When I was twenty-five years old,” Carmine begins, “Rina Andriano was eighteen. I was her first love. I was the first and only man that she made love to. And only once,” Carmine notes wistfully.
“When the FBI started pursuing me, I didn’t know she was pregnant. They were on my ass trying to prove that I’d murdered a government witness who was about to testify against the Outfit. They had no real evidence of this, but it didn’t matter. Knowing I was the FBI’s main target, the Outfit bosses decided that I should go on the run and avoid the investigation for as long as I could. I was preparing to leave when I found out Rina was with child. I argued with the bosses, I pleaded with them to let me stay. But the Outfit needed me out of sight and ordered me to leave, so I had no choice.
“The night before I left, Tony Andriano sat down with me and urged—no, begged—me not to contact Rina. Nor was I ever to acknowledge that Rina’s baby was mine.
“I knew Tony well. I knew he was fond of me. I knew his deceased father and his family in Sicily, as they were from my father’s home town.
“From nothing, my father became a boss here in Chicago. After he died here, my mother and sister went back to Sicily. But I stayed. I never wanted to leave. This was home. When Tony asked me to promise to never contact Rina or see my unborn child, it was the hardest decision I ever made. But I did so, not knowing what the future held for me. I escaped to Sicily, where I was protected and hidden.
“The Feds indicted me a few years later on circumstantial evidence, presented by an informant, a rat named Bobby Valedomo. But back in the homeland, I gained stature. I was in contact with the bosses in Chicago the whole time, and they kept me apprised on all matters. They told me that Valedomo further dishonored himself by revealing my whereabouts in Sicily.
“So, after years of pursuit, I was apprehended, and with the help of the Italian government, I was extradited and brought back here to Chicago. I did not fight the extradition. I thought that matters would be resolved in my favor, that the bosses had worked something out.”
Carmine pauses briefly for effect.
“But I was wrong. I was locked up with no bail. But I stood my ground, never cooperating with the Feds. Finally, after three years in purgatory, I had my day in court. The only witness, Bobby “Fucking” Valedomo, testified. The lowlife lied his way through the testimony, but the government propped him up on all of his inconsistent statements.
“My lawyers argued that the evidence was purely circumstantial and relied on a single witness, and an unreliable one at that. After several days of hearings, the prosecutors agreed to reduce my charges to aggravated manslaughter. I suppose I should have been grateful that I wasn’t convicted on first degree murder. Ultimately, I decided, along with the bosses, not to fight it any longer. I was sentenced to fifteen years.
“But the fact remained: I was innocent. I never killed that fucking government witness. But that didn’t matter. I would not rat. Meanwhile, Valedomo was quickly placed in the Witness Protection Program to be secreted away. They needed him gone.
“In prison, my feelings toward Rina only grew stronger. I was at peace with the fact that my son was going to live a normal life. Maybe I thought he would know in his blood who he was. Throughout it all, I sincerely felt that after everything I went through, one day, I would be reunited with him and my Rina. Now I doubt any of that can happen.”
Vincent gets up and paces. It’s his turn to speak. He tells Paulie’s father all about his son. All throughout Vincent’s recitation, Carmine seems enraptured, listening intently.
“I think you should meet with Rina,” Vincent says, as he finishes speaking. “You say you love her, so prove it. I will help you in any way I can—any way as long as it does not hurt Paulie. You have my word that I will definitely try.”
Carmine gets up and embraces Vincent with a bearlike hug, holding him tight.
“I’m so happy,” Carmine says, almost teary-eyed, “that Paulie has such a loyal friend, one who cares so much about him.”
Then he pushes Vincent away and looks in his eyes.
“So, tell me about yourself,” he says. “I hear you have brains.”
“I’ve given my allegiance.”
Carmine embraces Vincent one last time. He’s reluctant to let him leave, but he does.
Vincent walks to his car, his head swimming more than it ever has before, and thinks, What a fucking day!