Chapter 10: The Godfather

It didn't take long for Ranger to jimmy open the door. He slipped inside. It was dark, but there was enough moonlight from the many windows to avoid the furniture and make his way across the living area. The apartment was quiet. He did a quick scan of the interior and then followed the hallway down to the master bedroom where he eased the door open. There were loud snores coming from the enormous four-poster bed across from him. Flipping on the light switch, Ranger quickly glided to the foot of the bed, gun drawn.

The scene before him was surreal. The bed was shrouded along the sides with yards and yards of red brocade drapes, while the mattress appeared to be a deep plush feather bed in which the two occupants were nearly invisible. The first one to pop up was the woman. It was Joyce Barnhardt, in all her naked glory, except for an elaborate headdress made of peacock feathers, with an attached gold eye mask. Much more slowly, a man pulled himself up and leaned back against the padded headboard. He was an elderly man, also naked, but his glory days were long, long ago. On his head was a white powdered wig, slightly askew.

"What the fuck?" Joyce said, staring at Ranger as she shoved the eye mask up onto her forehead.

The old man wasn't so kind. He fumbled in the pile of bed linen until he came up with a sword. He waved it at Ranger and shouted, "I'm going to gut you, you cad. How dare you intrude upon the inner sanctum of the king?" He tried to climb out, but floundered in the deep mattress.

Amidst the chaos happening in the bed, Ranger heard the click of a safety being released. He turned and there was a man in the bedroom doorway pointing a very large gun at him.

"I suggest you slowly lower your weapon and place it on the floor," the armed man said. "Then kick it over to me." He was an older man, but not nearly as old as the man in the bed. He also looked very calm and composed, unlike the man in the bed who looked quite crazy.

Ranger hesitated a moment, and then complied. The man picked up Ranger's gun and tucked it into his waistband. He flicked his gun and told Ranger, "Walk slowly out of the room. The Don doesn't need to upset himself with this." He then glanced over at Joyce, who was sputtering indignities. "Ms. Barnhardt, if you would, please calm Don Tito down. I'm going to have a talk with our intruder."

Joyce screeched, "What the hell are you doing here, Ranger?" She glanced over at the man with the gun. "I know this man, Frank, but I have no idea what he's doing here."

At the same time, the elderly man was also yelling orders, the main one being, "Off with his head. Take him to the guillotine and cut off his head. Now, dammit!"

"Don Tito, I will take care of this intruder. Please, go back to bed," Frank said, then he looked at Joyce. "Don't worry about this guy, Ms. Barnhardt," Frank said, gesturing toward Ranger. "Right now, I need you to take care of Don Tito. He shouldn't get this excited." He again motioned to Ranger to step outside the bedroom.

When Ranger approached the door, Frank stepped back and allowed Ranger to exit and then he quickly shut the bedroom door behind them. There was an audible click. As Ranger walked down the long hallway, he could hear Joyce yelling and pounding on the locked door. By the time they reached the living room, the pounding was muffled and he couldn't hear her yelling anymore.

Frank turned on the lights and indicated that Ranger was to take a seat. While the man seemed composed and in control, he was not particularly threatening, though he did keep his gun trained on Ranger.

Ranger glanced around the room. The furniture looked like something out of a museum. The chairs and sofas were gold and red brocade with ornate legs, the tables were squat things made of wood and had lots of gold embellishments. The walls were covered in fancy striped wallpaper with fleurs-de-lis at the top, and the paintings were all of men and women wearing elaborate costumes and white powdered wigs.

Ranger lowered himself onto one of the high-backed chairs.

Frank took the chair across from him. He removed a cell phone from his coat pocket and texted a brief message, and then looked back up at Ranger. He still had the gun trained on him.

"Frank Santora," the man said. "And you are?"

"Carlos Mañoso," Ranger replied.

"Normally, I'd shoot first and ask questions later, but I don't think you came here to harm Don Tito DeCarlo." Frank paused as he studied the man sitting across from him. Ranger was leaning back in the chair, his forearms resting on the polished wooden arms. "Ms. Barnhardt called you Ranger."

Ranger shrugged. "It's a nickname."

Frank nodded and then went silent. They both sat there for several minutes, not saying anything. Ranger was debating how to approach the subject of a mob kidnapping under his present circumstances.

The front door opened and three men walked in. Two remained by the door and the third man strode across the room to Ranger. He was of average height and weight, but he had an aura of command about him. He was obviously the man in charge. He glanced at Frank and an unspoken communication passed between them. He turned his gaze on Ranger and announced himself, "I'm Salvatore DeCarlo."

Ranger stood, carefully, and held out his hand. "Carlos Mañoso."

DeCarlo hesitated just a moment before shaking Ranger's hand. Then both he and Ranger sat down. "Mr. Mañoso, this is my uncle's apartment. Why did you break in tonight?"

Ranger debated before replying. "I came here to see Joyce Barnhardt."

DeCarlo frowned. "Regarding what, may I ask? You had a gun drawn in my uncle's presence. Are you a former boyfriend of Ms. Barnhardt?"

Ranger resisted an eye roll, and said, "No. She and my fiancé are acquainted, but I wouldn't call them friends. It is important that I speak with Joyce. I think she may have been involved in a situation that happened in Trenton last week."

DeCarlo moved his head slightly sideways, as if in negation. "Ms. Barnhardt has been here for more than two weeks. She hasn't left my uncle's side. What is it that you think she may have been involved in?"

Ranger hesitated briefly. "My fiancé was kidnapped nearly a week ago and held against her will. Fortunately, she was able to escape. The men who held her seemed to have ...um... family connections, and the one calling the shots was a woman, a woman familiar with my fiancé. My investigations led me here."

DeCarlo nodded. "A reasonable assumption, if you just looked at the surface. But, for one, we have nothing to do with the happenings in Trenton. I mean, c'mon, it's Jersey." He gave a slight smile. "And second, as I said, Ms. Barnhardt has been holed up in this apartment for at least two weeks. I have the security tapes to prove it. And she has no control over my men. Neither does my uncle."

Now, it was Ranger's turn to frown. "Your uncle and Joyce..."

DeCarlo made a disgusted sound. "My uncle met Ms. Barnhardt several months ago and became smitten with her. You may have noticed that my uncle can be a little ... eccentric." He spread his arm around the room. "He is obsessed with 18th century France. In fact, he thinks he lives there." DeCarlo blew out a noisy breath. "Mr. Mañoso, if I may be blunt, my uncle has senile dementia. It is no secret to those who know him. I love my uncle, and he was once our Don, and a powerful and intelligent man. To see him like this is hard, but I promised my aunt I would take care of him. Ms. Barnhardt seems to calm him down, and she plays along with his fantasies." He shrugged. "It cuts down on the prostitute expenses."

"Did you hire Joyce to perform ... certain services?" Ranger asked.

DeCarlo snorted. "Hardly. It is my impression that Ms. Barnhardt thinks my uncle is still head of the Family, and that he is rich. She's been trying to get him to marry her for months. My uncle hasn't been active in the business for many years, but because of the man we remember and love, we humor him. We protect him from himself. Ms. Barnhardt seemed like a harmless diversion, but I think she has outworn her usefulness."

Ranger straightened, but DeCarlo waved him down. "Don't worry. No harm will come to her. But her affiliation with my uncle will be terminated. I'll explain to her that he has no money, and I think that will put an end to Ms. Barnhardt and my uncle."

Ranger took all this in. He believed Sal DeCarlo. The evidence was all there, and it sounded like something Joyce would do. But it didn't explain what happened with Stephanie.

"I'm still left with a mob connection in the abduction of my fiancé," Ranger said.

"As I said earlier, we have nothing to do with matters in Jersey. There are several smaller families down there," DeCarlo noted. "Nowadays, we don't have much to do with them, but in my uncle's day, they all knew one another. In Trenton, there's the Salerno family, and I think the Romanos are still active. And Vito Grizzoli. My uncle used to buy Cuban cigars and rum from old Vito. That was one of Grizzoli's specialities, imports from Cuba." He snorted. "That'll be at an end now that the trade embargo against Cuba has been lifted." DeCarlo stood as he told Ranger, "I'm sorry I can't give you more recent information, but times have changed. The New Jersey families are dying out. My family's business is focused here, in New York."

Ranger stood and held out his hand. Sal DeCarlo reciprocated. "I hope you find the men responsible. We don't abduct women. We have never been involved in the prostitution business. My uncle refused to trade in human beings, and I have followed in his footsteps. I wish you well, Mr. Mañoso."

"Thank you for your time and trouble. I'm sorry if I inconvenienced you. You have been very gracious ... and helpful," Ranger said. He turned toward Frank, who retrieved the gun he'd taken from Ranger. He held it out in his upturned palm. Ranger acknowledged Frank with a nod and returned his weapon to its holster.

Sal gave a signal to the men at the door, and they let Ranger depart.