9. Ladies in Charge

McCall made a noon reservation for one at Dominic's. He arrived dressed his impeccable best, took a seat and ordered lunch. He had finished his salad when four women, all freshly coiffed and well dressed, entered the restaurant. The maitre' d fawned over Mrs. Bonnano and her friends, welcoming them by name as they entered.

McCall smiled politely, even flirtily, in the direction of Mrs. Bonnano and her friends. They smiled back; one giggled. When they sat down, McCall sent them a bottle of wine, despite the maitre' d's discouragement. "Are you sure? Do you know who that is?"

"Pretty ladies, of course. Ones who would never decline a glass of wine from an admirer."

McCall was right. The ladies accepted the wine, gushed at the attention, and smiled his way. McCall continued to glance at Mrs. Bonnano periodically. She noticed. After the fourth or fifth eye contact, which included a wink, Mrs. Bonnano stood, picked up her glass of wine and approached McCall. The girlfriends were positively tittering.

"May I join you for a moment?"

"It would be my greatest pleasure if you did, Madam," McCall said as he stood.

"Thank you for the wine. It was a lovely gesture."

"You're most welcome."

"Not many men would have had the courage to make it."

"May I inquire why, Madam?"

"My name is Barbara Bonnano."

"I am fully aware of that."

She smiled as if caught, but totally unafraid. "What do you want?"

"A few moments of your time, nothing more."

"All right."

"It's about Elise Cantrell."

"I don't know anyone by that name."

"You full well do, Madam," McCall said. Mrs. Bonnano rose to leave. McCall extended his hand to discourage it. "Please stay. I will call her by her proper name, if you prefer. Lisa Scarletti."

"Shush."

"Then I take it you have not made her resurrection common knowledge?"

"No."

"Do you intend to?"

She stared at McCall. "What business is it of yours?"

"I am an intermediary attempting to help defuse tensions, nothing more."

"Tell me more."

"I am here to assure you that Ms. Cantrell's business here has nothing whatsoever to do with your family. She poses no threat to you."

"Then she hasn't left, has she?"

"She has unrelated business to conclude; then she will be gone. I can give you assurances of this."

Barbara Bonnano took a sip of her wine and put the glass down. "She made a promise to me before. She broke her word."

"She did not kill herself as agreed," McCall said.

Mrs. Bonnano's stare confirmed to McCall that that had been the deal she made with her daughter. "Now she has the nerve to come back here. How could I not take that as a threat?"

"This restaurant was simply a favorite of the gentleman she was seeing."

"Mr. Kostmayer. He turned out to be an unfortunate choice of target from what I hear."

"Yes, a little patience on your end might have been warranted."

"I was patient for thirty-seven years. Patience is not rewarding."

"I understand. All I ask is that you call off the dogs. Let her be, as she will let you be."

"I have a great deal at stake now, much more than before."

"I understand. Again, you were never the target. She made a mistake."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"I give you my word of honor."

Barbara Bonnano laughed throatily. "I do believe you, Mr. McCall. I agree to call off the dogs, provided she stays far away." Mrs. Bonnano began to rise. McCall put again his hand on hers and she sat back down.

"One last question, Mrs. Bonnano. Does anyone else know about her, anyone whose cooperation may be a problem?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"You have told no one?"

"No."

"You have not engaged anyone who might recognize her as you did?"

"No. Had Joey Jr. been here that evening, he might have recognized her. As it stands, he knows only of Elise Cantrell. I will instruct him to drop the matter." Mrs. Bonnano rose to leave.

McCall rose as she did. "I appreciate your willingness to listen, Mrs. Bonnano. If you have any further concerns or need to reach me, here's my card."

McCall picked at the remainder of his now cold lunch while he waited for the waiter to return. He felt vaguely pleased with himself. At the same time, he felt vaguely unsatisfied. He worried how well Barbara Bonnano could control information or what her husband or stepson did. Also, a loose end in the matter niggled at his brain: the snitch who'd ratted Lisa out all those years ago. The waiter arrived, temporarily distracting McCall. "Just the check," he said, as he pondered whether he dare approach Mrs. Bonnano a second time, regretting ground uncovered earlier.

On his way out, McCall circled towards the ladies' table. "I hope you all enjoy the wine and your lunch. It was a pleasure to speak to you, Madam," he said. "Please do call," McCall said softly. McCall rated the chance of that low based on the look that crossed Barbara Bonnano's eyes, one that said "we're done."

After McCall left, he called Mickey. "I have received assurances from the Bonnano family that no further attempts will be directed at Ms. Cantrell."

"How the hell did you do that?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets."

"Do you think that it's over then?"

"No. There are several wild cards that worry me still."

"Oh."

"I am making further inquiries to assess the situation. I will keep you updated."

McCall checked his answering machine next. Vincent came through.

"Friday night, at a warehouse across the river, it's a blow-out extravaganza from what I hear. At least two fighting rings with six cards apiece, ladies' fighting, table gambling and, um, well the girls I mentioned. I'll drop off a flyer at your apartment."

Jackpot, McCall thought, except that Vincent didn't mention drugs. McCall knew those were sure to be present in the midst of gambling and the sex trade. With time and place in hand, McCall's task was to plan an entry that would not alarm the Bureau who would be watching from cameras and possibly from inside too. McCall ran through his list of Asian contacts. In just a few calls, he found a volunteer eager to return a favor. Together, they thought through the problem and settled on a plan. McCall called a meeting and briefed the team. After he laid out a schematic of the facility, roles were assigned.

"Ginger, you will be Mr. Wu's date. Knock yourself out. Hide the piece well, because bags will be searched. Jimmy, Vinny and I shall be Australian businessmen on holiday who are guests of Mr. Wu."

Both Mickey and Jimmy cast incredulous glances at McCall.

"Okay, nix that, Vinny. I'll get back to you shortly. Mickey, you are to attempt to come in as a trainer for Ms. Cantrell's gym. I trust that with effort you shall find a way inside by late afternoon. If you can manage to carry in some hardware, all the better. If you fail at that, you will rendezvous with us and enter as part of Mr. Wu's party."

"And me?" Vinny asked.

"You stay on the outside. Keep us posted on the Bureau's movements and watch for any sign of the Bonnanos."

"Once we are inside, McCall?" Jimmy asked.

"Our sole goal is to see that Ms. Cantrell safely leaves the premises. Though I would prefer that to happen before her match, I do not expect it probable."

"If it's her bust, she's not going to leave easily," Mickey said.

"I'm quite certain that the Bureau does not intend to enter until after the customers have departed and the organizers are cleaning up the operation. I further expect the plan is for Ms. Cantrell to leave after her fight and to join her fellow agents for the raid. If all goes smoothly, we shall do nothing to interfere with that plan. I have given my word as to that."

"So what do you think might go wrong?" Jimmy asked.

"The dangers to Ms. Cantrell are several fold. Mrs. Bonnano may have failed to intercede as promised, though I rate those chances low. Alternatively, Joey Bonnano may not honor his stepmother's wishes in this regard. Consequently, study the photos of the Bonnano family and keep alert for their presence on the scene."

"Um, wait a minute," Ginger asked. "Why would the Bonnanos go there instead of just taking care of her elsewhere? I mean, if they want the Chinese to do it, couldn't they just call?"

"Accept as a given that the Bonnanos know Ms. Cantrell is a federal agent. Assume they know or might learn of her efforts in pursuing the Chinese mob. Consider that they may even know that a raid is imminent, down to the intended timing of the raid. How do they derive value from the situation?" McCall asked.

"Show up, extract a lopsided bargain and leave before the trouble starts," Mickey said.

"What would be the most inopportune time for the Bonnanos to expose Ms. Cantrell?" McCall asked.

"When Elise is in the ring," Mickey answered. "Shit."

"Go to the head of the class, or in your case, the highly exposed trainer's corner."

"What you say means there's a Bureau snitch involved, doesn't it?" Jimmy asked.

"Yes; one loyal to the Bonnanos."

"What do you expect would happen if it goes down that way, if she's outed while in the ring?" Ginger asked.

"Ms. Cantrell, in effect, would be a hostage in a pen."

"Not for long. They'd take her out with them to keep the Bureau at bay," Mickey said.

"Correct, although none of this may occur. If it does, we must be prepared to intercede as the situation may dictate," McCall said. "Take home your folders and I shall see you all tomorrow. Mickey, stay behind please."

After escorting the group out, McCall poured two scotches, neat. "Do you feel you shall be able to play this my way, Mickey?"

"If it's working, sure."

"That is not what I asked."

"It's the best answer I can give."

"Are you in love with this woman, Mickey?"

Mickey shrugged again.

"Until you are honest with yourself, how am I to trust you?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. "I care a great deal for her, in love, well, those just aren't words we ever got around to."

"If you get another chance to exchange such words, would you?"

"I . . .."

"For Chris-sakes, Mickey, you are forty years old. I should think you could say the words without blushing."

"Yes, I would."

"Even though there is much about her you do not know?"

"Unless you tell me she's a traitor, I doubt much of it would make a difference, any more than my past would to her."

"No, all I mean is that her past may greatly complicate her future, if she is to have one."

"I get that she has enemies out there. The Bonnanos are bad ones to have."

"Remaining in the city will not be an option for her."

"The Bonnanos, I get it."

"Now, back to my original point."

"Lost it," Mickey said.

"Will you do as I say?"

"Which is what?"

"Apart from attempting to pass on the assurance from Mrs. Bonnano, you will separate yourself from Ms. Cantrell as much as possible during the proceedings. I need you alert and focused."

"I won't do anything stupid."

"The last time you let emotion cloud your work, you got shot."

"Never gonna live that one down, am I?"

"I hope you shall live to remember it when you are 100."

"That's nicer than wishing the fleas of 1000 camels infest your armpits, I guess."

"I want you to study the faces from the Bonnano files very well, Mickey. Consider them your fleas. Knowing these faces may save both your lives." He passed a bigger folder to Mickey than he had given the others. Mickey shuffled through the pictures quickly, too quickly.

"Okay, done."

"I said study, Mickey,"

"A bunch of this stuff's from back in the seventies, McCall. What's the point of studying pictures that old?"

"They say you can lead a horse to water . . ." McCall flashed frustration. "I am going out for a short walk. I shall expect better of you when I return."

McCall's walk lasted ten minutes. The rest of the time he spent in his Jag making telephone calls, working on details, and waiting for the call from Barbara Bonnano that wasn't coming. Forty-five minutes later, McCall returned. Mickey sipped from a refilled glass of scotch.

"Are we attempting to kill the few brain cells that remain, Mickey?"

Mickey had a picture of Lisa Scarletti and one of Elise Cantrell in front of him. "Okay, I see the similarity. Does this mean what I think it does?"

"Yes."

"You've known all along?"

"For a while now. What was told to me, was told in confidence."

"There was no dead body of Lisa Scarletti at the scene?"

"Faked."

"Dead husband?"

"Yes, killed by her brother in front of her."

"How did it go down?"

"Lisa was working with the Bureau."

"To bring down her own family."

"Yes, but a snitch ratted her out."

"Which led to a shoot out that she somehow survived?"

"It was more complicated than that. Lisa was kept hostage in Scarletti's home when she was outed. Her father wished to punish her. The first act was to send a message to the Bureau via Lisa's father-in-law, the agent who recruited Lisa. He was shot in the leg by a sniper. After that, the elder Scarletti turned Lisa over to her brother with instructions to teach her and her husband a lesson. Johnny Scarletti and his men took Lisa home, suitably restrained in the trunk of a car, and lay in wait to ambush her husband."

"But Johnny Scarletti and his men ended up dead. How?"

"At some point in the proceedings, Lisa managed to grab a gun and take out the goons. The brother used the husband as a shield, but stabbed him on the way out. Lisa killed the brother then."

"Jesus."

"Afterward, Lisa went to her father's house and killed him."

"She just walked out of a shoot-out unharmed, waltzed into the mob boss's home after she'd already been found a turncoat, and killed him?"

"That is the general story."

"I don't get it. Why didn't she just call it in then? Going back to kill the father was insanely risky."

"The instinct to seek revenge is a powerful one. She had no shortage of motivation."

"How could she even get in?"

"She had assistance: her mother."

"Her mother?"

"Yes. She called her mother. The mother met her, picked her up and returned with Lisa hidden in the car. On the way, I believe that she and Lisa hatched a plan. Together they planned to kill John Scarletti. One or both of them did just that. The mother feigned discovery of the body several minutes later, and then made a ruckus that allowed Lisa to escape unnoticed."

"This is the same woman who had me run down last week and had a bomb placed in her daughter's apartment?"

"Yes, Barbara Scarletti became Barbara Bonnano."

"Why would she have helped her daughter escape then and tried to kill her now?"

"Until last week, the mother truly believed that Lisa was dead."

"If all you say is true, you think she would have been relieved to find out otherwise."

"Given the nature of the reunion, she jumped to conclusions. She believed that Lisa had deceived her and posed a threat to her new life, a life much more to her liking than her old one. Moreover, you must remember, in Mrs. Bonnano's world, not keeping a promise justifies lethal force."

"What promise didn't Lisa keep?"

"Lisa was supposed to kill herself."

"Holy Christ, what kind of mother would ask such a thing?"

"I don't think there was anything cruel in it from her point of view. I expect she knew that Lisa soon would be dead one way or the other. If not by her own hand, there would be retribution by John Scarletti's associates. I expect that before she sent Lisa off, she may even have thanked her."

"You're saying that Barbara Scarletti wanted her husband dead?"

"He was a brutal man. He taught his son to be just as brutal."

"Even so, you would think that the mother would have been upset about Lisa killing the son and not have helped her. According to the official file, his face was cut up beyond recognition."

"There are lines once crossed that may never be forgiven, Mickey, even by a mother. Johnny Scarletti grew up under a brutal code."

"I know it. Something like 'fuck with me, I fuck you twice over.'"

McCall stared out the window. "Yes."

"I'm missing something, aren't I?"

"Yes. Lisa Scarletti did not escape unharmed from her brother that night, far from it."

"What else happened?"

"She was beaten too. Her brother didn't stop there, however. He took the family code quite to heart."

"Jesus, you don't mean that literally? You can't mean that?"

McCall sighed. "I suspect the mother blamed the father, as well she might, for all John Scarletti Jr.'s lessons on treating women came from him. I further suspect that Barbara Scarletti had endured more than her fair share of mistreatment at the father's hands. Motive and opportunity for revenge presented itself; Barbara Scarletti may have welcomed it."

"But with the condition that her daughter kills herself? That's fucking nuts."

"Imagine Lisa's state of mind at the time. Suicide might have been an attractive option."

"But Lisa didn't kill herself."

"She intended to. First, however, she called her father-in-law to tell him what happened. He persuaded her to go to a safe house instead. He pleaded with her."

"Witness protection program?"

"More or less."

"Then rebirth as Elise Cantrell?"

"Yes. She went back to work, her strong sense of justice unabated, her approach wiser."

"Yet she came back to New York. How the hell could the Bureau let her do that?"

"She had skills and talents they wanted here. Just like Control said, the game is changing. Agents with knowledge of Chinese and Arabic are the wave of the future. Ms. Cantrell has that. The Bureau and she probably concluded that if she stayed away from certain places, her chances of staying anonymous in the city were reasonably good. No one thought that would be a problem for her. She had a reputation as a workaholic. If she wasn't at work, she was at the gym or sleeping."

"Then I insist on taking her to Little Italy to eat. Why the hell didn't I just back off when she hesitated?"

"How could you have ever suspected? That was her decision, her risk to take, at least, she thought that way until you were hurt to get to her."

"Why are you finally telling me this now?"

"I did not tell you that which I was under obligation to keep secret. You figured it out. The rest, well, you'll need to know it going forward."

"Elly is Lisa Scarletti, right. I never really knew much about the end of Scarletti's reign; I was overseas a lot then until, well, you remember."

"I'm not saying her past should matter, just that you should know. That way you'll know what else may lurk out there."

"It's not like she knows that about me, McCall, what could jump out of my past. Plenty of it isn't pretty."

McCall saw the overprotective net he tried to draw for Mickey. "No, that's true. Go home and sleep. Let us hope tomorrow goes well."