The Redemption of John T.

By John Billecci

The Redemption of John T. is the story of a young man who was a great athlete but, due to his reputation as a young thug in his hometown of San Francisco, turns to becoming a member of a street gang under the control of the local Mafia family. His intelligence and cunning wits bring him success, and he rises rapidly in the Mafia family. The story follows his ascension to the very pinnacle of the Sicilian-American Mafia. It is at his pinnacle that for the first time in his life, he finds love and shortly thereafter has a miraculous recovery from a bullet wound that caused him to have an epiphany and wherein he finds his redemption.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Feb 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781098017934

Book preview

Chapter 1

John Terranova pushed through the chrome-framed revolving glass door and entered the lobby of the polished charcoal granite and smoked glass fifty-two-story Alcamo Building located in central downtown Denver, Colorado. At four in the afternoon on this very hot and humid July day, large menacing thunder clouds loomed on the southern horizon. But like this Alcamo fortress of granite and steel, John didn’t pay attention to the weather. He was too solid in body and mind.

Six feet, four inches tall, he is a handsome and powerfully built thirty-four-year-old Sicilian who looked like he could play middle linebacker for any professional football team—a career denied him by the midiganes, the Americans, who refused to sign him because he was a Sicilian with a police record, which, although it had been officially sealed, was the source of his significant criminal reputation in his hometown of San Francisco, California.

His sense of invulnerability was proven time and time again as not even one bullet hit him when he fought through a hail of bullets in the very early morning hours eighteen months earlier when he personally saved his capo di tutti capi, Angelo Alcamo, when he pulled him down to the floor and covered his body while he protected his don during a three-way confrontation between the Denver County Sheriff’s SWAT team, gunmen of the Mexico’s Santiago Cartel, and the cadre of fellow personal bodyguards of the Alcamo crime family.

This afternoon, this man—who his fellow Alcamo family members considered a man among men—was on a mission to retrieve a video secretly recorded during the Alcamo Multiline Insurance Agency’s New Year’s Eve party of 1983. It was a video that John believed could give the family’s consigliere enough information to help get the boss’ charges dropped or be used to influence the chief federal judge and other federal, state, and Local Official who attended the party.

Everyone in the family except John believed that it would be an impossible task because the Denver County district attorney was the very ambitious George Madison, a man the Colorado State Republican Party had groomed to become the next governor of Colorado and a man who had vowed to end organized crime in Colorado, but John had a plan that he believed would not only free his don but also ruin George Madison, and today was the first step.

*****

John flipped out a one-hundred-dollar bill allowing it to float slowly down onto the small crescent-shaped polished charcoal granite counter. Here, this is for you, Charlie, he said in his usual icy-cold voice backed by a stare that seemed to penetrate Charlie’s soul, a stare backed by a smile that hid an emotional hand grenade just waiting for some unsuspecting fool to pull the pin, a stare that instilled fear in any man whether they knew John’s well-deserved reputation or not.

Good afternoon, Mr. Terranova. How may I help you? Charlie asked as sweat percolated down his spine.

Hello, Charlie. Still holding down the lobby desk I see.

Sure, still just doing my job, sir, Charlie responded in as strong a voice as he could muster.

Well, so you say, but you’re lucky that I’m in a hurry today because I’ve got a bone to pick with you. Meanwhile, just give me the key and don’t write my name in your freaking log.

Yes, sir, Mr. Terranova. Here’s the key, and I promise no name in the log, sir, Charlie replied as he smoothly swept the one-hundred-dollar bill off the desk and into the side pocket of his light gray sport coat with the charcoal-colored capital scripted A embroidered on the breast pocket.

John snatched the key out of the Charlie’s shaking hand and moved quickly to the far end of the lobby, unlocked the door of the private elevator, and quietly chuckled to himself at the reaction he had obtained from his off-the-cuff remark to the security guard.

What could he have on his conscience to have acted so guilty at my remark? he thought as he used the private elevator to reach the fifty-second floor lobby of the Alcamo Multiline Insurance Agency.

John walked past the receptionist in silence as he entered the private office of the president of the Alcamo Multiline Insurance Agency, one of the nation’s largest independent insurance agencies with offices in every major U.S. city. It was just as he remembered it—except now Angelo Alcamo Jr. sat at the Don’s large ornately carved black walnut desk and his personal office staff of three young male assistants, each with a dozen young female clerks and secretaries.

Junior was not a member of his father’s crime family. The Don had kept his wife and son separate and protected from his crime family business. When Junior graduated from the Colorado School of Business, the Don put him to work in the insurance agency, starting as a management trainee. As Junior’s knowledge and ability in the multiline insurance business progressed, the Don promoted Junior up the ranks of his executives until the Don ordered the Board of Directors to appoint Junior to the office of president so the Don could legally separate himself from the large and legitimate insurance agency.

Okay, everybody take a break, John said and hesitated. You too Junior, and, Junior, you make sure nobody comes in until after I leave.

Junior immediately ushered his staff out of the office and into the lobby where they all stood with their backs to the office door, and each prayed silently that John’s visit to their office had nothing to do with them.

John reached high on the wall behind the desk and gave one of the large square walnut wall panels a quick jab, and the section of wall popped open revealing a stainless steel wall safe. He exhaled slowly as he began to roll the tumbler to the right combination of numbers. Son of a…I guess my memory is failing me, John grumbled as he found only stock certificates, bearer bonds and insurance, and personal documents in the safe.

He moved to the far corner of the office, moved a credenza, pulled back the carpet, and lifted a false floor panel giving him access to the Don’s most secret hiding place. He dialed the tumblers and lifted the handle, revealing stacks of hundred-dollar bills wrapped in cellophane bundles of 1,000 bills each, an old pearl handled U.S. Army issue Colt .45 pistol that had been used by General George Patton while on station in Sicily and the VCR tape that John needed to begin his plan.

John replaced the floor panel, carpet, and furniture and stood staring down at the people walking south along California Street toward the 16th Street Mall, fifty-two stories below. Freaking midiganes, look up and see. This is Johnny T. up where I belong…high up here, high above you, John thought.

Fifteen minutes later, John sat quietly on a granite bench in front of the Mountain West Travel Agency on that same open-air mall and gazed at the line of beautiful young ladies waiting to catch one of the free city trams that traversed the length of the open-air 16th Street Mall.

John was resting as he waited to implement the second step of his plan. Hello, I hope you haven’t been waiting long.

John slowly turned his head to see the source of the silky smooth female voice. No, I just hope you are ready, John said in the most charming voice he could muster.

Yes, my friend should be waiting, the beautiful blonde said.

The beautiful blonde was Darla Stevens, one of the legal assistants in the consigliere’s law firm. She was in love with John, but she knew he would never want to hear those words even from a woman who was so close to the family. She knew that he considered love as an emotion that could be a deadly weakness for a man like him.

John held Darla’s warm moist hand as he gazed into her shining crystal blue eyes. He liked her lightweight skirt and matching blouse, professional but sexy and, of course, a perfect outfit for such a hot day.

Okay, this broad had better go for this, he said coldly as he finally released her hand and took the liberty of reaching across her face and brushing back a few loose strands of her hair that covered her left eye.

Oh my lord, John, I swear she is perfect for what you want, and per your orders, she is waiting over at Billy’s Bistro, Darla said as she felt goose bumps of fear popping up all over her body.

And your condo is just a few blocks farther down the mall…on Union Station Street…right?

Oh yes, my condo is on the tenth floor on the east side of the building and there is quite a view from up there.

Very nice. Now, don’t forget I want you to invite me and your friend to your place for a drink.

Yes, I have it all arranged, and I promise you will be very pleasantly surprised, Darla answered as John turned and headed westward down the mall with Darla’s arm now wrapped through his.

*****

John, this is my friend Linda, Darla said as she and John came to a full stop at the small sidewalk cabaret table.

Nice to meet you, John, Linda said extending her hand.

Yes, nice to meet you too, pretty lady, John replied as he gazed down into her large blue-streaked hazel eyes that sparkled in the sunlight as he took her warm hand into his own and gave it a gentle squeeze that sent a charge of electricity though both of their bodies.

Listen, Linda, John and I are going up to my place for drinks and I was hoping that you would join us, Darla said as she gave Linda a wink.

I would love that, Linda said as she pushed back her chair and quickly caught up to the pair who had already turned west toward Darla’s condo.

Darla, I must tell you how jealous I am. Why didn’t you tell me you were dating such a big handsome man?

Okay, ladies, I’m right here you know, John said to neither in particular. Then he continued, And for your information, I am a completely free man.

Chapter 2

John awoke with the early morning sun shining in through the open windows of Darla’s condominium. The glare made his eyes sting. He tried to raise his right arm but could not as it was caught beneath the flowing auburn hair of Linda’s still sleeping body. God, I would love to look into those beautiful hazel eyes and watch the small blue streaks reflect the morning light, he thought.

Ma fongul, that was a very special evening with this beautiful woman. In fact, no woman has ever made me feel that way before, he thought as he carefully untangled himself from Linda’s embrace to get up and to the bathroom.

An hour later, he sat in the offices of Wright, Johnson, Spencer, and Meyers, attorneys-at-law, and occasionally sipped from an ice-cold glass of Stolichnaya vodka as he, Harold Wright, and Angelo Alcamo watched the clandestine Alcamo New Year’s Party video.

Harold Wright was a sophisticated sixty-year-old man with a Harvard School of Law education, and although he was a man with mostly gray hair that gave him the appearance of an older man, it belied his energetic and supremely cunning mind that had provided him with an extremely high success rate representing the leaders of the New York Sicilian Mafia in the early 1960s. It was in 1968 when he moved West at the request of his current primary client, Angelo Alcamo, and formed the partnership with three other Harvard Law School graduates, William Johnson, Timothy Spencer, and Andrew Meyers, who each made a great success representing non-Alcamo family clients.

As the three continued to watch portions of the video, John noticed Harold Wright occasionally jot a few notes, but otherwise no one spoke as the video unfolded the persons and events of that New Year’s Eve party.

Well, that’s it. Now lock it up in your private safe, the Don grumbled in his best broken English as the video monitor went black.

Yes, of course, Wright said calmly.

Giovanni, you make sure that my consigliere has everything that he needs to follow your plan, the eighty-year-old Angelo Alcamo said as he rose slowly out of the large leather chair.

John gave the attorney a reassuring nod.

"Allora andiamo. I got people to see up in Boulder," the Don said settling solidly to his feet.

John, could you come back later this afternoon to go over a few of my notes? Wright asked.

"Ma seguru, I will be here at four, if that’s good for you," John replied.

Twenty minutes later, the Don’s chief bodyguard and driver Nunzio Faustino pulled the Don’s newly up-armored black Lincoln Town Car into the parking lot of Michael’s Fine Italian Restaurant in Boulder. The parking lot was empty except for Michael Gianbruno’s large black 1981 Mercedes S600 four-door limousine and the two men wearing matching black suits standing alongside with lit cigarettes hanging from their mouths.

Nunzio pulled the Lincoln up next to the Mercedes and escorted the Don to the service door of the restaurant and then returned and opened John’s door, and the two walked around the Mercedes and greeted their two longtime friends and fellow Alcamo family members Vincent Aiello and Rocco Lucido.

The two men were distant cousins on John’s mother’s side of his family and both long-standing members of the Alcamo family who had taken their oath as young men in San Francisco. It was the slightly older Vincent who had first invited John into the old 16th Street crew and started him along his career as a member of the Alcamo family.

Hey, cuz, how you hanging? Rocco said as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pack of Marlboro 100s and handed it to John’s waiting hand.

So far, so good. John replied casually as he lit his cigarette.

"Bella cozi," the younger Rocco said in return.

Okay, we gotta go, John said as he saw the Don appear and flipped his cigarette to the ground and moved toward the Lincoln where the always efficient Nunzio had already opened the rear door.

Nunzio, I want you to drive me up to Junior’s place in Golden, the Don said as he followed John into the opened door.

"Per certo," Nunzio answered.

John knew that the Don would want to be left with his son’s family for the remainder of the day and night, so he planned to have Nunzio take him to his house down in Cherry Creek Estates where he would get his new black 1981 Range Rover and drive back to Wright’s office.

As soon as the Lincoln was rolling, John opened the small compartment that held the built-in phone and began giving orders to one of his lieutenants, and then after he replaced the phone, he just stared out at the passing scenery and suddenly found himself thinking about how it felt making love to Linda.

Ma fongul, I’ve got to manage this woman carefully if I’m going to use her to spy for me, he thought as his large muscular hand crashed down onto the thickly padded armrest making a dull thud sound as his hand crushed the padding against the well-armored interior of the door.

"Ma, che cosa fare?" Don Angelo asked in surprise.

"Niente, Padrino. I was just thinking about a broad."

"Pazienza di las femminile, Giovanni. Pazienza."

Angelo patted John gently on the back of his hand, leaned closer, and whispered into John’s ear, "Giovanni, you know you’re like a son to me, and one day, I want you to take over the family from me. So I need you to be strong and very careful, especially with the other caporegimes, capisce?"

"Si, capisco," John answered.

Chapter 3

Hello, pretty lady. I’m John Terranova and I’m here for a four o’clock meeting with Mr. Wright, but first I would like a word with Darla Stevens, John said coldly as he stared down into the very large brown eyes of the pretty young receptionist.

For future reference, Mr. Terranova, my name is Angela, Angela Fayette, not pretty lady, the receptionist said tersely in a very deep Southern accent. And if you please just take a seat, I will call Ms. Stevens and tell her that you are here.

John sat and stared at the young receptionist and wondered if she could possibly know how close she has just brought herself to a fate worse than death for insulting him. Ma fongul, questa puttana, he thought as he sat and contemplated how he might deal with her before sending her into to the white slave trade for such an insult. He continued to stare and study her. Fayette, what kind of name is that? Must be a freaking French broad but with an Italian olive complexion and long black wavy hair.

John was still staring at the young receptionist when he saw the beautiful Darla Stevens enter the lobby. He quickly got to his feet, took both of Darla’s hands into his, and said softly, Good afternoon, pretty lady.

Good afternoon, John. I’m sorry that I missed you this morning, Darla said as she tried to stare up into his eyes.

Listen, I’ve got a meeting with Mr. Wright in a few minutes, but I just wanted to thank you for last night and ask you a favor, John said quietly.

Sure, anything for you, John, Darla cooed as a slight smile ignited her crystal blue eyes.

I need to know your friend Linda’s last name and phone number, John said.

Oh yes, of course. I understand, Darla stammered as the disappointment in her voice was too hard to hide. Yes, her name is Linda Albrecht.

Thank you, Darla, and by the way, I know she works for the DA, John said in as calm a voice as he could manage.

Oh god, John, I only called her because she is a very special friend and I knew that she would go along with us to my condo, Darla said as she picked up a business card from the coffee table, quickly jotted Linda’s home phone number, and handed the card to John.

Why is it that you don’t do any work for Mr. Wright? John asked as he decided he wanted to make Darla feel even more insecure.

John, Mr. Wright is the most senior partner in the firm, and at his age, he has decided to limit his representation to just Angelo Alcamo. And so he only uses his son-in-law Robert Brady as his paralegal so he can keep maximum privacy, Darla explained.

Yes, of course…Thank you, Darla, John said as he watched Darla turn and quickly disappear down the hallway, seeing only the swing of her hips but unable to see the tears of jealousy and disappointment welling up in her eyes.

Excuse me, Mr. Terranova. Mr. Wright will see you now. Just down the hallway to…

Yes, I know the way, John interrupted coldly before Angela could finish.

Mr. Terranova, please wait a moment, Angela blurted out.

What is it now? John asked impatiently.

I’m very sorry, Mr. Terranova. I was rude a few moments ago and I apologize, Angela said quietly.

Ma, this puttana. She insulted me and now she thinks that she can just give me her half-baked apology and get away with such an insult? he thought as he stared down and directly into Angela’s large brown eyes.

I’ll tell you what, pretty lady, give me your address and I’ll come over tonight for a drink and you can give me a proper apology. How’s that sound? John asked knowing that by now she must know that she has no alternative but to accept.

Yes, here you are, Mr. Terranova, Angela said as she quickly wrote down her address and handed him the slip of paper.

I’ll see you tonight then, but it may be late, he said, paused, and continued. Oh, by the way, Fayette, is that French? he asked.

Well, yes. I’m from New Orleans and my father’s family is French, but my mother was a Sicilian whose family settled in New Orleans directly from Trapani, Sicily, she said proudly.

Half Sicilian, well at least you’ve got that going for you, he said as he turned and walked down the hallway leading to Wright’s office.

Ma fongul, questa puttana sta menza Siciliano, so she just might fit right into some of my ideas, he thought.

Hello, John, would you like something to drink before we get started? Wright asked as John entered his office.

Yes, sure, I’ll have a Stoli on the rocks, John replied as he moved across the room to sit in one of the six large leather chairs surrounding the oval mahogany conference table.

Here you are, John, Wright said as he handed John the glass of ice-cold vodka.

"Grazie i saluti pi tutti," John said.

Okay then, let’s go over a few notes that I jotted down this morning and I believe that you will have a better chance to implement your plan, Wright said.

"Scusa mi, but before we get started, I would like to ask you about Darla Stevens."

John, you should know that Darla has been with the firm since she moved here from Atlanta back in 1971. She was right out of high school. We hired her as our receptionist, we put her through college, and even though I don’t use her, she is still our best paralegal. So the first thing that you should know is that I have the highest regard for Darla and I trust her judgment.

And before we start, remind me of what you know about the District Attorney’s Office.

It’s a big office with four deputy district attorneys, with one at the head of each division, and there are about twenty attorneys and ten investigators, a few assistants, and a half dozen paralegals running around over there, Harold explained.

Hmmm, so Linda is one of only six in the office, John murmured quietly.

Okay, now can we go over these notes? Wright asked.

"Allora, let’s get started," John answered as just a hundred feet away, Darla Stevens had just called Linda Albrecht.

When Linda failed to answer, Darla left a message on Linda’s new answering machine. Sorry I missed you, Lyn. We need to talk as soon as possible. I’ll meet you at Billy’s after work, Darla said in as calm a voice as she could muster as she now believed that both of their lives were in great danger.

Oh my god, John’s going to go crazy and he’ll cut both of our freaking hearts out, Darla thought just as her telephone rang. Oh god, thanks for calling right back, Lyn, Darla said nervously.

What is the problem, Darla? Your message sounded so frantic, Linda said.

Darn it, and I tried to sound so calm. Listen, I can’t talk on the phone. Meet me at Billy’s right after work and I’ll tell you everything, okay? Darla asked.

All right, I’ll be at Billy’s right after work but this had better be good to play me along like this, Linda said in a clearly annoyed tone.

Chapter 4

Oh my god, Linda, John knows you work in the DA’s Office.

What do you mean? Linda asked.

Darla reached across the small table and took Linda’s hand. Oh, Linda, he came to the office today and asked me for your name and number, and of course, I had to give it to him and he told me he knows where you work.

Yes, I see and he will suspect that I know everything about him and he will wonder why I didn’t let him know that I recognized him and he’ll be suspicious that I went along with the threesome as some part of a plan that our ambitious DA has to get him, and worse, he will think that you set him up, Darla. Oh my love, this could be a mess, Linda concluded.

So do you have a plan? Darla asked.

My plan is to be right up front and honest about the whole thing.

For God’s sake, Lyn, he’ll want proof. He’ll need some kind of proof that there is no plan or plot, that it was just us two having some fun last night, or he might just cut out both of our hearts, maybe even worse, Darla said as her imagination began to go a little wild.

Okay just calm down, Dar. He will give you the benefit of the doubt because you work for the family’s consigliere and that will give us a chance, and I will just be honest with him and we had better just pray that he believes me, Linda said in as calming a voice as she could manage.

All right, I don’t know what other chance we have. Just expect a call from him and let me know how it goes, Darla said as they rose from the table and kissed each other on the cheek.

Oh Lyn, why do you feel so attracted to him anyway? Linda asked herself as she walked slowly toward the corner stop to wait for the next tram heading east along the mall.

Suddenly, Linda felt goose bumps shaking her body and she believed she was being watched. Oh god, maybe it’s already too late, she thought as she hurriedly made her way aboard the waiting tram.

Okay, stay calm. There are lots of people around, and anyway, he wouldn’t have wanted my number unless he wanted to talk to me, Linda thought trying to convince herself that she was safe.

The ten-minute ride up to the Broadway stop seemed like an eternity and the short walk to her white 1978 Jeep Wrangler seemed like she was moving in slow motion, but there was nothing unusual and her drive home was uneventful although she constantly adjusted her rearview mirror to watch for anything suspicious. Nonetheless, Linda double-locked the door to her small apartment as she went in and made a complete tour making sure that there was no one in hiding in her bathroom or in a closet.

Darn it, this is crazy. I can’t live like this. Hopefully, John will call and I can straighten this mess out, Linda thought as she finally put her purse down on the counter and opened the refrigerator’s freezer section to retrieve her bottle of Stolichnaya vodka.

The phone rang just as Linda sat on the edge of her bed to undress. Hello, Linda said quietly.

Hello, Linda. This is John Terranova calling. I would like to meet you for a drink.

Yes, Darla told me that she gave you my number and I have been expecting a call. If you can give me about an hour, I would really love to meet you for a drink, but I would prefer if you would be willing to come to my apartment for that drink, Linda said in the most alluring voice she could muster.

I’ll make you a deal, Linda. Meet me at Luigi’s restaurant at seven o’clock and I’ll buy you an Italian dinner, we can share a nice bottle of wine, and then I’ll come back to your apartment for a nightcap. How’s that sound? John replied.

That sounds perfect, John. I’ll see you at Luigi’s restaurant at seven then, Linda answered quietly making the sign of the cross before setting the phone down and reaching for her still half-full glass of vodka.

*****

Linda entered Luigi’s restaurant at a few minutes past seven o’clock and found John already waiting in the small entrance area. Hello, John. I hope you haven’t been waiting long, Linda said.

No, you’re right on time, pretty lady, John said taking Linda by the arm.

We’ll take my regular table, Amy, John said to the young maître d’.

Right this way, Mr. Terranova, Amy said as she turned and led the pair to John’s usual table located against the wall decorated with the painting of the Bay of Naples and with a view of the entire restaurant.

I’ll send Carla right over, Mr. Terranova, Amy said as she turned and walked briskly toward the wait area.

This is a very nice little restaurant, Linda observed.

It’s a family operation, John said just as Carla approached the table.

Good evening, Mr. Terranova. Would you like your usual predinner cocktail? Carla asked.

What would you like to drink before dinner, Linda? John asked.

Please bring me a Stolichnaya on the rocks, Linda answered.

Unbelievable, John said.

What’s that? Linda asked.

That’s my favorite drink. We already have something in common, John said as his face lit up with a smile and his eyes twinkled.

The maître d’ and the waitress look like sisters, Linda said.

Yes, they are. Like I told you, this is a small family operation, John said.

John, I have to tell you that we have a lot more in common than just what we like to drink, Linda said.

Yes, I know, pretty lady. But please, let’s enjoy our cocktail before we go on.

Well, since you come here so often, maybe you would like to just go ahead and order your favorite meal for us. I’m sure that I will enjoy whatever it is, Linda said just as Carla set their drinks on the table.

Carla, please bring us both the ravioli dinner and a bottle of the Giardino Brunello. And, Carla, make sure that it’s a bottle of the 1967, will you?

Thank you, Mr. Terranova, Carla said as she removed the menus from the table and hurried toward the wait area.

"Saluti pi tutti," John said as he raised his glass in his usual toast.

"Yes, saluti pi tutti," Linda said as she touched her glass to his.

Linda, before either of us says anything else, I must tell you that I am more attracted to you than I have ever been to any woman in my whole life.

Oh, John, I felt the same way the minute Darla walked up to the table with you, and even though I shouldn’t have, my heart took over and my brain shut down and I just followed my heart. Oh god, listen to me rambling on, Linda said embarrassed at feeling like a schoolgirl.

Please, Linda—John interrupted—it was the same for me. I mean, I fell for you right away. I mean, oh for heaven’s sake, do you believe in love at first sight?

I guess that I do now because that’s how I feel and I know that this will be a very complicated relationship and probably cost me my job, but God, I just can’t help how I feel for you, John.

Well, it may cost you your job, but it could cost me my life…if you know what I mean, John whispered.

Good, here comes dinner. Let’s just enjoy our meals for right now, Linda said.

Go ahead and pour the wine, Carla. I’m sure that my lady friend will enjoy it, John said.

Yes, of course, Mr. Terranova, Carla said as she poured the wine glasses each half full, set the bottle on the table, and walked away.

John, I have an idea, Linda said.

Go ahead, John replied.

Well, I know you are worried that I work in the DA’s Office, so I think that I have a way to relieve your worries and to show you that my love is real, Linda said as she looked deeply into John’s large soft brown eyes.

Yes, go ahead, John said realizing that besides falling in love, his plan was working out even better than he had hoped.

Listen, like I said, this relationship could cost me my job and you said that it could cost you your life. Well, I think that I have an idea that will not only demonstrate my honest love for you but also help you with your boss, and to tell you the truth after that, I don’t care about my job, at least not as much as I care about you, Linda said as she continued to gaze into John’s eyes.

Well, go ahead. It’s completely safe to talk here, John said.

Yes, I imagine it is. Well, here goes, my idea is to get a copy of everything there is on you and on your boss out of the DA’s Office and give it to you to help you get yourself and your boss out of trouble.

You mean make a copy of everything and sneak it out of the office? John asked in the most naïve voice he could muster.

Yes, a copy of everything. But I am especially thinking about all the stuff that’s not in the regular files…you know, the investigators’ and the attorneys’ personal notes that are never put into the regular files, Linda explained.

Yes, I see what you mean and I see how that could be very helpful for Mr. Alcamo and me, John murmured to himself but loud enough so Linda could hear.

And I’ll keep feeding you information until your boss wins his case. That ought to prove that I love you.

Let’s hope so, pretty lady, John said.

Chapter 5

Tell me everything about yourself. I mean, after all, you know just about everything there is to know about me, John said.

Well, there is really not much to tell. I was born right here in Denver, at St. Joseph’s Hospital, and was baptized in St. Mary’s Catholic Church. We lived in a very nice house over in the South Park area. My father is a scientist that works on special government projects and my mother hasn’t worked since the war. I’m thirty-three years old and I have a paralegal certificate from Denver Law School. I did my internship in the DA’s Office, and George Madison hired me right after I graduated. I’m single and never been married. I met Darla in school, and as you learned last night, we became the very best of friends, and that’s about it, Linda said as John listened quietly while sipping his Stoli on the rocks.

Yeah, there’s no doubt that Darla and you are the very best friends, John said looking deeply into Linda’s eyes. But tell me, what is your culture? I, mean I know that you are Catholic, but I mean your family history, John asked.

Well my mother is Irish and my father German and they were both raised as Catholics and raised me the same way. I must admit that I don’t go to mass as often as I should, but I say my prayers and I believe that I’m fairly spiritual. I love German food, and on Saint Patrick’s Day, I need to have corned beef and cabbage for dinner to celebrate my mother’s side of the family. But you know, you’re wrong, John. I really don’t know everything about you. I only know what’s in your file. Why don’t you fill me in on your life growing up in San Francisco?

John set down his glass, gently took Linda’s glass from her hand, set it on the table next to his, and leaned into her so that their lips were almost touching. The first thing you need to know is that I’m a very passionate man, John whispered.

Oh, I know that from last night, Linda whispered back in her sexiest voice.

No, I mean in every way. I take everything very personally. Everything is a matter of life and death to me. I don’t know why…I mean, if you cross me, insult me, or hurt me, you have to suffer and maybe die. There’s no middle ground with me. So that’s how I live, and that’s how I love you. I mean that I must be with you totally and forever.

I love you too, John, Linda said and kissed him as softly and yet as passionately as she could.

God, I just remembered that I have to meet someone—a very important bit of business that I must attend to. But after the meeting, I’ll come to your apartment for that nightcap you promised.

It was nine thirty when John pushed the front doorbell of Angela’s apartment. Angela opened the door barefoot and wearing only very loosely fitting light-blue flannel pajamas that were tied with a drawstring. Good evening, Mr. Terranova. Please come in, Angela said.

Angela closed the door and secured the dead bolt. What would you like to drink?

Stolichnaya vodka on the rocks.

No Stolichnaya, but I have Absolut. Would you like a glass?

Sure, that will do for now, but from now on, keep Stolichnaya in your freezer for me.

Angela returned with two nearly full four-ounce glasses. Here you are, Mr. Terranova.

Thank you, pretty lady, he said and took a small sip.

Angela took a small sip from her glass and swallowed very slowly, savoring the flavor and wondering what could be in store for her.

I can see that you enjoy your vodka, John said.

Mr. Terranova, would you please accept my sincere apology for my discourtesy this afternoon?

How old are you, Angela?

I’m twenty-three. Why do you ask?

Angela, do not ever lie to me. Now, tell me again, how old you are?

Yes, Mr. Terranova, I understand. I’m really only just turned eighteen, but please don’t tell them at the firm, because they think that I’m twenty-three and I really need my job.

So now, tell me everything about yourself, John said in a more menacing voice.

I don’t imagine that I really have a choice now, do I, Mr. Terranova? Angela said, paused, and took a sip of her drink. Then she continued, Well, you know that I’m from New Orleans and that my father was French and my mother came from Trapani, Sicily. The rest of the story is a little weird. My father died in a car crash when I was eight and that left just me and my mother to fend for ourselves. I went to school but had to work to help Mom pay the bills and buy clothes and stuff, while Mom worked two different jobs. Then when I turned twelve, Mom decided that we had to use our wits to make more money. So we started working the tourist areas, you know.

Yes, I see, John said. So you and your mother both became whores to get by.

No, not really. What I did was lure horny old men to a motel and Mom would take over. In fact, I’m still a virgin, Angela said blushing.

So you are a virgin, but not naïve, and now you insult me the way you did?

Oh, Mr. Terranova, I swear I’m so very sorry for disrespecting you.

Well, let’s go into the bedroom so you can get what you deserve, John said stoically.

Yes, of course, this way, she replied as she turned and walked past the small dining area, down the hall, and into her bedroom.

Oh my god, Mr. Terranova, please don’t do this, she sobbed in fear as the tears began to roll down her face.

*****

Afterward, the two lay side by side in silence until finally John