a faulty gas tank or something. Also, he’s not technically in my town, Chief. He passed the town limits.” She turned and strode back into the funeral parlor.

  One of the New York mobsters commented, “You guys really know how to throw a wake. Big Lou woulda loved it.”

  Adam grinned and nudged the man.
“Shut up, Cricket.”

  The satisfied group followed Myrna, and the mourning began in a more respectable manner to the sound of rescue and fire trucks making their way to the city limits.

  Myrna seated Ivan in the front row and held his hand and squeezed it. “The Butcher is finally dead.”

  Ivan’s forehead creased in confusion, and he shook his head. “Nyet, Red Lady. Boss Sam not butcher. Ivan is real butcher.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Handguns were raised and pointed at Ivan’s chest, head, and neck within a second. He instinctively raised his hands in the air as Adam approached. “Hold on, Myrna. I think you should look at this first.”

  He handed her a sheaf of papers. The drawings on each paper were crude, and the writing was that of a second grader, but as she began reading and handing them to the chief, she thought she deciphered the tale correctly. She turned to the men holding guns on Ivan and said, “Please lower your weapons.” They did as she asked, and she turned her attention to Ivan. “I will speak, and you will tell me if I understand this correctly.” Ivan nodded, and his eyes were pleading with her as she began. “Your mother, father, and you immigrated here from Russia. Your father couldn’t find work and had to give you up as a child.”

  “Da. Ivan given to Old Man.”

  Myrna shook her head. “So, Old Man Whittier took you in, as what, cheap labor? He kept you but treated you poorly, yes?”

  “Da. He say I dumb. He get me Russian man to teach, but he no teacher. It was joke. He keep me close and work me hard.”

  “Where is your real father? Do you know?”

  Ivan explained, “My Papa sneak into shop one day after Old Man die. He tell me where he live and work now.” He turned sad and whispered, “Mama died.” Myrna squeezed his arm, and he said, “He need to come here with me. I will go back and get him.”

  “How? You have no money, no means.”