Vendetta Trail (9 page)

IT WAS DARK.

The soft cooing of the pigeons and the fluttering of their wings seeped into Rachel’s consciousness.

She felt a little chilly and wished she had put the window down, but didn’t want to get out of bed to do it. She reached for the sheet and pulled it up over her shoulders.

The sheet was wet and sticky. What was it? What had she spilled on her bed?

Rachel opened her eyes and saw the pigeons eating bread from the ground.

What was bread doing on the ground?

She turned her head and stared directly into the face of Fancy, who was staring back at her. Fancy’s once-beautiful brown eyes were open, opaque, and sightless.

Suddenly Rachel realized where she was! She remembered, also, the screams, the shouts, the gunshots, and the blood.

“Oh my God!” she said in a quiet sob.

The sheet she had pulled over her shoulders was the table
cloth; the wet stickiness she had been feeling was blood. Recoiling in horror, she pushed the tablecloth away.

Rachel wanted more than anything in the world to scream, but she fought hard to hold it back. What if the people who did this were still here? Would they be coming for her now?

Rachel wasn’t really hurt, except for a bump and a very tender spot on her head. She was lying under the table and had evidently been knocked out by it when it overturned. The fact that she was covered by the table—and unconscious—probably saved her life, because the shooters thought she was already dead.

Slowly and carefully, Rachel got to her feet, then looked around. She counted eight bodies, including Fancy, De Luca, Provenzano, Guido, Luigi, and Pietro. She realized then that Pietro, as much as the table, was responsible for her still being alive, because he had pushed her to the ground when the firing started.

If only there had been someone to do the same thing for Fancy.

“Oh, Fancy,” she said. A lump came to her throat and tears filled her eyes. She crawled over to Fancy and then reached out to close her eyes.

“They’re in the back,” a voice said.

Someone was coming and for a moment Rachel was glad. She started to call out to them, then she checked the impulse. What if they were the same people who had done this? What if they were coming back to finish the job?

She had to get out of here!

Getting to her feet, Rachel moved quickly to the side of the garden where she managed to step behind a sculptured piece of shrubbery just before the visitors arrived.

Rachel peeked through the shrubbery and saw a golden
bubble of light as two men appeared around the corner of the house. One of the men was carrying a lighted lantern, the other was carrying a gun.

“The first thing we need to do is get the two women out of here,” the one with the gun said. “When the police find De Luca and the others back here, the newspaper will just report that it was a bunch of Sicilians having it out with each other and they’ll say good riddance. But if they find a couple of women among the dead, there will be hell to pay.”

“The women were whores,” the other man said. As they came closer, the light of the lantern enabled Rachel to get a good look at them. She recognized them both. One was Joe Tangeleno, the other was Sal Vizzini.

“I don’t care if they’re whores or not, they’re women,” Tangeleno said. “If it is discovered that we killed a couple of women, we’re going to get a lot of bad reaction from the…” Tangeleno started, then he stopped in midsentence and pointed to one of the bodies. “What in the hell? Is that Hennesy, the police commissioner?”

“Yes,” Vizzini said.

“
Madre di Dio!
You killed the police commissioner?” Tangeleno asked in an angry voice. “What the hell were you thinking of, Vizzini? Were you out of your mind?”

“What could we do, Don Tangeleno?” Vizzini asked defensively. “He happened to be here when we showed up. We couldn’t just say, ‘Sorry, my mistake.’ Besides, the son of a bitch was being paid off by De Luca. He was one of De Luca’s men, no different from Provenzano, or Guido, or Fanchetti, or any of them.”

“Maybe so, but this isn’t good,” Tangeleno said, running his hand through his hair. “This isn’t good at all. Once word gets out that we killed a police commissioner…the city will
do whatever it takes to put us out of business. If they have to, they will form a militia to stop us.”

“He was not an honest policeman,” Vizzini said. “Hell, everybody knows that.”

“Do you think that will matter to the people in town?”

“You know none of our people will talk. Everyone is sworn to the code of
omerta.
”

“If the body is found here, no one will have to talk. The police aren’t dumb. We have to get him out of here. Take him out when we get the two women out of here.”

“What will we do with them?”

“Take them down to the river and dump them. The current will take the bodies out into the Gulf,” Tangeleno said.

“All right,” Vizzini agreed.

Tangeleno continued to walk through the bodies, looking down at them. He rolled De Luca’s body over with his foot.

“Yes, here he is. The
bastardo
I was looking for,” Tangeleno said in a snarling voice.

“Is that De Luca?” Vizzini asked.

“Yes.” Tangeleno stared down at the body. “You killed my friend and sent his head to me. Now you are in hell.”

Tangeleno put his thumb in his own eye, then jerked it away pointedly.

“Un occhio per un occhio!”
he said with a sneer. “An eye for an eye.”

“Don Tangeleno,” Vizzini said. “One of them is missing.”

“One of who is missing?”

“One of the women. There were two women here. Now there is only one.”

“Are you sure there were two?”

“Yes.”

“And you are sure they were both dead?”

“Yes,” Vizzini said.

“So what are you saying, that a dead body just got up and
walked away? Because nobody would come here and remove just one body.”

“I think she was dead,” Vizzini said.

“You
think
she was dead?” Tangeleno said, his voice clearly showing his irritation.

“The last time I saw her she was lying right there.” He pointed to where Rachel had been.

“Who was the woman? Do you know her name?”

“Yes, I know both their names. The colored girl”—he pointed to Fancy—“was called Fancy. I don’t know if that was really her name.”

“It doesn’t make any difference what her name is,
stupido
. She is dead and she is here. What is the other woman’s name? Is she colored too?”

“No, she’s white. Her name is Rachel.”

“What is her last name?”

Vizzini shook his head. “I don’t think whores have last names.”

“Of course whores have last names,
lei l’idiota!
” Tangeleno said angrily.

“I don’t know her last name.”

“If she is still alive she is very dangerous to us, because she is a witness,” Tangeleno said. “Not only to this”—he took in all the bodies with a wave of his hand—“but she also saw us kill the police commissioner.”

“That’s not good,” Vizzini said.

“You said she is a whore. Where does she whore?”

“Yes!” Vizzini said, hitting his hand into his fist. “That’s where she is. She works at the House of the Evening Star. I’m sure that’s where she went. She has no other place to go.”

“We must find her.”

“You want me to bring her to you?”

“No. I am going with you. We can’t afford anymore mistakes.”

“All right.”

“Call Benito and Umberto back here now. Have them take away the police commissioner and the colored girl.”

“Do you think the citizens of New Orleans are going to be upset over a dead colored whore?” Vizzini asked.

“Just get her out of here,” Tangeleno said.

“All right.”

Rachel continued to watch from her vantage point behind the shrubbery. Tangeleno stayed back while Vizzini left. Tangeleno walked over to De Luca’s body and stared down at it.

“
Io piscio su Lei per Nick Morello, Lei il bastardo!
he said angrily. “I piss on you for Nick Morello.”

Then, unbuttoning his pants, Tangeleno peed on De Luca’s body.

Tangeleno was just rebuttoning his trousers when Vizzini showed up with Benito and Umberto. Vizzini pointed to Fancy and to the police commissioner.

“That one and that one,” Vizzini said.

The two men made no response, but effortlessly scooped up the two bodies and draped them across their shoulders. Then all four men left.

Rachel remained behind the shrub for at least five more minutes, until she was completely satisfied that Tangeleno and Vizzini weren’t coming back.

She had to get out of here. In fact, she had to get out of New Orleans. But how was she going to do that? She couldn’t go back to the House of the Evening Star. They would be waiting for her there. On the other hand, if she didn’t go back to her room, she would have no money, no clothes, no way to…wait a minute!

Rachel thought about the money De Luca had put into his jacket pocket. Was it still there? And if so, how much was there? Was there enough money to allow her to get out of New Orleans?

A nearly full moon provided enough light to allow her to pick her way through the carnage until she reached De Luca’s body. Fortunately, Tangeleno had already turned him over. She was glad he had done that. It was going to be hard enough to look into his jacket pocket. It would have been even harder to actually touch him.

Steeling herself, Rachel knelt beside him and stared into his face. His face was still wet, and smelled of urine. One eye was half-closed, the other was fully open. There was a bullet hole in his neck and another in his left cheek. Both bullet holes were black and ugly-looking.

She opened his jacket and stuck her hand down into the inside pocket. Feeling the envelope, she pulled it out.

“Please let there be enough money to buy a railroad ticket out of here,” she said aloud in a quiet prayer.

Rachel removed the money from the envelope, then gasped when she saw it. As De Luca said, the bills were all federal bills, which meant they were legal tender anywhere in America. And they were all one hundred dollar bills. She was absolutely certain there were at least twenty-five of them.

She was holding twenty-five hundred-dollar bills: $2,500!

For a moment she felt dizzy over her fantastic luck. She had wanted enough money to be able to get out of town, but she had no idea she would get this much money.

Then she felt guilty. She could justify taking enough money to escape. But how could she justify this?

Wait a minute. What was she thinking about? Who was she taking it from? De Luca was going to give it to the police officer, but neither of them had a use for it now. And she couldn’t see letting it fall into the hands of the men who did all this.

Clutching the money, Rachel stood up. She adjusted her gown, then saw some blood on her dress. It was black in the moonlight and somehow that made it even more ghastly-looking than if it had been red.

She wished she could go back to the Evening Star to pack and change clothes, but that was impossible. Blood or no blood on her dress, she had to get out of town right now, but where would she go? What would she do?

“Louise!” Rachel said aloud. She would go west to see Louise. She could get a fresh start there.

Oh, if only this had happened yesterday, she thought. Then she could have left on the same boat that Mason Hawke left on. She would feel safe if she was traveling with him. She knew that he was just a piano player…but somehow she thought he was more than that.

Wait a minute. It’s not too late. Trains travel much faster than riverboats. She could take a train north, upriver, then join the boat.

Straightening up her dress and combing her hair, she made herself as presentable as possible, then left.

Before going to the depot, Rachel stopped by the riverboat terminal to study the schedules of all the riverboats going north. It was just as she thought. It would be quite easy for her to overtake the
Delta Mist.
That would allow her to join Mason Hawke. He wasn’t expecting her, of course, but she was sure that he would help her…for old times’ sake—if for no other reason.

“One hundred dollars?” the railroad ticket agent asked in surprise. He studied the bill Rachel had given him.

“Yes, is there anything wrong? I was assured by the bank that this is a federal note and would be legal tender anywhere.”

“No, there’s nothing wrong. It is just that I don’t see very many bills this large.”

“I am going to be doing some traveling,” Rachel said. “And I thought it might be easier to have my money converted into a few large bills.”

“Very well, a ticket to Memphis,” the ticket agent said. He
picked up a lead ink stamp and began stamping on the tickets. Then he handed the tickets to Rachel.

“Thank you.”

“That’ll be nine dollars,” the ticket agent said. “You’ll change trains in Jackson, Mississippi. I’ll get a porter for your luggage.”

“That’s all right.”

“It’s no problem, madam. It’s what they are here for.”

“I…uh…don’t have any luggage,” Rachel admitted.

The ticket agent looked surprised. “You have no luggage?”

“No, I, uh, will be buying all new things when I get to Memphis.”

The ticket agent looked at her as if he didn’t believe her. Then he saw the blood on her dress.

Rachel saw that he was looking at the blood and, self-consciously, she put her hand over it.

“Are you all right, miss?”

Rachel laughed, nervously. “I had a nosebleed.”

The blood was on her skirt.

“A nosebleed?”

“Yes,” Rachel said pointedly. “It happens frequently. Do you know if the train is on time?” she asked, changing the subject.

“As far as I know, it is on time.”

“Thank you.”

“YOU’VE GOT SOME NERVE COMING BACK HERE,”
Clarisse said to Vizzini when he and Tangeleno showed up at the House of the Evening Star. “Well, you are wasting your time. Evangeline doesn’t want to see you anymore.”

“I don’t care anything about that bitch,” Vizzini said. “Where is Rachel?”

“Rachel? If Evangeline won’t see you, what makes you think that Rachel will? Anyway, Rachel has an engagement this evening.”

“Get her,” Vizzini said in a menacing voice.

“I can’t get her. I told you, she isn’t here. She is keeping an appointment elsewhere tonight.”

“Where is her room?” Tangeleno said.

“It’s upstairs.”

“All the whores’ rooms are upstairs,” Tangeleno said, gruffly. “Which room is hers?”

“It’s the first room on the right when you reach the top of the stairs, but I told you…”

Even as Clarisse was talking to them, Tangeleno and Vizzini pushed by her and started up the stairs, doing it so
quickly that they forced a customer who was coming downstairs into the wall.

“Hey, who do you think…” the customer started to say, but Vizzini turned around quickly with a gun in his hand.

“You have something to say?” Vizzini asked.

“No no,” the man replied quickly. “I don’t have anything to say.”

“I didn’t think so.”

When they reached Rachel’s room, Tangeleno tried the door, but it was locked. Stepping back from the door, he kicked it hard, right beside the doorknob. The door popped open.

“Hey! What’s going on out there?” a man’s voice shouted from inside one of the rooms.

“Don’t you worry about it,” Vizzini said. Then he shouted down the hall for everyone to hear. “You men just stay in bed with your whores. If anybody sticks their head out into the hall, I’m going to blow it off!”

By now Clarisse was at the top of the stairs, having followed the two of them up.

“Why did you do that? I told you she wasn’t here,” Clarisse said angrily. She pointed to the door. “Somebody is going to have to pay for that door.”

Tangeleno pulled some money from his pocket and handed it to Clarisse. “Will this cover it?” he asked.

Clarisse looked at the money. There were several twenty-dollar bills.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I believe this will cover it.”

“Light the lantern,” Tangeleno said. “Let’s have a look around.”

Vizzini lit the lantern that sat on the dresser in Rachel’s room.

“What is all this about?” Clarisse asked. “What are you doing in Rachel’s room? What are you looking for?”

“What is Rachel’s last name?” Tangeleno asked.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? She works here, doesn’t she? Isn’t she one of your girls? How long has she been here?”

“Not very long,” Clarisse said. She was growing more cautious and circumspect with her answers now, because she didn’t know what all this was about.

“I know she’s been here over a year,” Vizzini said as he looked through things on her dresser. “Because I have been seeing her here for that long.”

“She’s been here for over a year and you don’t know her last name?” Tangeleno asked.

“I never ask any of my girls for their last name,” Clarisse replied. “Most of them only stay for a short while, then they go on to other lives. When they do that, they don’t like for their past to catch up with them.”

“Don Tangeleno, look at this,” Vizzini said, taking a packet of letters from a little rosewood box. He handed the packet of letters to Tangeleno.

“What are you doing? Those are Rachel’s private letters!” Clarisse said, reaching for them. “You have no right to look at…”

Clarisse’s proetest was cut off when Tangeleno brought the back of his hand across her cheek, driving her back onto Rachel’s bed. Clarisse sat down, hard, and held her hand to a cheek that was already beginning to show a bruise.

“Who is Louise Smalley?” Tangeleno asked as he looked at the letters.

Clarisse didn’t answer. Instead, she sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the two men with eyes that showed not only her anger but were now welling with tears.

Tangeleno drew his hand back as if ready to hit her again. “I asked you a question,” he said. “Who is Louise?”

“Louise used to work here,” Clarisse answered in a frightened voice. “She was Rachel’s friend.”

Tangeleno looked through all the letters. “What is this? No letters from her family?”

“The only family Rachel has is Fancy.”

“Fancy?” Vizzini asked. “What do you mean, she is the only family?”

“Fancy is Rachel’s sister. But Fancy isn’t here either.”

“What are you trying to tell me?” Vizzini asked. “Fancy is colored.”

“She is only half-colored,” Clarisse said. “She and Rachel shared the same father.”

Vizzini laughed out loud. “Well, I’ll be damned. So her daddy liked the ladies who had a touch of the brush, did he?”

“Fancy is her only blood relative, but I like to think that we are all her family here. And if she is in trouble, any one of us would do whatever we can to help her.”

“Anyone would do anything to help her?” Tangeleno asked. He held up the letters. “How about this woman? Do you think she would also do anything to help Rachel?”

“Yes, of course she would. Louise is married now, but I do believe she would help if she were needed. We are all very close here. Now please tell me what this is all about.”

“Nothing,” Tangeleno said, putting the letter with the latest date into his pocket. “Nothing at all. I’m sorry we bothered you. Come on, Vizzini. Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Vizzini asked.

“If you were going to go to Kansas, how would you go?”

“By train.”

“Where do you find trains?”

Vizzini smiled. “At the railroad station,” he said.