MURDER TAKES TIME

Chapter 65

Martyrs and Saints

Current Day 

Frankie was lost in thought as he drove into the station. It had been over a week and he had nothing, not even a hint that Nicky was watching Tito. Now he was losing Higgins and Sapperstein. When he pulled into the lot, Mazzetti was waiting. “What’s up, Lou?”

“We’re visiting the wonderful community of Valley Stream today. Got another one.”

“Valley Stream? How did we get the call?”

“Special invitation from the shooter. He said you’d want to know.” He lit a smoke then cracked the window a bit, enough to let the smoke drift out. “So tell me again who this Rat guy is.”

Frankie refreshed him on what he knew, but all the while he hoped this wasn’t Nicky. That this was some kind of bad, horrible coincidence. When they got to the scene, the street was filled with cop cars, the crime scene unit, and a handful of reporters. Lou and Frankie flashed their badges and walked in.

A small crowd had gathered in the kitchen. A tall, black deputy eyed Frankie as he approached, holding his hand out. “You Donovan?”

Frankie nodded. “Yeah. And this is Lou Mazzetti, my partner.”

“Bobby Tilton,” he said, then moved toward the dining room. “Let me introduce you to Gianni Mucchiatto. Don’t know him, but he must have pissed somebody off real bad.”

The deputy cleared a path, and when Frankie stepped into the dining room, he damn near threw up. They had left Gianni as they found him, tied to the walls, hands nailed to the floor, and a nail hammered into his face. The look on his face was an expression no one should see. Frankie forced himself to take in the scene. 

Did you do this, Nicky?

“Some friend you got there, Donovan.” Mazzetti lit a smoke, but the crime scene guys stopped him.

Tilton tapped Frankie on the shoulder and nodded toward Mazzetti. “What’s he mean? You know the shooter?”

Frankie shook his head. “I know one of the suspects.”

“You plan on sharing, Detective?”

Frankie smiled. Already it had gone from Donovan to detective. “I’ll send the file, Tilton. We’ve got five now.”

“Five? How come we haven’t heard shit about this?”

Frankie figured he might as well be nice to this guy. It was probably the biggest crime he’d ever had. “FBI thinks there are ties to bigger fish.” Donovan looked around as if he’d said something wrong. “Probably shouldn’t have even told you that.” 

Tilton was suddenly back on Frankie’s side again. “Goddamn FBI. Those bastards are always screwing up an investigation.”

“Tell me about it,” Frankie said. He gestured toward the body. “So what do you have on this guy? Any connections? Priors?”

“Not even a parking ticket.”

Frankie nodded. He was a shooter, all right. And he must have been a good one to stay that clean. He reached out his hand to Tilton. “Here’s my card. I’ll send you the files on what we’ve got. Let me know if you come up with anything. Especially if you get any witnesses.”

“You got it.”

#

As they drove back to Brooklyn, Mazzetti changed the radio station about a hundred times. He was never satisfied with what was playing even if he liked the song.