Reno Gabrini- the Man in the Mirror Read online

  Tommy and Reno sat their weapons at their side. They were ready.

  But as soon as Stitch headed through the crowd toward the car, his dope tucked neatly away beneath his shirt, he saw one of the women in the crowd place her hand on her hip and say, “that look like Reno Gabrini’s Porsche!”

  As soon as Stitch heard Reno’s name, he didn’t hesitate. He took off running, and running back toward the club.

  “Motherfuck!” Reno yelled as he jumped out of the car, hiding his weapon at his side, and ran after Stitch. Sal and Mick ran after Stitch, too. Tommy took off in the Porsche, to see if he could cut him off in the back.

  But Stitch didn’t run around back. He ran back inside of the club. Reno hated that because they were now in a confined space they couldn’t control. But they had no choice. He, Sal, and Mick ran inside and followed Stitch as he made his way to the second floor. The bouncers on guard upstairs allowed Stitch passage through, and was about to stop Reno and company from going any further.

  “No entry,” the head bouncer said, placing his hand on Reno’s chest. Until he realized who he was saying no to. He was floored. Reno Gabrini? At their nothing club? And then he saw Sal Gabrini. And then he saw Mick the Tick, for crying out loud! Before Reno and company could say a word, or demand anything at all, the bouncer stepped aside himself and allowed them passage through. It was one thing to stop a gangster. It was another thing altogether, he decided, to stop gangsters on their level. No job was worth his life.

  And his backup bouncers agreed, as they didn’t stop the men from chasing after Stitch, either. They didn’t owe Stitch shit. He got his dope supply from their boss, but that was the only connection they had to him. Which, on a night like this, wasn’t enough of a connection to matter.

  Reno and company appreciated the respect and ran after Stitch. But as they ran down a second hall after Stitch, they were suddenly met by gunfire. Stitch was now shooting at them.

  They dodged bullets as they ran back to the first hall, behind the wall. But then they came out firing back. They ran up that hall as a threesome, their guns blasting away, and Stitch knew he was outgunned. He stopped attempting to get in a firefight with them, and ran down the back stairs.

  He ran so fast, and Reno and company ran so fast after him, that when Stitch opened the door he literally went airborne and jumped from the top step to the bottom step. He would have regained his composure and kept running, outpacing all of his pursuers, but Tommy was already back there, and had the Porsche positioned to go. He hit the gas and drove right into Stitch’s path. Stitch jumped on top of the hood to avoid getting hit, just as Reno, Sal, and Mick ran down the steps and grabbed his ass.

  Stitch immediately pissed in his pants. The overflow flowed down his leg, and landed on Reno’s five-thousand-dollar shoe.

  “Motherfucker!” Reno yelled, as he pulled his shoe away from Stitch’s leg. “I ought to beat your ass right now!”

  “Let’s get out of here,” Mick said, as he grabbed Stitch by the collar and escorted him to the Porsche. And then threw him inside.

  CHAPTER TEN

  They didn’t take Stitch far. Certainly out of the area, since cops were on their way, and into an alley where they could work their will without an audience.

  All four men got out of the car, but Reno got back in. Only he got in the backseat with Stitch. Sal, Tommy, and Mick smiled. “Heaven help Stitch,” Sal said, and they laughed.

  But Stitch wasn’t laughing. He knew Reno Gabrini. He knew what a mean son-of-a-bitch he could be. And Reno wasn’t laughing either. If Mick’s information was correct, and Reno was willing to bet his life it was, this asshole was involved in an attempted assassination on his wife. Reno was as serious as serious could get.

  But Reno just sat there. He didn’t look at Stitch. He didn’t lay a hand on Stitch.

  Yet.

  Stitch felt his heart began to hammer. “What’s this about?” he asked as if he didn’t know. “We go back a long way, Reno. I knew you when you used to run numbers for your daddy back in Jersey. You remember those days, don’t you, Reno? You remember how we used to hang out and shit, don’t you, Reno?”

  There was another long pause. Then, mercifully, Stitch thought, Reno spoke. “You’re going to die,” he said to Stitch without looking at him.

  Stitch’s heart dropped. “What are you saying, Reno?”

  “Life or death is not the issue,” Reno continued as if he was in a one-way conversation. “You’re going to die. But the difference is in the degree. The difference will be based on how much pain you’re interested in enduring.”

  “I’m not interested in enduring any pain, Reno, what are you talking?”

  “Who hired you?” Reno looked at him for the first time.

  “Reno, you’ve got to give me a chance here. You know me! Let’s come to a reasonable outcome here. You’ve got to give me a break!”

  Reno couldn’t believe he said that. “Give you a break? Give you a break? How many breaks were you going to give my wife, motherfucker, when you planted that bomb in Kal’s? How many breaks did you give all of those innocent people you killed?”

  “But it wasn’t me! I didn’t plant any bombs anywhere.”

  “You were there, Stitch. Your ass on tape. Stop fucking with me!”

  “I’m not lying to you. I didn’t do anything!”

  “Then why were you there? And don’t come with that it was a coincidence bullshit because you know that doesn’t exist. Why were you at Kal’s this morning? What were you doing there?”

  “But I wasn’t there.”

  Reno frowned. “You were there, motherfucker, what do you think I’m stupid? I saw the fucking tape! What were you doing there? Why did you plant that bomb?”

  “I didn’t plant any bombs! Oscar . . .” Stitch quickly hesitated, as if he’d just made a critical error. “I mean . . .”

  It was obvious to Reno that Stitch had not intended to go that far. It was also obvious to Reno that he could use it for all it was worth. “Oscar Di Salvo hired you,” he said. “I already know he hired you. What I don’t know is why. What I don’t know is what’s his beef with me?”

  Stitch leaned his head back and covered his face with his hands. Then he shook his head as he sat there. “You’ve got to give me an option, Reno. You want answers, and I’ll give them to you, but you’ve got to give me something!”

  “I already gave you something. You can have a slow death, or a fast death. Those are your options.”

  “Those ain’t no options!”

  Reno had had it. He reached over, grabbed Stitch by the catch of his throat, and squeezed. “You tell me what you know, and you tell me now!” Reno was clenching his teeth as he spoke. “What did you do for Oscar?”

  When Stitch didn’t respond, Reno squeezed harder.

  “I pressed the button,” Stitch said in rapidly.

  “What button, motherfucker? Make yourself plain!”

  “The button on the remote control. It was a remote-control bomb. I walked outside like it was nothing, and pressed the button.”

  “Like it was nothing?” Reno was incredulous. “My wife was in that motherfucker, and all those other people, and you walked out and pressed that button like it was nothing? I ought to kill your ass right now just for saying that stupid shit!”

  “Fast,” Stitch yelled. “I want a fast and painless death.”

  Reno exhaled. And stopped choking him. “Then talk, motherfucker. Tell me what Oscar Di Salvo is up to, and where is his ass hiding.”

  Stitch shook his head. “How could anybody figure it out? How could anybody have tied me to that bombing? I wasn’t in the sight of the cameras. We worked it out that way. How could they have seen me?”

  “There were cameras all over that place, hidden and seen, and cameras from across the street, asshole. When you were inside, cameras picked you up. When you were outside, cameras from other businesses picked you up. Those were some grainy images, but Mick Sinatra recognized your ass.
”

  Stitch shook his head again. Mick Sinatra! He couldn’t believe his bad luck.

  “Now talk,” Reno ordered him.

  “You killed Frank Partanna,” Stitch said. His eyes were filled with tears, but he knew he would get no sympathy from Reno. They targeted his wife because of his feelings for his wife. He knew Reno wasn’t about to forgive that. “Oscar lived for the day when he would get his revenge on Frank. But you beat him to it. You took away the reason he had for living. And he couldn’t allow that.”

  “That’s an odd fucking reason,” Reno said.

  “That’s the only reason I know,” Stitch said.

  “Why was he dressed like a Muslim at Kal’s?”

  “He dresses up in all kinds of getup. He’s fucked up like that. In prison, they called him the Chameleon. He knew how to change his appearance even there. He says it takes the hounds off his scent. Whatever the fuck that means.”

  “Where is he?” Reno asked. And he was ready to beat it out of Stitch.

  But Stitch didn’t resist. He didn’t put up any more fights. He even smiled. “He’s been hiding in plain sight,” he said.

  “Hiding? Where?”

  “Where you be every day, Reno. He sees you every single day. Only he’s not looking at you as Oscar Di Salvo. He’s looking at you as Heather. Heather Rhinestone. He pretends to be a slut from Texas, complete with a Texas twang.”

  Reno couldn’t believe it. Heather Rhinestone? He easily remembered that name! He remembered her from this morning. Tony Mackle had introduced her to him that morning.

  Reno wanted to take off right away to deal with that bitch. But he still had unfinished business. “Get out,” he said to Stitch.

  Stitch was confused. “Get out?”

  “Get out,” Reno ordered.

  Stitch got out of the car, and Reno got out with him. Mick, Sal, and Tommy looked at them. They didn’t know what Reno was up to, either.

  “What now?” Stitch asked Reno.

  Reno pulled out a liter, and flicked open a flame.

  Stitch couldn’t believe it. “But you said it was going to be fast,” he said.

  “It will be,” Reno responded. “For me.” And he grabbed Stitch by his arm and set his hair on fire.

  Stitch fell to the ground, and tried to put out the flames by hitting his hair and throwing dirt on his head. But Reno wasn’t done. He pulled out a box of matches, and began striking them, and tossing them onto the fire, inflaming it even more. And then he started throwing lit matches on Stitch’s clothing, causing Stitch to battle flames on both ends of his body. Until he was slowly engulfed.

  “Bonfire, you bastard,” Reno said as the torch grew bigger and bigger and Stitch screamed louder and louder and Reno kept tossing matches onto the fast-charring body. “You could have killed my wife, and you think I’m giving you a fucking break? I got your break right here, motherfucker,” Reno added, as he struck and tossed even more matches.

  Mick, Sal, and Tommy walked over to Reno. They would have gladly joined in, but they knew it was Reno’s party. And he didn’t need any guests.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  It worked like a charm. Reno wasn’t in his casino two minutes before “Heather” wanted to speak with him again. Reno took a seat at one of the tables and watched a few of his customers gamble. Tony Mackle had already been instructed to allow Heather to come near him if she asked. She asked as soon as she saw that Reno was taking a seat in his casino.

  “If you let me talk to him again,” Heather said, “I’ll give you extra special loving when we hook up tonight.”

  Tony’s stomach turned, but he knew he had to go along with the bastard. “We haven’t hooked up yet,” he said. “Why should I believe we will if I let you talk to my boss again? You see how he treated you this morning. What makes you think he’ll treat you any better tonight?”

  “Just do it, Tone. Just get me over there. And I promise you we’ll hook up later.”

  Heather would never know it, but the casino was overloaded with security. Especially around Reno. And Tony, knowing his role, too, escorted her over.

  “Boss, you remember Miss Rhinestone from this morning, don’t you?” Tony said when they arrived at Reno’s side.

  Reno didn’t look Heather’s way, nor respond to Tony. But that was the plan. He didn’t want any scenes in his casino.

  “It’s busy in here tonight,” Heather said as she stood beside Reno’s chair. “You must be pleased.”

  “It’s busy every night,” Reno replied. “And I am pleased.” He said this and looked at her. And suddenly he saw what he didn’t see when he first met her: a man in drag. He was amazed that he didn’t see it before. Probably because her boobs seemed so real. And her strut. But then again, he thought, a man who spent twenty years fucking other men in prison probably learned how to strut better than most women, anyway.

  But Heather could sense Reno’s interest. It never even occurred to her that Reno might just be on to her. Never once. Her goal was to get Reno upstairs, alone in one of those rooms. Then he’d get his revenge. He tried to go the let him suffer route by icing his old lady. But it didn’t work. Now he had to go the direct way. And tonight might just be his last chance.

  “I heard about what happened to your wife today,” Heather said. “It had to be awful for her. Is she truly alright, or is the media talking what they don’t know?”

  “She’s alright.”

  “Well that’s good.”

  “She’s a little beat up, though.”

  Heather got the hint. She smiled. “Too beat up to give a man like you what I’m sure he has to have each and every hour of the day?”

  Reno smiled, too, but her white skin made his crawl. “Something like that,” he said.

  “I knew before, when you were being so mean to me, it was because your employee was sitting beside you. Because I heard about you. I heard you’ve never been any one-woman man. But you keep it undercover, and I respect that. You don’t want your employees to know. But guess what? You’re by yourself tonight. Now you don’t have such a restriction.”

  Reno knew what that asshole was up to. He wanted to get Reno alone. He wanted to do to Reno what he had been unable to do to Reno’s wife.

  “The offer still stands,” Heather continued. “Why don’t you show me one of your best rooms, show me how large I heard it is, and I’ll show you one of my best, ah, fucks?”

  Reno looked “her” up and down as if he gave a fuck. And then he nodded to Tony.

  Tony, who had moved slightly away, hurried back over. “Yes, sir, Mr. Gabrini?”

  “Take Miss--”

  “Rhinestone,” Heather said with a grand smile.

  “Take Miss Rhinestone to my private room,” he said. “And use my private elevator.”

  Tony pretended to be surprised. He looked at Heather, and Heather smiled. Then he nodded at Reno. “Yes, sir, Boss,” he said, and then escorted Heather out of the casino, and then over to Reno’s private elevator.

  Heather was beside herself with joy. It didn’t work out with that bitch wife of his, but now it was going to work like a charm with the man himself. Which was what she was after anyway. Which was what she wanted when she first propositioned his sorry ass, anyway. His wife had always been plan B. Now she was back to her original plan.

  But when the doors of Reno’s private elevator opened, and Heather saw that Sal Gabrini, Tommy Gabrini, and that fucker Mick the Tick Sinatra were all waiting inside that elevator, her heart fell through her shoe and she quickly turned to run away. But Sal grabbed her by the pearls around her neck and flung her onto the elevator before she could make her escape. “Going somewhere, Mrs. Doubtfire?” he asked her as he flung.

  Tommy pressed the button, and the door slammed closed, shutting Heather in with the three of them, and Tony out.

  “Hello, Oscar,” Mick said in that cool delivery of his.

  And in that very moment, Heather’s entire countenance changed. And the gorgeous blonde th
ey all saw on first blush, became the dude they all knew was behind the mask. In that very moment, the charade was up. Heather became Oscar again, and Oscar knew he was going to have to improvise.

  They took him to the Bowels. It was a place, in the basement of Reno’s PaLargio Hotel and Casino, where Reno handled many nasty situations. And it was a nasty, deplorable place with echoes of constant water dripping; the heavy smell of mold and mildew; and the eerie feeling of memories no human being should ever have to remember. By the time Reno made it down there, they had placed Oscar in the main room, in a chair, with Mick and Tommy standing against the wall. Sal sat beside her, just in case.

  Reno walked up to the man in drag. Everybody had wanted to cut his ass down to size. Especially Mick, whose men did the background work to get them to this point. But they all knew Reno deserved that reward. It was, after all, Reno’s wife this bastard had tried to kill.

  Oscar watched as the big man opened his expensive suit coat, placed his hands in his pockets, and made his way up to his chair. The leather soles of his expensive shoes stepped down hard and loud in the hollow basement, and Oscar began to feel as if his walk was more like a death march. And he was the target of the march.

  Reno was now in front of him. But Heather Rhinestone wasn’t who he was after. He wanted to see the man behind the get-up. He wanted, as Trina had wanted, to look him in his eyes, not the eyes inside of some costume. And Reno did it. He snatched off the big, blonde wig. He ripped off the fake boobs. He tore off the dress. He wiped off Heather’s makeup with Heather’s own sweaty palms. And then Oscar Di Salvo was exposed, not as the vixen he pretended to be, nor as the middle-eastern man he quickly changed into at Kal’s: but as the bastard he was.

  But before Reno could ask the first question, the door to the main room opened, and one of his men stepped inside. Mick and Tommy suddenly stopped lounging against the wall, and stood erect. What was going on?