Omerta - Mario Puzo [55]
Heskow unlocked the door and ushered them inside.
“It’s all ready,” he said. He led them upstairs to the huge trunk in the bedroom and unlocked it. Inside were stacks of money rubber-banded into six-inch bundles, along with a folded leather bag, almost as big as a suitcase. Stace threw the bundles onto the bed. Then the brothers rifled through each stack to make sure they were all hundreds and that there were no counterfeits. They only counted the bills in one stack and multiplied it by one hundred. Then they loaded the money into the leather bag. When they were finished, they looked up at Heskow. He was smiling. “Have a cup of coffee before you go,” he said. “Take a leak or whatever.”
“Thanks,” Stace said. “Is there anything we should know? Any fuss?”
“None at all,” Heskow said. “Everything’s perfect. Just don’t be too flashy with the dough.”
“It’s for our old age,” Franky said, and the brothers laughed.
“What about his kids?” Franky asked. “They didn’t make any noise?”
“They were brought up straight,” Heskow said. “They’re not Sicilians. They are very successful professionals. They believe in the law. And they’re lucky they’re not suspects.”
The twins laughed and Heskow smiled. It was a good joke.
“Well, I’m just amazed,” Stace said. “Such a big man and so little fuss.”
“Well, it’s been a year now and not a peep,” Heskow said.
The brothers finished their coffee and shook hands with Heskow. “Keep well,” Heskow said. “I may be calling you again.”
“You do that,” Franky said.
Back in the city the brothers dumped the money into a joint security safe-deposit box. Actually, two. They didn’t even dip any casual spending money. Then they went back to the hotel and called Rosie.
She was surprised and delighted to hear from them so soon. Her voice was eager as she urged them to come to her apartment at once. She would show them New York, her treat. So that evening they arrived at her apartment and she served them drinks before they all left for dinner and the theater.
Rosie took them to Le Cirque, which she told them was the finest restaurant in New York. The food was great, and even though it was not on the menu, at Franky’s request they cooked him up a plate of spaghetti that was the best he’d ever tasted. The twins could not get over the fact that a fancy restaurant could serve the food they liked so much. They also noted that the maître d’ treated Rosie in a very special way, and that impressed them. They had their usual great time, Rosie urging them to tell their stories. She looked especially beautiful. It was the first time they had seen her dressed formally.
Over coffee, the brothers gave Rosie their present. They had bought it at Tiffany’s that afternoon and had it wrapped in a maroon velvet box. It had cost five grand, a simple gold chain with a diamond-encrusted locket of white platinum.
“From me and Stace,” Franky said. “We chipped in.”
Rosie was stunned. Her eyes became watery and gleaming. She put the chain over her head so that the locket rested between her breasts. Then she leaned over and kissed both of them. It was a simple sweet kiss on the lips that tasted of honey.
The brothers had once told Rosie they had never gone to a Broadway musical, so the next night she was taking them to see Les Misérables. She promised them they would really love it. And they did, but with a few reservations. Later, in her apartment, Franky said, “I don’t believe he didn’t kill the cop Javert when he had the chance.”
“It’s a musical,” Stace said. “Musicals don’t make sense even in the movies. It’s not their job.”
But Rosie disputed this. “It shows Jean Valjean has become a really good man,” she said. “It’s about redemption. A man who sins and steals and then reconciles with society.”
This irritated even Stace. “Wait a minute,” he said. “The guy started off a