“Not good. I need Advil and coffee.”
“On it,” he said, and slipped past her.
“Some of my colleagues are coming by soon. They have news and they want to talk to you about stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?” she mumbled, afraid to raise her voice for fear of the throbbing in her head.
“What’s that?” Alfred asked.
She waved him off.
A minute later, the coffee machine in the kitchen sputtered along. He brought her three Advils, and after taking all three, she told Alfred she’d have a shower, and then be down for coffee.
Fifteen minutes after that, she came down the stairs, headache almost gone, ready for a couple cups of coffee when she heard voices. Three men stood in a semi-circle around Alfred.
“Rosina, these are the men I was telling you about. Get a coffee and come join us.”
She tried to determine if they were the kind of men who come to tell you personally that your spouse had been killed.
She took her time preparing her coffee, dreading to hear the news if it was bad.
Finally, she dragged herself to the living room and took a seat, looking for any sign that this would be bad. One man sported a stupid bushy mustache. The other didn’t know how to tie his necktie. It hung too low with the knot askew. The third man seemed nervous, his leg bouncing up and down.
She decided she didn’t want to know their names. She would call them, Tie, Leg, and Stache.
“Rosina, the information we are about…”
Rosina held her hand up for him to stop. “First, is Darwin dead? That’s all I want to know. We can talk for hours if you want, but first, tell me about my husband.”
Stache looked at Leg and Tie in turn. Then he looked back at her. “No, Darwin is not dead. We have confirmation he’s alive. He talked to one of our agents about an hour ago.”
“Ohhh, what a relief,” she said as she set her coffee down on the table by her knee. She bent at the waist and leaned over, holding her stomach.
No one spoke, giving her a moment to digest the news.
When she sat up, she collected herself, adjusted her blouse and took a sip of her coffee. Everyone in the room remained quiet, respecting the moment she needed.
“How did you receive confirmation?” Rosina asked.
“He called your hotel room at the Quality Suites,” Leg answered.
She raised an eyebrow. “My room at the hotel? Why would he do that? He knew I wouldn’t be there. We were supposed to be transported in separate vehicles to this safe house.” She eyed them all and then asked. “What’s really going on?”
“Well, Mrs. Kostas, that’s what we’re here to talk to you about.”
She set here coffee down. “Go ahead,” she said. “I’m listening.”
“Rosina, have you-”
“Mrs. Kostas, please. That’s my name now.”
The men all looked at each other. Tie pulled a folder out of a briefcase beside him and turned to her.
“Mrs. Kostas, do you and your husband ever watch adult movies?”
“Excuse me? What the hell kinda question is that? How dare you?”
“Ma’am, calm down, please. We have our reasons. We will explain. Bear with us. We have to get through our questions first.”
She pulled her legs up under her and sat with her arms crossed.
Can this circus get any worse?
“Have you ever heard of a man named Frankie Gambino?”
“No. Should I have?”
Tie disregarded her question and asked another one of his. “Have you ever shopped at the,” he stopped to refer to his notes. “Adult Emporium and Toys on the corner of Dundas and Dixie in Mississauga?”
“What the hell is this? Why did you come all this way to ask if I use adult toys? Are you insane? My husband is in trouble and you’re asking how kinky we are as a couple? I’m appalled.”
“Ma’am, please take a look at this photo and tell me if you recognize anyone in it.”
Stache leaned forward and handed her an eight by ten. She took it and gasped.
The photo showed the door to what looked like an adult store. It had a red stop sign on it and the number eighteen. The door was open and a man stood there. That man was her husband, Darwin Kostas.
“What is this? My husband doesn’t shop at these kinds of places.”
She didn’t know what to think. She thought she knew him. A million questions raced through her mind. She’d been with him for years and never seen any behavior that would make her think he would shop at a place like that. She would know. Darwin didn’t even look at other women longer than anything cursory. He loved her and only her. He’d asked her to marry him. He stole her away, and her heart. Seeing him in that picture wasn’t what made her cry. It was the embarrassment of not knowing what he was doing in an adult store with four FBI men looking for answers.
Leg stood up. “I’ll get you a Kleenex.” He stepped away.
When he came back, he handed it to her and sat down. “There are other pictures.”
“Wait,” Alfred said. He turned to her. “Are you okay? Do you want to continue?”
Rosina nodded and wiped her eyes. “I’m ready.”
Stache reached into a folder and produced another eight by ten. He handed it to her.
It was the same store, but this time she recognized Vincenzo Fuccini from all the media coverage of his death and her husband’s heroic, as they had put it, timing with his Ford Mustang.
She handed the photo back. “We all know who that man is.”
Stache handed her another. Again, the same store front, but a man she didn’t recognize. This continued for six more photos, all of them men she didn’t recognize.
Stache put all the photos back in his folder and gently placed them into his briefcase.
“Is anyone going to explain to me what this is all about? I think I’ve been patient enough.”
The men looked at each other again with subtle nods.
“We feel you’ve been telling us the truth.”
“Good. I should hope so. How about a little truth from you guys?”
Tie nodded at her. “We agree. It is time we brought you in on this because we may need your help.”
“I get it. You give me something if I agree to do something for you? Is that it? You’re no better than the mafia. Do me a favor and I’ll do you a favor. Look, I’m sorry, but I just want my life back. I want my husband back.”
She started crying again. Leg offered her more Kleenex. She took them, mumbled a thank you and settled back in her chair to listen.
“That adult store has been under surveillance for some time now,” Stache started. “We suspect the Fuccini family use some of their stores as drop points.”
“What’s a drop point?” Rosina asked.
“It’s where payoffs are made. Drugs are distributed too. In an adult store, there are never any kids and the windows are all painted up. No one from the outside can see in. The person making the drop can browse the walls of merchandise and wait until the store is empty. Then he can walk to the counter, drop the message, money, or whatever his purpose is, get paid and leave with a bag full of money. Their bags are always black. You can’t see through them. It’s perfect for what the mob do. That’s why they’re so tied up in the adult business.”
“How does this have anything to do with my husband?”
“It had been rumored for months that the four leading families in Eastern Canada were preparing a meet. Our job was to attempt to find out that location. We have men working undercover but no one knew the exact location. The families all agreed that an outside contractor would be brought in for security during this meeting.”
“I’ll ask again,” Rosina interrupted. “What does Darwin have to do with mobsters and adult stores?”
“That store was the location where the men going to the meet would get their final directions and destination. It happened hours before the meet was to take place. All the men you saw in those photos were representatives of each crime family getting the hangar’s address. You know what happened at that hangar as your husband was also there that night.”
