“When did you get this call?” Mick asked.

  “I got it today. That’s the crazy part. I’m out chillin’, doing my own thing, and I’m told to get some guys together and get over to Monk’s place. I say he lives in a fucking fortress. What I wanna go there for? But I’m told it’s okay. That I should be able to get in and get back out. That it ain’t no fortress. And that’s when they give me the background and the rest of it. So I round up a couple guys, and we go handle that shit.”

  “You mentioned Checky Lonza and you mentioned Maine,” Monk said. “What you know about that?”

  “I was told there was an ambush at a dry cleaners, and Checky Lonza’s name was mentioned. I don’t remember the details. But I was told that ambush didn’t pan out. You survived it was the impression I got he meant. And he said there was some attempted hit on your girlfriend while she was in Maine that didn’t go right either. Whoever he hired was supposed to take her out, but they tried to rape her, instead, and then you showed up. So that didn’t pan out either. So now it was my shot.”

  Monk was stunned. It was all connected? Checky Lonza was a part of this, and those fools in Jericho too? Somebody paid Checky to lose Monk’s cargo, and somebody paid those boys in Jericho to take Ashley out? Monk was inwardly horrified.

  But he knew he had to get that name. Who was the person? Who was pulling the strings? “Who hired you, Too Tall?” Monk asked him.

  Too Tall didn’t hesitate. He was all in already, which was why Monk didn’t ask him for a name off the bat. “Bonaducci,” Too Tall said.

  Everybody in the SUV looked at Too Tall. Even the driver looked at him through the rearview.

  “What did you say?” Monk asked him, his face in a fixed frown.

  “I said Bonaducci hired me.”

  “What Bonaducci?” Monk asked.

  “Your Bonaducci,” Too Tall said. “The Don. Who else?”

  Monk frowned. “You’re a lying motherfucker!”

  “I’m not lying though!” Too Tall said. “He hired me to handle that shit.”

  “Why would my own godfather want to take me out, and my girl out? Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “I’m telling you the truth, Frankie! That’s what he wanted me to do. That’s what he said they tried to do at that dry cleaners, and what they tried to do in Maine.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Monk said.

  “Hear him out,” said Mick.

  “But he’s talking about the Don was behind this shit?” Monk said angrily to Mick. “Did you hear him? He’s implicating my own godfather!”

  “You implicated your own father,” Mick responded. “What’s the damn difference?”

  But Monk was still unable to even entertain the thought that the Don was involved. He gave Too Tall a harsh look. “You expect me to believe that after the Don was laying up in a hospital room with two bullets in his old-ass body, he decides to give you a call?”

  “His people did, yes.”

  “What people?” Monk asked.

  “His people,” Too Tall said. “One of his assistants. I don’t know which one! But he called me and said Don Bonaducci needs a favor. I heard about the hit. Word was just getting around. So I figured it was about that.”

  “That could have been anybody,” Teddy said. “How do you know it was the Don?”

  “It was him. At least it was one of his people inside his camp.”

  “But how do you know that?” Teddy asked. “Somebody calls and says the Don needs a favor, and you just drop everything and do it?”

  “Fuck no,” said Too Tall. “They paid me half up front. I told them where to leave the money. One of my guys went and collected it. And so me and my other guys went and handled the job so that we could collect the rest.”

  “Did you collect the rest?”

  “Fuck no. We didn’t take out the girl. But at least we got half of it up front.”

  “This some bullshit,” Monk said. “Bonaducci was in the hospital fighting for his life!”

  “Graze wounds,” Mick said.

  Monk and Teddy looked at him. “What do you mean, Pop?” Teddy asked him.

  “He wasn’t fighting for shit,” Mick said. “Those bullets barely grazed his skin. His ass old, so that might be an issue. But he was able to handle business if business was what he wanted to handle.”

  “Thank you!” Too Tall declared.

  “Fuck you!” declared Mick. “Shut the fuck up!”

  Teddy looked at Too Tall. “How were you going to get in touch with the Don to let him know you finished the job, if you had finished it?”

  “He gave me a throw away phone number to call, and he gave me a code word.”

  Monk quickly looked at Too Tall. “You were given a code word?”

  “That’s right,” said Too Tall.

  “What was the word?” asked Mick.

  “Migraine. The guy I was dealing with said whenever I called back, I had to know the code word in order for them to know it was me. So they told me to use the word migraine.”

  Mick and Teddy looked at Monk. Monk was nodding his head. “That’s the code,” he said. “We’re given a new one every week.”

  “And they contacted you after the hit at the Bonaducci’s house?” Teddy asked Too Tall.

  “That’s when they contacted me, yes,” replied Too Tall.

  Teddy looked at Monk. “It’s as if they believed you were behind that hit at the house,” he said.

  “That’s what I’m thinking too,” said Mick.

  “That’s bullshit though,” said Monk. “Why would I take the Don out? He just put me in charge. Why would I do it?”

  “Maybe your old man wanted it to look that way,” Teddy said. “Maybe your old man was the one behind hiring Too Tall, and he was doing it in the Don’s name.”

  “He would know that code word, too,” Mick said.

  But Monk was shaking his head. “He wouldn’t,” Monk said. “Only the Don and me knew that code.”

  “Why not Raymond?” Mick asked. “Up until yesterday, he was in charge.”

  “Yeah, but the Don had lost confidence in him weeks ago. He pulled him out of the loop weeks ago. Pop didn’t know it, but he was given a separate code in case shit went down, we would be able to trace it to him without all of the drama we usually had to go through to find out. That code, migraine, was only known by me, and Don Bonaducci. If Too Tall was given that name, it had to be given either by me, or by the Don.”

  “Which means,” Teddy said, “it had to be given by the Don.”

  “Told you I wasn’t lying,” Too Tall said. “I told you!”

  That made it real for everybody in that car.

  Monk looked at Too Tall. “I want names of the other people who was at my house with you today,” he said.

  “Fuck that,” Too Tall said. “You know I ain’t no snitch.”

  Teddy laughed. “You’ve been snitching since we picked up your ass.” Then he frowned. “What are you talking?!”

  “Give me names,” Monk said.

  But Too Tall was shaking his head. “I can’t do that.”

  Monk jumped out of his seat, grabbed Too Tall by his shirt and placed the blade of a knife he had pulled out to Too Tall’s neck. “Give me names, motherfucker!” Monk ordered.

  And Too Tall, remembering the last time he had an encounter with Monk, gave up the names easily.

  Monk knew each name given. And he was satisfied Too Tall wasn’t lying. “Stop here,” he ordered the driver.

  The driver pulled over on the side of the road. It wasn’t a busy road, but it wasn’t deserted either.

  “Get out,” Monk said to Too Tall.

  Too Tall was confused. “You’re letting me go?” he asked him.

  “Yeah. Why not? No harm, no foul, right?”

  Too Tall, elated, smiled. “Right,” he said. Then he opened the door and got out quickly, even as the pain intensified as soon as his feet touched down.

  Monk pulled out his gun, as soon as Too Tall hopped out, and shot him repeatedly. Bullet after bullet he fired, with Too Tall’s eyes wide open in shock, until he dropped dead.

  Then Monk closed the door, leaned back, and the Escalade sped away.

  But nobody was satisfied. Because it wasn’t settled. Because, if Too Tall was telling the truth, Don Bonaducci, Monk’s very own godfather and mentor, was playing some game with Monk. What game, even Mick didn’t know. They only knew it was a deadly game.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The front door opened and Monk, Mick, and Ted walked in. Charles was on the sofa on his cellphone, talking to Jenay, while Ashley was on the sofa, asleep, leaned against her father.

  “Okay, hon, they’re just walking in,” Charles said to Jenay over his cellphone. “I’ll see what’s what and call you back. As soon as I hear. Yup. Love you too,” he said, and then ended the call.

  “How did it go?” Charles immediately asked them.

  “It went,” Monk said.

  Ashley woke up when she heard Monk’s voice. When she saw that he was back home, she jumped up and ran to him. “Are you okay?” she anxiously asked him.

  “I’m okay,” he said, as she fell into his arms. He shut his eyes tight as he held her. Charles glanced at Mick. Even he could tell something went wrong.

  Ashley leaned back and looked at Monk again. “Sure you’re okay?” she asked. She could see it too.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” Monk said, attempting to smile it off.

  Teddy was concerned for his friend. To hear news that his own godfather, the man who had just appointed him to head his syndicate, might have been playing him for who-knows-what, had to hurt. “What are you going to do, Monk?” he asked him.

  Monk looked at Teddy with eyes that had grown even wearier than they usually were. “Sleep on it,” he said. It was nearing midnight. It made sense.

  Teddy nodded, and then Monk took Ashley’s hand, and they headed out of the room.

  “What happened?” Charles asked as soon as they walked out.

  But Mick nor Teddy were quick to tell. They were still reeling too. Betrayal was one thing. It came with the territory in their line of work. But if what Too Tall said was true, and Bonaducci was the man behind the curtain, that would be a monumental betrayal the likes of which even they couldn’t fathom. They had to settle down too.

  Later, after Monk and Ashley were naked in bed, he was lying on his back looking upward. Ashley was lying on her side staring at him. She knew he had a story to tell, and she was anxious to hear it. But she also knew he needed her to be patient with him.

  And she was.

  And then he told.

  “The guy we went to see said something that kind of threw me for a loop,” Monk said.

  Ashley looked at him. “What did he say?”

  “He said a certain guy paid him to do what we call a tease hit because they failed to kill you in Jericho, and they failed to take me out at an ambush at a dry cleaners in Jersey.”

  Ashley sat up on her elbows, her breasts bouncing as she did. “You were in an ambush?” she asked him.

  Monk looked at her. Didn’t she hear him? Those fools in Jericho tried to kill her, and all she heard was that he was ambushed? “Something like that, yeah,” he said. “But didn’t you hear me? Those guys in Jericho, at your store, were paid to take you out, Ash. That wasn’t no random shit. They were paid to kill you.”

  “I heard that. I was there, remember?”

  “You thought it was a rape. That was just them getting in some fun for themselves before they took you out. Now you understand why I had to take them out?”

  “I understood it when you did it,” Ashley said. “I just disagreed with it because I knew Arnie Lectin and he was trying to hit on me the night before.”

  “And you rebuffed him?”

  “Right,” said Ashley.

  “That’s who they use, Ashley. People with an ax to grind.”

  “But I just thought he was trying to get back at me,” Ashley said. “I didn’t think there was any more to it than that.”

  “Now that you’re with me,” Monk said, “you have to always assume it’s going to be more to it than that. You understand me? Always assume that.”

  Ashley nodded. “I will,” she promised. “When were you ambushed?” she asked.

  “Babe, that doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters to me! When were you ambushed, Frankie?”

  “Just before I went back to Jericho a few days ago. It went sideways on me, but that happens all the time. Did I connect the dots? No. Should I have assumed more? Yes.” Then he frowned. “But I never did.”

  “Oh, Frankie! Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “There was nothing to tell. I wasn’t injured at all. It was nothing. The point is, whoever sent those boys to that store that morning, and whoever tried that ambush on me, is not fucking around. I’ve got to find out who it is.”

  “That guy you went to see didn’t help?”

  Monk exhaled. “He helped. If I believe him.”

  ‘Why wouldn’t you believe him? Because he’s a crook?”

  “Because he claimed the man who paid him to shoot up my house was none other than the Don.”

  Ashley was shocked. “The Don? Your Don? Don Bonaducci?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  Ashley stared at Monk. “That can’t be true, right?”

  “Right,” said Monk, but he said it subduedly.

  Ashley, shocked too, laid back down. This time on her back too. “What are you going to do about it?” she asked him.

  Monk continued to just lay there. Then he exhaled. “I’m going to have to ask him about it,” he said. “And then I’ll decide.”

  Ashley looked at him. “What’s wrong, Frankie?”

  “It’s all going south on me, babe. It’s like they put me in charge and the bottom falls out. You should have seen the way some of the guys at Bonaducci’s house looked at me. It was like they were blaming me for that shit. Now we’ve got funerals to plan and . . .”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Frankie,” she said to him.

  “I know it wasn’t,” he said. “But . . . It sure as hell feel like it was.” Then he looked at Ashley. “Usually, I’d be in this bed alone, trying to figure it out all by myself. You don’t know how much it means to me to have somebody pulling with me. Thank you, Ashley,” he said.

  Ashley felt ten-feet tall. No matter what, he always made her feel special.

  Now it was her time. For him.

  She moved off of her back, and got on top of him.

  Monk was ready to hold her. That was why he thought she was on top of him, but he was wrong. She began moving down, to his midsection. When she touched his penis, and then put it in her mouth, he felt every vein in his body come alive. And she began to give to Monk, as he felt she always did, just what he needed most.

  She went all the way down on him, with such love and care, that he came quickly. He didn’t plan on it. But he needed to. He spilled all over her.

  When he was done, she actually went and cleaned him up, and then got back on top of him. She wrapped him into her arms, and he returned the favor.

  She fell asleep in his arms, which made him feel like he could conquer the world.

  But he couldn’t sleep a wink.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  They gathered together in his hospital room as if it was his parlor. Don Bonaducci was holding court in his hospital bed, with Raymond Paletti sitting by his side, and Raymond’s men, from Boozer Rome to Noodles, also in the room. Even the Don knew they were there, not out of concern for him and his condition, but to curry favor. But he was glad for the company. Many people had called. All of the Dons up and down the east coast. But nobody else had bothered to come.

  But mostly they were there, the Don quickly realized, because of Monk’s allegations.

  “I told him he was wasting his time,” the Don said. “What more you want me to do?”

  “The indignity of it,” Raymond said, “is what I need you to understand. He’s not helping this family. He’s destroying this family.”

  “Destroying it my ass,” the Don said. “How’s he gonna destroy it in a day? He just got installed yesterday! It was already destroyed. Frankie will build it back up. We all need to pull for his success, Raymond, not undermine it.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing. He’s my son, and I love my son. That’s not what I’m doing.”

  “You think you should still be boss?” the Don asked.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Then you’re undermining him. Stop it. Or he will.”

  Raymond looked at Boozer Rome. Boozer shook his head. The Don was always team Monk and no matter what disaster happened on Monk’s watch, he would remain team Monk.

  Raymond knew it too. That was why he held his peace and just sat there with Bonaducci. They sat there, quietly, for nearly half-an-hour longer before the door opened, and Monk and the Sinatras, including Ashley and Charles, walked in.

  And true to form, when the Don saw Monk, he smiled. “How did your ass get pass security?” he asked.

  Monk gave a weak smile as he walked up to the bed. “Hello, Godfather.”

  “Welcome to my world,” the Don said. “And you bring Mick the Tick, Big Daddy, and Teddy T with you. Well, well. What an honor. How are you, gentlemen?”

  They all said their hellos.

  “And Ashley’s here, too, Godfather,” Monk said.

  The Don seemed a little pissed at Monk’s insinuation that he was being disrespectful, but he kept smiling anyway. Her father and uncle were right in his face. He was a sensible man. “And Ashley, of course,” he said. “How are you, young lady?”

  “I’m okay,” Ashley answered.

  “What are you doing here, Pop?” Monk asked Raymond.

  “What do you mean what am I doing here? He’s still the Don. I came to pay my respects. We all did. After you, quote unquote, ‘let us go’ like we were some common criminals. As if we, the men who’ve been with Don Bonaducci the longest, the men who love him the greatest, would have conspired against him. I will never forgive you for that!”

 

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