The call came in on Frankie’s private line promptly at six, but Frankie moved into action before then, dispatching her people to gather every scrap of intel they could on David Schaffer. She waited in her office, adrenaline fueling her. She was doing something. Engaged. Back in control.
Her consigliere reported back first with a D&B on the company, a rundown of Schaffer’s personal finances, and a criminal background check, which turned up nothing on the man, not even a speeding ticket. Her lawyers followed with a detailed C.V. Nick’s people filled in the blanks with a list of Schaffer’s clients as well as an analysis of his relationship with Macedonian Metals. Slowly the pieces began to fit together: how Schaffer had built his company from the ground up; how he nearly lost it when the price of coltan skyrocketed; how he downsized to survive.
Frankie’s people even ferreted out the name of the man who had come to work for him from the Agency—the friend of Walters who dealt with Ramon in Angola. The clincher came when one of Frankie’s men called Schaffer’s house on Beacon Hill, claiming he had to contact him ASAP. His wife told them he was on a quick business trip to Chicago. After the call, Frankie told Gino to call his counterpart in one of the Boston Families and ask him to pay a visit to David Schaffer’s wife. Ten minutes later Gino reported that two men were on their way.
So Frankie was prepared when the call came. They’d discussed tracing it, but they knew it would be futile. He would cloak the call through some impenetrable internet labyrinth. He’d also make sure to keep it under a minute so they couldn’t triangulate his location.
The voice, probably one of his goons, sounded metallic, altered in some way. Frankie was told to meet them at O’Hare’s long-term Parking Lot E at midnight opposite the entrance. She or her deputy should arrive in one car, and only two people inside. It went without saying, the voice added, that no weapons were permitted. Any deviation would scuttle the deal.
The location made Frankie think Schaffer and his people were holed up at one of the hotels near the airport. While she was still on the phone, she motioned Gino into her office.
“What’s my guarantee you will give back Luisa?” she asked into the phone.
“She’ll be in the car. A clean exchange. The map for the girl.” A pause. “But there is one other condition.” The voice continued as if reading a script. “After you hand over the map, if we find out you’re going after the mine in any way, shape, or form, we will come after you again. And next time we won’t be as reasonable.”
The call was disconnected.
Frankie looked at the clock. They still had several hours. Gino stood at attention. She hung up and repeated what the voice said.
“O’Hare Long Term Parking? Are you shitting me?” When Frankie didn’t answer, Gino blew out a scornful breath. “Fucking amateurs!”
Frankie shrugged, as if to say ‘what are you going to do?’ Then, “You need to get the word out to the hotels around O’Hare. There aren’t that many, and we have connections at almost all of them. Use as many men as you need. We’re looking for a man named David Schaffer. He’s probably registered under an alias, and he will have paid cash. And he probably has more than one room. He flew here from Boston, if that helps.”
Gino scowled. “We can’t canvass them all by midnight. There are too many. If we could have narrowed it down, traced the call, it might have been easier.”
Frankie’s eyes flashed. She and Gino were getting along. Barely. She knew he was still measuring, wondering if a woman was up to the job. But she had promised her father to keep him on. At least for a while. She ignored his objections.
“Like I said, use as many people as you need. Including the other Families, if you have to. We’ll settle up later.” She paused. “Now, about tonight. He’ll be well protected. Probably by paramilitary types. Mercenaries. Maybe ex-Agency men. You need to be prepared.”
“Do they know who we are?”
“If they didn’t before, they do now. They called me.”
The man’s eyebrows arched. “How did they find you?”
Frankie thought about it. “That’s none of your concern,” she said icily. But she was curious how they discovered who she was and how she had the map. Later.
“Guy’s got to have steel balls to think he can take us on,” Gino said.
“That’s why you’re going to put together a second team. Choose your best men. Position both teams at the hotel by ten.” She explained that Schaffer probably would still be at the hotel, and there was an excellent chance they could grab him—and Luisa—before midnight. One team would take Luisa, the other would deal with Schaffer.
“What if they’re not there?” Gino said.
“Then you’ll find out where they are. Or, if necessary, you’ll meet them at O’Hare. I’m not worried, Gino. I have faith in you,” she said. She didn’t have to spell out the consequences if he failed.
“When do we let him know we have his wife?”
Frankie considered it. “Up to you. But make sure she calls and tells him she’s got ‘company.’”
Gino nodded.
“Oh,” Frankie said, “there’s one more thing.”
When she finished explaining, her capo looked at her with something close to admiration. She even thought she caught the glimmer of a smile. Steel balls indeed.
Two hours later, a bellhop at the Intercontinental in Rosemont confirmed to one of Frankie’s men that two rooms in the hotel were occupied by a John Smith and a Davy Jones. When asked if a woman was with either man, the bellhop admitted he hadn’t seen anyone; then again, it was always possible to sneak in from the parking lot or side door. He also told Frankie’s men they hadn’t put a credit card on file, but when he described the men and reported how much the front desk man had been tipped, Frankie’s guy called it in.
Frankie smiled for the first time in twenty-four hours. She hung up the phone and went into the living room where Carla, Ramon, and a few men waited, including Gino.
“We’re in business,” she said. “It’s time to move.” She explained what they’d learned, then looked around. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to take a long bath, and then have dinner. You are all welcome to eat.”
Ramon, who had been seated next to Carla on the leather sofa, stood. “I want go with team.”
Carla blocked him with her arm. “No.”
A twinge of anger twisted Frankie’s lips. How dare Carla insinuate herself into Frankie’s business again? The first time—well, she was prepared to let it go. She wasn’t a monster. She understood how everyone, including Carla, was on edge. But now? Frankie felt her eyes narrow. She was about to reassert her dominance, then remembered Carla wanted Luisa back as desperately as Frankie. She made a mental note to deal with her later. She turned to Ramon. “There’s no need.”
“Why?” Ramon asked.
“Because there will be no exchange.”
Carla’s face reflected astonishment. “Why? What are you saying, Francesca?”
Frankie explained she would send two teams to the hotel. “If we have to surrender the map temporarily, for Luisa’s sake, once she’s safe and on her way home, we will get it back. There will be no one of any rank on the other side to accept it anyway.”
Carla’s mouth tightened into a grim line.
“All the more reason I go,” Ramon said. “I want to make sure.”
Carla looked like she might argue, but Frankie studied Ramon. The truth was that he had no importance in her life now. He was merely an annoying gnat she could swat away. Or not. She looked back at Carla, whose expression was both anxious and determined. Finally she waved her hand. “If it is that important to you, go.” She glanced around. “The rest of us will regroup in forty-five minutes for supper.”
While the men and Ramon prepared for their mission, Carla peered out the front window. It was dark, and a light, silent snow began to fall. It was barely more than a mist, but spring in Chicago was like that. Tiny bits of white, caught in the lights from the house, swirled and twisted as they covered the grime, the dirt, and the evil.
Carla remembered how Francesca had taken them in so many years ago. At the time Carla thought she’d done it for all the right reasons. Over the years, though, Carla had come to realize that Frankie’s behavior stemmed from her need to control, manage, and manipulate. Frankie’s father had crushed her dreams; rather than fight, she had followed in his footsteps. Whatever Luis and Michael once meant to Frankie was now tainted with her need for conquest and revenge. Everything she’d learned in Cuba: the power of love and beauty and equality, had evaporated as surely as the snowflakes dissolved on the hoods of the cars outside.