Wiseguys In Love (15 page)

What a gift he'd gotten from her. He was off the hook.

“What have I done?” she repeated, and he suddenly focused in on her. She was riveted to the body, and shaking, and he realized that she was going to lose it.

“Oh
my
God! Oh my
God!
” Her eyes were stuck on the body and her neck seemed to have been bolted into place, so she could look neither up, nor down, nor sideways. And there was this shouting feeling of panic across her torso as the hair on her head seemed to stand on end, and the bloody face of the body began mixing itself with the last image she had had of his face as he lunged at her. Of his eyes and nose and face, when he was a living human being. And the face was coming closer and closer and she again saw him lunging at her and his voice saying, “Give it to me NOW.” “GIVE IT TO ME NOW” boomed over her like a thunderstorm and Lisa suddenly felt herself put her hands over her ears as though to block him out, and she heard the echoes of her own screams desperately trying to drown out the sounds of the man inside her own head. My God, I
shot
and
killed
another human being! Good God Almighty. “I took someone's life,” she heard herself screaming.

Tony ran over to her.

“We gotta get her out of here,” he ordered.

Tony took one arm and Michael took the other. They carried her, still screaming, down and out of the building. Tony exhaled as they stood on the street, with her screams echoing off the empty buildings. He dropped his keys, spun around, and gave her a wallop with the back of his hand.

Lisa grabbed her cheek with the side of her hand and stared at him.

“Shut the fuck up! Whatta you makin' a fuckin' big deal outta nothin', fahcrissakes?”

He opened the car and unlocked the doors.

Tony got in front and Michael took his usual position next to her. She slid down in the seat, holding her stomach as Tony started the car.

“Anybody hungry?” Tony asked after a moment.

They both stared at him incredulously. He turned back and put the car into first, and drove to the corner.

“I gotta get something to eat. Let's see if Forlini's is open, huh, Mikey?”

“I don't know, Tony. I don't know if I could eat right now.”

Tony grunted and then looked back over his shoulder at Michigan.

“What about you? You hungry, Michigan?”

“Aw God, I think I'm going to be sick,” she said, and covered her mouth with one hand.

“Well
I
'm hungry here, so I'm taking us down to Forlini's,” Tony said forcefully, and began to drive up the ramp to the Brooklyn Bridge.

“And after I get something in my stomach, we can decide what to do,” he added.

“Do about what?”

“What to tell Solly.”

“Solly?” Michael asked, leaning forward. “What do you mean? We did it. We got his money, and … did it. All we have to do is go there and pick up the bonus.”

Tony got onto the bridge as Lisa sat up and stared grimly at the bright city lights.

“Now, Mikey, that ain't exactly true.”

“What are you talking about, Tony?”

“Well, we got the money to give him when we go there, but the rest of it, it din't go down the way Solly wanted,” Tony said quietly. “You can't pick up that bonus, Mikey, it ain't fair.”

“What?”

“Well, Mikey, Michigan was the one did him. That fourteen should be hers, and we gotta tell Solly, so he can give you something else to do to make your bones.”

Michael fell back in his seat and darted a glance over at Michigan.

She was Jell-O.

He stared back up at Tony.

“You can't tell him that some girl we picked up did the hit for him,” Michael began. “He'd…” Michael's voice trailed off.

“But he owes Michigan the money. She done the hit—she get the payment.”

“Tony, this is crazy. You can't tell him what really happened.…”

“You want me to
lie?
Lie to Solly?” His voice was booming with indignation. “I can't do that, Mikey. Besides, you gotta do something real to make your bones. That's what it's all about. He gotta get something on you, see? That way, you gotta be loyal to the family or it's your ass, and you ain't done nothin'.”

“I was in on a murder,” he offered.

“Yeah, but that don't count. You gotta pull the trigger.”

“You're all confused.”

“I ain't confused, Mikey. You're the one confused. Solly owes Michigan fourteen bills for the hit and you ain't made your bones.”

Michael sat back again and stared down at her. She didn't seem to be moving or listening at all. What could he say?

“But she wouldn't have done it if we hadn't brought her there, would she?”

Tony was silent for a moment, and Michael could feel him twisting his face up into his painful thinking expression. The truth was, he didn't give a damn about the money, but he didn't want to be there when Solly was told, and he certainly didn't want to be given
another
task. This one was enough.

He pulled the car down the ramp and headed over to Little Italy.

“We discuss it over dinner at the restaurant,” he said finally.

Lisa closed her eyes and the horrible sight of the man lying there came into her head, as if it was on instant rewind on a VCR. She had stopped screaming, that was true. After Tony's slap, this eerie numbness had overtaken her. She opened her eyes again, wondering how long the sight was going to stay with her. Would she always see the body?

Guilt began to gnaw at her. She'd just left some poor man lying in a pool of blood, and the only thing she could think of was when would the picture in her mind fade.

She thought about going back home to Bliss, Michigan. And she thought about church. In all her years at the end of the sermons, when they were supposed to reflect upon their sins, like an unspoken confession, just about the worst she'd ever come up with was sleeping with some guy or cheating on her tax return. That was enough for the Presbyterians to sentence her to eternal hell.

She could hear it now: “I lived with a man for four years in an unmarried state and I shot some guy to death in an office in Brooklyn.”

She couldn't imagine where she'd get sent for murder, and she didn't want to know.

And then the thought occurred to her that it didn't matter anyway, because she was never going to see Bliss again.

This had all just gone far enough. The fact was that she should have called the police back, or at least someone
else
in the police department. There must have been someone out there who would have taken her seriously. I could handle this: The pious thought she had had echoed in her head. Who had she been kidding? These guys had guns. But had she even thought about that? Had she even considered it? No! Instead, she just went off on some fantasy. She was reprimanding herself, and then it settled in her head; it was enough. This all was going to end right now.

She cleared her throat. Michael looked over at her. She looked at him with an odd expression.

“You can drop me at the police station.”

“What?” he said.

“I didn't hear that. What she want?” Tony asked.

“Drop me at a police station. I'm going to turn myself in.”

Lisa was thrown against Michael as Tony veered the car onto the sidewalk and slammed on the brakes. As she pushed Michael off, Tony turned around, switched on the overhead light, and stared at her like she was from outer space.

“What you say?”

“I'm going to turn myself in.”

“Fahcrissakes, why?” Tony asked, obviously mystified.

She stared back at him with the same incredulous expression. “I just killed a man.”

“Yeah…” Tony said, waiting for her to continue.

“I just
killed
someone.”

Tony blinked.

“I can't do this anymore. I don't want to cause any more pain than I have. I don't want to have the police looking for me. I just want to turn myself in.”

“Mikey, help me on this,” Tony said, staring at him.

Michael looked over at her and finally cleared his voice. “Don't you think it was self-defense?” he offered weakly.

“Aw-what?” Tony groaned and stared at him, then turned back to Michigan. “Look, honey, you got him fair and square. You done good. He was nothin' but a no-good thief—”

“I shot him—”

“Yeah, yeah, like I said, you done good. Now you can't turn yourself
in
to the cops. You'd insult them. And you'd set a bad example. They wouldn't know what to do wid youse,
capisce?
”

“No,” she said after a moment.

“Aw Christ, don't you understand nothin'? Look, their job is to catch you, right?”

“Yeah—”

“That's how they feed their families, see?”

She nodded and glanced at Michael, confused. He shrugged, and they both looked back to Tony, whose face was all tied up into an expression that could only be described as agony.

“So what happens to their families if everybody who did somethin' turned themselves in, huh? They'd be out jobs. Their kids would starve; they'd have to move out to the country. It would be a mess. Plus, if you just turn yourself in, it'd be like you didn't think they was smart enough to catch you on their own, see? So now, you got 'em unemployed, and
insulted
'cause you gonna turn yourself in for killin' a rat-bastard thief?” Tony shook his head at her.

“I…” she murmured. “I didn't think…” Her voice trailed off. Michael sat silent, trying to run through Tony's logic.

Tony turned back around front and pulled the car back into the street.

“Well, we all can't think of everything, right, Mikey? As long as you got it straight now. Jeez, turn yourself in … that's crazy. You know how many of them guys would be unemployed in this city? Must be a hundred thousand of 'em.”

He muttered to himself, shaking his head, and turned the car down to Hester Street and parked. He swung himself out, walked around, and opened the door for Michigan. She darted a glance at Michael and allowed Tony to help her out of the car. Michael walked behind them, watching Tony carefully.

“You like braciola?”

“I don't know what it is,” she said, confused, and suddenly she felt very tired. Michael grimaced as Tony put his arm through hers as they walked down the small, winding street toward Forlini's.

“They don't have braciola where you come from? Jeez. What do youse people eat up there in Canada?”

They walked along to the restaurant, Tony almost holding Lisa up and Michael walking silently behind.

Tony pulled a chair out for Michigan and made sure she was comfortable. Michael watched him intensely. There was something brewing in Tony's mind about her. It was something that Michael was not too thrilled with.

“You want a nice antipast'?” he asked, smiling at her.

“I really don't think I could—”

“You'll feel better if you eat. I'll order a hot and a cold for youse to try.”

“Tony, I don't think she's hungry—” Michael began, but he was cut off by Tony's glare.

“Don't you gotta call your mother?” Tony asked, leaning forward.

“What?”

“Wasn't your mother makin'
trota
for youse?”

“Yeah…”

“Jeez, ain't you got no manners? I told her I'd have you home early,” Tony said, motioning with his head that he wanted Michael to leave the table.

Michael glanced at Michigan, who moved her head ever so slightly and looked panicked, as though if he left her alone with Tony, she would die.

“Mikey, call you mother,” Tony ordered. “It's ten o'clock at night.”

Michael shrugged and stood up. Lisa watched, terrified, as he walked away. Tony looked back at her and smiled.

“You got good aim. Where you say you come from?” he asked softly, smiling at her.

*   *   *

Michael went over to the maître d' and asked for the phones. He was directed to the small entryway. He stood in front of a phone and looked at his watch. Through the plate-glass doorway, he could see Michigan and Tony at the table. He watched the waiter bring over two glasses of what he knew was cola. He stared at Tony, who was talking and smiling at her.

That was all he needed. He walked back inside the restaurant and over to the table. He leaned down and looked at Tony.

“My mother wants to talk to you,” he said quietly.

Tony looked up, stunned. “Your mother wants to talk to me? What I do?” Tony stood up and looked at Michigan. “Youse don't go anywhere. We'll be right over there,” he said, pointing to the phone.

They walked back out to the entryway. Before he could stop him, Tony had picked up the receiver.

“They ain't nobody on the other end,” Tony said, hanging up the phone.

“I just wanted to talk to you. Listen, what are we going to do about Michigan?”

“Whadda you mean? We gonna give Solly the stuff we got from Giuseppe, and, when they discover the body, she'll collect the money and you'll—”

“I'm not doing any more, Tony.”

“What?” he asked, staring at him.

“I'm not making my bones. I can't do it. You saw me back there. I don't belong.”

There was a stunned silence from Tony.

“Aw, he's not gonna like that.”

“Can you fix it?”

Tony's eyes crossed.

“I don't know, Mikey, you know a lot.… I never asked nothin' like this of Solly before.”

Michael stood silently.

“Maybe you're being too hard on yourself,” Tony offered. “Maybe you just need some practice.”

Michael shook his head.

“I thought you liked ridin' wid me,” Tony said after a moment.