Killer by Dave Zeltserman Page B

make matters even more pointless, the cemetery Jenny was buried in was in Revere and right in the middle of Lombard’s territory. I wouldn’t put it past them having someone watching Jenny’s gravesite. Maybe when I know my time has run out, I’ll make the trip. For now it wouldn’t be safe for me to go there, and I wasn’t about to commit suicide – at least not yet, and especially not by proxy.

    That night I couldn’t help feeling a heaviness in my chest as I cleaned the office building. I tried listening to music, but my mind kept wandering too much, and I ended up tuning into a talk show. More scandals had broken since I’d been released from prison. The big one that they talked about that night was the recent shooting involving a ball player at a local club. The ball player, who was unhurt, had supposedly been the target for the shooting but a bystander was the one who took a bullet in the neck and was now in critical condition and on life support. The people calling into the talk show were speculating that the ball player had fired shots also, maybe even the one which wounded the bystander. I was quickly fading into yesterday’s news.
    When I walked home later, I tried to stay alert. The streets were empty and I didn’t see any cars. No one was out there looking for me. I pretty much convinced myself that I must’ve been seeing things the other night.
    It was twenty past two by the time I got back to my apartment. I almost called my son, Michael. I wanted to. I had the cell phone out and had keyed in his phone number, but in the end I flipped the phone shut. If I had made the call at that hour all I’d be doing would be giving him and his wife more ammunition to use against me. At least I had enough sense to realize that, and that was mostly why I didn’t make the call, but I guess it was also partly that I hadn’t worked up the nerve yet to do it.

chapter 13
     
    1978
    I’m stocking bottles of gin and vodka when a face from the past walks into the store. Joey Lando. It’s been years since I’ve seen him, not since that day when we worked Ernie Arlosi over for fourteen hundred bucks and Joey ended up ratting me out to DiGrassi. I almost don’t recognize him with how much fleshier he’s gotten and the thick white scar running from his eye to his chin. The scar makes his flesh look uneven, almost as if he’s wearing a piece of leather over part of his face. When he spots me a wide grin stretches his lips and there’s no mistaking him.
    He eyes me up and down, smirking, then walks over. It’s a fluke that he catches me while I’m actually doing work. Every once in a while, I get restless and stock merchandise or handle the cash register or some other menial task. Mostly when I’m there I hang out in the backroom reading racing forms or magazines. It’s lucky Joey walks in when he does; it helps convince him I’m just a blue-collar working stiff.
    “I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes,” he says, still grinning his half-smirk. “Fuck, I thought they were just bullshit rumors. Lenny March working an honest job. Don’t tell me it’s true about you having a wife and kids also?”
    “Yeah, it’s true.” I look past him to make sure no one’s standing nearby. “I never thought I’d see your face again. Not after you ratting me out to Vincent DiGrassi.”
    “His boys give you a good beating, huh?”
    “Yeah, I’d say so.”
    Joey points to the small circle of red puckered skin on my cheek. “You get that from him?”
    I nod. “It was part of a test to see if I was a rat. I passed, I guess you and Steve didn’t.”
    Joey’s eyes dull a bit. He’s still grinning but it’s forced now. “I always regretted that,” he says. “But you don’t know what they were doing to us to make us talk.” He runs a thumb over the full length of his scar. “And besides, you got off easy compared to Steve and me.”
    I soften as I look at him and remember the old days when