The table in the conference room was littered with stacks of files, papers and photos. Eames stood at one end of the room with Deakins, their attention focused on two officers who stood at the other end of the room. The lead detective, an experienced officer named Jerry Edmonds, paced as he talked. "Back in the day, Frank Masucci and Carlo Gambisi were close. Gambisi was one of Masucci's most trusted friends. To this day we have no idea what went sour between them, but Gambisi embarked on his own in the early 80s. His syndicate quickly grew to rival Masucci's and the once-friends became bitter rivals. After Frank Masucci's death in 1990, Gambisi's power base increased exponentially. Even though the Masucci family has regained much of the power it lost after Frank's death, Gambisi has not lost any of his. So these two families continue to battle for the title of New York's Top Crime Family.
"Now, Don Carlo is not a young man, and his heir apparent was his youngest son, Rico. When Rico went up for murder last year, that was a blow to the Don. Your missing detective played a vital role in Rico's conviction, despite Don Carlo's attempt to knock him out of commission. We still haven't unraveled his motivation for last year's kidnapping since he let Goren live.
"We reviewed all the evidence you gave us in this latest kidnapping, and we agree with your conclusion that the Masuccis are behind it. But we're at a loss to find motivation. Goren hasn't had any direct involvement with a Masucci case that we can find, and we haven't been able to find anything he's done that would bring the wrath of the Masuccis down on him.
"He's been more involved with the Gambisis, but not since Rico went up for murder. So we don't know what to think."
"What about the card Don Carlo sent him last week?" Eames asked.
"An unsigned card containing a typewritten note. The only prints on it were yours and your partner's. There's no proof it came from Don Carlo. We can't run off half-cocked with no evidence at one of the most powerful Dons in the city based on a gut feeling."
"You wouldn't be accusing him of anything," she insisted. "Not if you're sure the Masuccis took him."
"Without knowing why the Masuccis took him, we're not going near Gambisi."
"So, what? That's the end of it? My partner is another sacrificial offering to the Masucci crime gods?"
"Eames," Deakins said softly. He touched her arm and said, "You gentlemen are supposed to be the experts on these organized crime families. You don't know why Goren was taken, so you find out. Put out your feelers, talk to your contacts, do whatever it is you need to do, but find my detective."
Edmonds nodded. "We'll do everything we can, captain."
Deakins led Eames out of the room. "More flies with honey, Eames," he cautioned. "I know you're upset, but you don't want to alienate yourself from the people who can help."
"So what do we do in the meantime? Sit on our hands and hope for the best?"
"No. You're a detective. You do your job. I'll keep you in the loop."
He patted her on the back and returned to his office. She walked to her desk and sat down, staring at Goren's empty chair as an unwanted image of his blood on the polished wood floor of his living room filled her head. Family. Don Carlo told him that family was most important. He promised that Barb would live to see her baby grow up. But he never promised that I would. She wondered about that as she recalled the words the Don had typed on the note he'd placed in the card Bobby received from him—she had no doubt the card was from Don Carlo. Nothing is more important than family.
There was only one thing she could do. She had to go to see Don Carlo.
Spinning and spinning and spinning...
The world kept twirling around and around. Slowly, he opened his eyes. He could have been on a merry-go-round, like the one at the park when he and Frank were kids. They would take turns on the ride, spinning each other in circles then laughing as they watched each other try to walk.
He raised his hand to his head. Wet and sticky. Blood. Closing his eyes again, he imagined blue sky and white clouds, swirling together in an infinite dance. Spinning...
An inky darkness reached out, tickling the white clouds with its tendrils as it became caught up in the twirling dance, consuming the white and the blue until only the darkness remained.
She was playing a dangerous game and she knew it, but she had nowhere else to go. The OCC didn't seem to be placing their missing officer on their priority list and Deakins had to play the political game. That left her with very few options. She wasn't sure that Don Carlo was involved, but something told her that he was the only person who could help her, and she was desperate. So she began asking questions, seeking out the Don, and she got her wish.
Leaving the office two days after Goren's kidnapping, she walked to her car in the parking garage. They approached her from behind, grabbing her before she had a chance to react. She felt a sharp prick in her arm, followed by a burning sensation as she struggled against the men who held her. Everything around her began to swirl together and she got lost in the swirling river of color that faded to black.
Her mouth was dry. She felt dizzy and nauseous. She groaned, drawing the attention of someone else who was in the room with her. "Relax," came a gentle, female voice. "It'll pass in a minute. Just try to relax."
Slowly, she opened her eyes to look at the woman seated on the edge of the bed. She was older, with eyes that were kind and sad all at the same time. "Who are you?" she asked the woman, her voice hoarse.
The woman gently eased her up and held a glass of water for her to drink. "Just a little. There." She eased her back down. "It will wear off soon. You have been asking around for my husband, Carlo. So he brought you here, to hear what you have to say."
"He could have sent a car without the goons."
"He's a very private man, detective."
"Especially when cops are involved."
"Yes. He has to be careful. If you're feeling better, I can take you to see him."
"The sooner, the better. I need to see him."
The woman helped her to her feet, steadying her. "Are you sure you feel all right?"
"I'm fine. Let's go."
Carlo's wife led her from the room, through several hallways, into a large, poshly furnished office. Behind a large oak desk sat Carlo Gambisi. He smiled at her. "Detective...Eames, is it? It's not often lovely lady cops go around asking for me. What can I do for you?"
"You know my partner."
Gambisi's brow furrowed. "Do I?"
"You sent him a card, Mr. Gambisi. On the birth of his little girl."
"Ah, Detective Goren is your partner? He has it made, then, at work and at home." He smiled at his wife. "I admire a man who surrounds himself with beauty."
Eames ignored his comment. For her partner's sake, she refused to lose her temper with Gambisi. "Do you know the names Eddie DelMonico and Tony Pazzotta?"
One thing she was learning from Bobby was how to read faces, and she saw her answer in Gambisi's face. "I'll take that as a yes."
"Those are two very bad men. What possible business could you have with them?"
"They snatched my partner from his home, Don Carlo."
Gambisi's reaction was a big one, but he quickly got it under control. "His wife and daughter?"
"They weren't home."
She saw relief on his face. "I had nothing to do with it," he insisted.
"I never thought you did. Right now, the organized crime unit is camped out in my squad room, looking through thirty years of files for God only knows what. I know you and the Masuccis are rivals. I know what cases my partner and I are working. There is nothing to tie the two together. They didn't grab him just because he's a cop. They grabbed him because of the interest you have shown in him...and because he's a cop."
"Suspicious bastards," Gambisi muttered, almost under his breath.
"Bobby thought the card you sent could be a veiled threat against him. He remembered your promise that Barb would live to see her baby grow up. He also remembered that you never said that he would."
Gambisi shook his head. "It was never meant as a threat. That was why I didn't sign the card."
"A typewritten note that reminded him of your conversation was sufficient enough to do that."
Gambisi's mouth tightened into a thin line. "Let me be honest with you, detective. I was very impressed with your partner. He stood up to me without backing down. That could be construed as courage or foolishness. I saw fear in his eyes only once, and it wasn't fear for his life, but for hers...for his pregnant lady." He smiled. "Has she made an honest man of him yet?"
Eames tried not to smile, and Gambisi nodded. "She has, or will soon."
"Soon, if he comes home," she admitted.
"He's a good father?"
"He's an excellent father. His daughter adores him."
"Well, then, we will have to see that he makes it home alive."
"Can you...help?" she asked, nearly choking on the last word.
"You are not a woman who asks for help often, especially from a man like me. Your partner is important to you."
"He's very important to me. He's like family."
"You must make a formidable team. He was able to maneuver my son Rico into a confession. Not many people who find themselves in his crosshairs get away with their crimes, do they?"
Eames shook her head. "No. He is unrelenting."
"Like a pit bull. I will have my men escort you back to your car. Thank you for coming to see me, detective."
"My partner?"
"I will see what I can do. You'll hear from me."
She hesitated, studying Gambisi's face. He was sincere. She allowed his wife to lead her from the room and an hour later, she was back at her car. She had mixed feelings about seeking help from a man like Gambisi, but she'd have gone to the devil himself if it would bring her partner home. She had no regrets about that.
It was late. She got into her car and drove home to shower off the filth of Carlo Gambisi and hold a good man in her arms.
