MURDER TAKES TIME

Chapter 23

 

Another Funeral

 

Rosa’s arrangements were handled by Jimmy Maldonaddo, same place Pops went. The prison guards got me there late, but they let me go in without cuffs. The only stipulation was that I couldn’t associate with anybody but Tony or his brothers.

Bugs and Suit were in the next room. When I waved to them, Bugs stepped toward the front of the room. My heart stopped. Angie stood behind him, looking as if she were the angel sent by God to get Mamma Rosa. She smiled and waved at me, mouthing something I couldn’t make out. She tried to come see me, but the guards stopped her. Suit said something to her, and she turned toward him. When she did, I noticed her stomach seemed swollen. 

Goddamn. She’s pregnant. It had been six months since I was in prison…She didn’t look that pregnant. 

I asked Tony but he didn’t know anything or, if he did, he wasn’t saying. I knew some women didn’t show much until near the end, but still...I buried the emotion and focused on Tony. Had to help him.

It was a huge wake. I knew by the time the night was over there would be hundreds attending. Tony was proud. I was too. When it was my turn, I went to the casket, knelt and blessed myself. I said my prayers, then closed my eyes and prayed some more. This was a woman who deserved a path straight to heaven, and I wanted to make sure God knew that. Afterwards, I stood, leaned in and kissed her forehead. I took a picture of me and Angie from my pocket and placed it next to her. Then I laid her wooden spoon next to her left hand, half expecting her to reach out and grab it. With a final sign of the cross, I left, delivering myself to the guards, patiently waiting by the door.

As I was leaving, Tony handed me an envelope. “This is from Mamma.”

I tucked it into my pocket, then went out with the guards. They asked to check the envelope, but they didn’t open it, just felt for weapons before handing it back. As I left the funeral home, I wondered again about Angie. Was I nuts, or was she pregnant? I had to find out. And if she was pregnant, was the baby mine? 

It has to be. She wouldn’t be with anyone else.

#

Once back in my cell, I pulled the letter out and started to read.

Dear Nicky:

My sweet ‘Little Nicky.’ How I will miss you now that I am gone. You were my sixth child. My baby. I know you are suffering where you are. And I know what you sacrificed for Tony and the other boys. I will never forget you for that. What hurts me the most is what happened with Angela. I loved Angela. If you were my sixth child, she was my seventh. I loved her like the daughter I never had.

Someday you two will be back together. You were made for each other. Even an old woman like me could tell that.

It will be tough for you, Nicky. Prison does more than confine a man. It strips him of his freedom, pride and self-confidence. You must overcome all that. Don’t allow them to do to you what they do to the others. I know you, Niccolo Fusco. I held you when you were coughing blood as a baby. I bathed you in alcohol when the fever almost took you. And I watched over you and prayed when every other sickness came through and—with God’s blessing—spared you.

You have the strength to do whatever you want to do. But you must remember, Nicky: Your life is what you want it to be. Always remember—God and Satan both have room for one more soul.

Ti voglio bene,

Mamma Rosa

 

I folded the letter neatly. Perfectly. Then I tucked it into the envelope and slid it under my pillow.

I swear, Mamma Rosa. I will never do you wrong again. Ever.