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Franky August 1988
A shiver ran down Franky’s body as he skirted around the area where the two men had died the previous week. Franky didn’t know how Costa had managed it, but there wasn’t a single bloodstain left to mar the scene.
“Stop your diddling, boy, and come on.” Antonio was already at the back door to Costa’s house. Franky looked away and hurried to catch up to him. Costa opened the door as Franky walked up.
The men met in Costa’s den again. The mood this time was lighter, less stressed. Between Costa and Bianchi at least, Franky was all nerves. He couldn’t wipe away the look of cold menace he remembered on Costa’s face when Milano was dying. As much as he tried, he couldn’t forget. Maybe it was a good thing. Franky thought he should hold onto it, to never forget Costa’s true colors.
Franky leaned against the wall as the two men took their seats in front of the fireplace. Both held glasses of whiskey. Franky watched as they made small talk, inquiring about each other’s families, and what both men thought would soon be a union between them. Guy was still nuts over Gracie, sneaking away at every opportunity to be with her. Guy thought they were careful, that neither Costa or Bianchi knew about his romance with Gracie. Franky hadn’t informed him otherwise. It didn’t hurt anything for the time being, and Franky wanted to hold the information close to his chest. Just in case it could be used in his favor. Glancing at Costa, he figured he needed leverage wherever he could get it.
Franky spent the day in the library scanning old newspaper articles for any mention of Costa and his family. There weren’t any. Of course, Costa had only risen to top dog in the last year. There hadn’t been time for him to accumulate a history of police surveillance or become the person-of-interest in any crimes. Franky watched him now, smoothly drinking his whiskey. His legs crossed, the creases in his pants and shirt perfectly pressed. Even if Costa had been in power for long, Franky didn’t think there would be shadows cast on him. He just didn’t look the part. There were dozens of articles on his and his wife’s giving and charitable work. But never a photograph. Even the mentions of their lavish wedding didn’t contain a single photo. Costa’s wife, Mary Francis, came from an affluent family. Lots of old money, the papers had called it. Old money meant snooty. At thirty, Costa was exactly where he wanted to be, Franky thought. Clear of suspicion. Clear of shadows. He was projecting nothing more than being an upstanding member of society.
Antonio, on the other hand, fit the mold of an old mobster to a T. His black suit and narrow tie complemented his dark, Italian looks. His squat and muscular frame gave the impression of a street fighter. Getting Antonio to blend in would take a lot of work. At the library, the aide had helped him find fashion magazines to ponder over. Franky decided he needed a cleaner look along with Antonio. Something polished, but not stand-out trendy.
Franky stood up straight when Antonio excused himself to the john. Franky outwardly flinched at the boss’s language. That would be another thing he and Antonio would need to improve on. Their language. Costa rarely, if ever, used foul language.
Costa rose with Antonio, but on Antonio’s exit, he didn’t sit back down. Instead, he came and stood in front of Franky. Franky pulled his shoulders back, trying to stand straight, but yet seem relaxed.
“I wanted to thank you for your actions last week.” Franky tried not to let the pleasure of the compliment override his determination to remember Costa’s deadliness, but it was difficult. Antonio was the only one who had ever given Franky acknowledgment.
“I’d like a private word with you.” Costa didn’t wait for Franky to answer. He walked over to his desk, assuming Franky would follow. He did. Costa sat and indicated for Franky to take a seat across from him. Once they were both settled, he began, “I think you have potential.”
A blush threatened to embarrass Franky. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. Costa picked up a file from his desk, opening the manila folder.
“Tough life you’ve led. The police are regulars in your home.” Costa shuffled papers, looking for his notes. “Antonio pays for your private schooling?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why?”
Franky debated, worrying his lip with his teeth, but figured the truth couldn’t hurt. “Guy was getting bullied. Never could throw a decent punch. Antonio sent me to watch over him.”
Costa’s calculating eyes watched Franky, evaluating him. “Antonio pay for your grades, too?”
“No. That’s all me. I figured I’d better not blow it since I got the chance.”
“Didn’t want to end up like your old man? Fixing diesel engines?” Franky didn’t acknowledge the question. It wasn’t Costa’s business why he chose to make the opportunity work for him. He had plans. Plans that didn’t include working for someone else.
“Admirable. In school, you’ve kept your nose clean. Never been arrested. Worked for Antonio since you were fifteen, really ten if you count the bodyguard work for his kid. That shows loyalty. You can handle yourself on the street while keeping enough wits about you to not get caught. Be honest with me, Frank. If you had the money, had the chance, would you go to college and leave this life behind?”
Franky tensed at the question. He’d never allowed himself to ponder college. He’d wanted it. He’d dreamed about it. He’d walked the college campus and pretended he was a student, but he never allowed himself to dream of it becoming a reality. He didn’t intend to work for someone else, but within his limitations. He intended to study everything he could get his hands on at the library. He intended to keep working for Antonio, to outshine the sons. Blood only got you so far. Brains, guts, wits, and determination could get you the rest of the way. With a college degree, Franky wouldn’t be locked into this life. He’d be able to go anywhere, do anything. Not look over his shoulder and take bullets. Not plunge a knife into an old man’s chest. He’d be free.
“The thought has crossed my mind, but I never could scrape together enough for the tuition.”
“What if you could have both?” Franky forgot to be afraid and leery of Costa in that moment. Both? The family and an education? He never thought of the two together. It was always one or the other. His voice was nothing more than a whisper.
“How?”
“It’s on us, kid.” Antonio spoke from the doorway. Franky hadn’t heard him return. This time the blush bloomed being caught talking to Costa.
“There’ll be strings, of course,” Costa said. Franky turned back to him. Antonio moved into the room and took the seat next to Franky.
Strings? Franky could deal with strings. Strings could be broken. Later. After an education. “Okay.”
“You’d have to keep your grades up. You’ll be working for Antonio and me. We’re looking to the future, and you are it. Along with us,” Costa said.
“What about your boys?” Franky addressed the question to Antonio.
“They don’t have what it takes. To be in charge, you have to use your brains. Sal’s got bloodlust. Crap, the kid even scares me the way he can wield a knife. Lil’ Tony doesn’t have a brain cell in his head, let alone two. And Guy is smart but soft. I may be their father, but I can see their flaws just as clearly as the rest of you.” Antonio never hesitated in his assessment of his sons. He was accurate on all accounts.
“And what about your sons?” Frank asked Costa.
Costa laughed before answering. “One’s two, and the other is brand-new. They have some time yet before making their mark. I plan on being at the helm for a while yet, anyway.”
“How will this work?” Frank asked.
“You’ll take your classes, study hard. You’ll spend any free time with both Antonio and me, learning the businesses, the ins and outs. You have a good grasp of the lower rungs, but you still have a lot to learn,” Costa said. Frank believed that.
“I only foresee one problem.” Costa and Antonio looked at him and waited. “My old man.”
“Why do you think he would be a problem?” Costa asked.
Franky hesitated. “He’s tried to ruin any shot I’ve had to better myself. He’s shown up at school drunk and started fights with teachers. He’s tried to mess with my crews on the streets. He’s jealous and drunk and dangerous. He would sniff out any work I was doing for you and try to dip his hand into the till, too. He’s a danger.”
Costa met Antonio’s eyes, passing a silent message. Antonio gave a small nod.
“He, unfortunately, is proving a problem for all of us. It is a fair and accurate assessment of him.” Costa leaned back in his chair, looking Franky in the eyes before speaking. “I suspect at the rate he is going, an accident is going to come his way.”
Franky absorbed the information. This was his moment, his chance, a test to his loyalty. He could put a stop to the accident. He could protect his father in a way that his father never protected him. Or, he could take this chance, show Costa and Antonio he had what it took. That he had the guts to make the tough calls. Even when they were personal.
“That’s too bad for dear old Dad. My mother will be heartbroken. Initially.” Franky made his choice. He wouldn’t lose any sleep over his decision.
“Your mother has life insurance on him. It will be a blessing. After some time, of course,” Costa said.
“You up for the challenge, kid?” Antonio asked.
Frank thought it over. The plus side was easy. College education, learning a business from the top dogs. Having plenty of one-on-one time to ask questions and understand it from all angles. It was a huge opportunity. One he didn’t want to pass up.
The downside was a bit trickier. It would also mean a lifetime of working with Costa. A lifetime of being one step ahead of him. Always having to be smarter. Am I up for it? Franky wondered.
Franky was smart enough to see the writing on the wall. Costa eventually wanted Antonio out. And for Costa, what could be better than training his replacement personally? Franky looked at Antonio’s smiling face and made a decision.
He stood up and reached his hand out for Costa’s, sealing the deal. Costa’s smile told Franky he’d made the right decision. Franky realized if he’d turned him down, there might be two accidents in the family. Antonio slapped him on the back in congratulations.