Chapter 3

It was ten minutes past nine before Eva crawled out of her bed and undressed. She entered the bathroom and turned on the bath taps. She stood in a black daze and watched uninterestedly until the bathtub was filled with half warm water. Then she stepped into the bathtub and allowed the water to comfort her despairing body. Her body was burning with pain. She leaned back against the bathtub and closed her eyes, her mind busy with thoughts. After a while, she opened her eyes and stared hard at the white ceilings. Her mind went back to the previous nights, and tears began to fill her eyes. How could he? How could he have done something that terrible to her? Vince had sodomized her brutally and horribly.

Two nights ago, After Vince had forced himself on her, she remembered how she had managed to drag herself into the bathroom, ran a hot bath, crawled into it like a wounded animal, and let the soothing water wash away her pain. Vince, on the other hand, had sat in a lounging chair, smoking a cigarette, a wicked contented grin on his handsome face as he watched her walked into the bathroom. He felt no remorse for what he had done to her. For him, everything that happened was all her fault. They had slept in separate rooms later that night, and the next day, to avoid any confrontation with her, her husband had left the house in a hurry, claiming he had one or two things to do at the casino, which he owned. It was not until he left the house that she saw that her bedsheets were stained with her blood.

Instinctively, she knew her life might be dangerous, and there was a need for her to see a doctor. She could not risk getting treatment for something of that nature in Miami. The gossips would be too much to curtail. She had quickly telephoned a top-class travel agency and had them booked her on a flight going to New York. Though the agony she was feeling down below her was unbearable, She had quickly managed to dress, took her purse, which was stuffed with money and her passport, hired a cab which whisked her down to the airport and a few minutes later, she was on a flight to New York. The doctor she met had asked her lots of personal questions, and she had revealed everything to him, leaving out nothing. He had then prescribed drugs for her to use and had advised her to take a good rest. She remembered his exact words to her.

"Take care of yourself, Mrs. Montreal, and everything would be alright, and of course, this thing you've told me would be regarded as strictly confidential. No one would hear of it." The doctor had told her.

Eva had been satisfied with what the doctor said. She had left the hospital and took a flight back to Miami, and It was not until she returned to the house that she felt safe once again. And now, as she sat in the bathtub, she could not suppress the enormity of the rage she felt towards her husband. Vince had done to her what no man had ever done, and she would repay him. "I will fix you, Vince! I will find a way to set you, and that's a promise," she told herself.

She lay in there for a long time, and finally, when the water was starting to cool, she got out of the tub and walked into the bedroom. Though the drugs the doctor gave her had lessened the pain, the experience was still etched in her mind. Mechanically, she chose a simple floral dress from her closet and wore it. Then she walked out of the bedroom, crossed the room to the kitchen, fix herself a breakfast of ham, eggs, and bacon, ate her meal, and washed it down with black coffee.

A few minutes later, she was out on the terrace, sitting on a reclining chair, looking out at the breathtaking view of the ocean, sky, and the distant hills. She would make him pay for what he did to her, but how would she go about it? She thought. She opened her purse, took out a gold cigarette case, removed a cigarette, and lit one with a gold lighter. She drew in the smoke and let it drift down her small nostrils. But how? She wondered, allowing the smoke to calm her nerves. She began to think hard and fast. Her mind traveled back to the day she had met Vince.

She had run into Vince in a party hosted by one of her male friends who owned a big fashion house. His looks had mesmerized her. He was tall, lean, and powerfully built like a beautiful wild animal. His dark, handsome eyes had excited her, and she had felt a rush of blood through her: something that often happened when she comes across really masculine men. She wanted to have him, to be laid by him as she had never been applied before in her short sexual life. They had taken one look at each other, and that was enough. It was as if they had loved each other even before they met. It was no surprise when they were both married by a priest in the country the following week.

Vince had told her then that he wanted no big wedding.

"I don't like crowds, baby. Just the two of us!" he had said, and she had listened to him even though that was not what she wanted.

After the wedding, gullibly, she had explained her financial situations to him. She had a trust fund, which was enough for her to live on comfortably, but her bulk of wealth was from a large fortune which she was left for her by her dead parent. The capital would only be released to her when she reached the age of thirty. Vince had asked her how much the fortune was worth.

"It's worth millions," she had replied simply.

"You are twenty-nine, right?" He asked.

"Yeah! I would clock at thirty come August!"

Vince then did a little calculation in his head.

"Wow! we are now in March! five months to this time, you'd be worth millions."

"Billions of dollars," Eva corrected. "This fortune is worth millions, and all together with the money I already have, we could be talking billions, my love. All this wealth would be ours. everything belongs to you and me."

Vince did not believe he had married an heiress, and he even made her repeat the sum just for the sake of reassuring himself. She repeated what she had told him, and ever since that day, more and more, he talked to her about nothing except the fortune.

"Think about it, Eva! Think of what we could do with all that money. We'll own the world, baby!" He will say to her. It was then Eva began to realize that he was greedy. He was not a content man. He wanted more and was ready to do anything to get it.

A few months later, her marriage began to crumble when she started to suspect that her husband, who though loved claimed to love her, was also interested in her for selfish gains, and not only that, she had been so often disappointed with their lovemaking. Though there was foreplay, he did it mechanically, as though it was a duty to be disposed of. He was more demanding, less giving. He was only in love with her money, and his attitudes and behavior over the past few months was a witness to her suspicions.

It first started in a small, harmless way. She would be expecting Vince home for dinner, and when he came, he would shout at her, telling her he was not hungry. She would inquire from him what the problem was, and he would complain to her about the fortune she was to inherit.

"But you've got enough money, darling," she would tell him.

"Yeah! I have got enough, but I want your money, Eva! I want you to give me the chance to be able to control all your wealth. Think of what we could accomplish. It's not bad to want the money of my wife, or is it?" he would say to her.

Eva was terrified. She had not even inherited a bulk of her fortune, and her husband was already demanding for it. Her husband was a greedy man who was only interested in her for her money. She had never believed that the word gold digger could be used for a man. But there it was; her stinkingly rich husband was the real epitome of the word. For months, he exhausted every argument he could think of. He cajoled, raged at her, and offered her more love, but she was not moved, which was when the beating started. He would complain of any little thing, and when she confronts him, he would shout at her and beat her up, and the pulse got worse when he found out she was cheating on him, a sign of retaliation on her part. Eva could no longer hide from herself that she was not in love with Vince, and their marriage had been a terrible mistake. She had suggested to Vince that they should break up.

"We ain't breaking up, baby. I love you, and I'll kill any man that comes near you!" He would threaten her.

That was when she knew he was insane. The thoughts of owning her money had twisted something in his head. Eva shifted uncomfortably on the lounge chair and dragged on the cigarette. She had a feeling that something terrible was going to happen to her if she did not find a way to leave Vince. The only thing she could think of was to cheat on him as much as possible. Vince was the jealous type. She knew he hated seeing her with men, and this was what she was going to use against him. Maybe when he realized that she was no longer in love with him, he would take his mind off her. Yes! That's what she was going to do. She must take the bull by the horn. She must prove to Vince she was no longer in love with him. One way or the other, she has to burn that idea into his head. But one part of her mind kicked against the idea.

Her husband was a selfish, dangerous, and violent man. A deranged psychopath who had no regard for anyone. Inwardly, she knew her husband would never stand the idea of anyone cheating on him most, especially his wife. He would find a way to punish her and might even go to the extent of harming any man he sees with her. If she was to cheat on him, Eva knew it had to be done discreetly. If only she could find her a way to make him give her the divorce. That would make everything a whole lot easier. Indeed, there must be a way, she thought. There must be a way to get what she wanted from Vince, or maybe she could ask someone how she could go about it. But who? She thought. Who could she ask? She wondered. She had gone out with the few friends while still modeling, but they were airheads who were only interested in expensive shoes, bags, and money. So who could she turn to? She thought again.

Just then, Eva remembered the man he had knocked down at the birthday party, and a cold chill ran through her body. She had almost forgotten about him. What was his name? she thought and began to think fast. She bit her lower lip tightly until she tasted blood. When her brain could not come up with anything, Eva drew in a long slow breath and brooded for a moment. The stress of everything she was passing through had made her thoughts slip away from him. She hoped he was alright wherever he was. Though she had forgotten his name, the idea of him had not left her. There was something about him. Something different from any other man she had dated. Eva had seen the looks in his eyes. This man wanted her. It was crystal clear.

She thought of the kiss and how he had suckled her breasts, and a smile tugged at her lips. The kiss had been so hot and igniting. It had set her whole body ablaze. "Will I ever see him again?" she wondered. Inwardly, Eva knew she wanted to see him also, and yet she was afraid. She was scared of falling in love with him. She had known many lovers in her life. Men were necessary to her even right before she had met Vince. The physical act of having sex at intervals was essential to as food. She knew she was not the fall over heels in love with you, girl, and yet, she had fallen in love with Vince even to the extent of him marrying her. He had taught her a lesson. Men were not to be trusted.

The man she had met at the birthday party was no different from any other man that had approached her. They always wanted something from her. If it's not sex, then it would be love. This man at the birthday party was no exception. She knew his type. He was a man looking for a woman who would love him. Eva knew she could never be that kind of woman. I will have to avoid him, she told herself. He wants love, but I don't like it.

What she wanted was a man who wanted nothing from her except the mere moments of bringing themselves sexual pleasure. A man who wanted no strings attached. Also, he must be able to get her the gift of laughter and joy. He must be able to make her forget all her worries and problems. With these thoughts, she leaned back into the chair and pushed the ideas of the handsome man from her mind.

************

Gino Rissi and four of his men sat around a table in the center of the room. They were playing poker. The table was littered with chips, playing cards, whisky glasses, ashtrays crammed with cigarette butts, and a bottle of whisky. These four men were the rigid types one can see any day in Miami's sleazy, dirty areas. Their clothes, dirty, their faces burned brown by the sun, we're sweaty, hard and vicious, menacing-looking .38 automatic holstered to their hip pockets, and their hands, clammy with sweats, always itching to start trouble.

But their leader, Gino Rissi, was quite different. He was tall and heavily. He had icy-grey eyes, blue-black hair, an aquiline nose accentuated with thin lips. His eyesight was always glittering like that of a hungry fox. Etched on the left side of his cheek was a five-point crown tattoo. But the most notable feature of him was that he was always dressed in an expensive Italian suit and an impressive black cloak.

Gino Rossi was one of the slickest con men in Miami Beach. He was an intelligent, calculating man. Anyone with a lot of money was a sucker to Gino. He was always full of funny, crazy ideas of laying his hand on some serious cash with only his brain to help him. What scared most people about Gino was his tattoo. It added terror and viciousness to his fearful face.

Most importantly, it serves as a reminder of the gang Gino belonged to. For the past three years, Gino Rissi had been running the Latin gang, and for that same three years, he had built the gang's reputation. They had made a great deal of money, and they were not doing badly. The other crews regarded them as harsh and deadly. Without Gino's ingenuity, ruthlessness, the Latin king gang would not have gone far. Gino was a hideous, cunning man, and every member of the team was afraid of him.

"I win again," Gino said, tossing a card on the table, jeering lights in his eyes.

The other men looked at the card he had tossed and grunted in response. They knew Gino was always cheating when it comes to the game of poker, but none of the men dare challenge him or say anything that may incur his wrath.

"You're always winning, boss," one of the men said. "I'm still hoping for the day you would let us win."

Gino gave him a wolfish smile, revealing his six-gold capped teeth. "Don't hope too much! You'll surely die waiting."

Suddenly, the men in the room stiffened when a powerfully built man came into the room. His eyes were grey; his face was deadpan and cold.

Gino Rissi stared at the man, bored expression on his face.

"Do you have him?" he asked, staring at the man.

The man nodded his head slowly.

Gino grunted, grinned, and turned his attention back to the man on the table. Then he got to his feet.

"Pack up, guys; I've got an unfinished business to attend to."

The men needed no further urging. They all rose to their feet simultaneously, pushing their chairs back. Gino was already at the entrance, where the man who had interrupted them, now stood, stiffed.

"Where did you find him?" Gino asked, in a low voice.

"Sunset harbor. He was waiting for a getaway ship."

"Where is he now?" Gino continued.

"In the basement of my room. I fixed him up pretty bad."

"Good work, Harry" Gino beamed at him, and he turned to face the other men, who had been waiting patiently for him. "Let's move, boys," he said.

All the men went out into the hot, airless night. They were all dressed in black; their back hunched, their faces tight and taut, and their lips curved to a menacing angle. Huddled together as they walked the streets, they made quite an impression on the people who came across them. Seeing the deadly look on the faces of Gino and his men, these people jumped out of their way like frogs thrown into the hot oil.

The men made their way through the milling crowd and walked down a cul-de-sac. Then, Harry led the way down a smelly alley lined on either side by two-story, weather-beaten buildings. They stopped outside an old looking laundry shop; it was below this shop that Harry had two rooms. They walked through the narrow stairs that led to Harry's place. The men all waited while Harry unlocked the door and turned on the lighting. Then, they all entered the sparsely furnished room and locked the door. Only Gino looked around the room. In his immaculate suit, he looked out of place.

This place belongs to a pig! Gino thought, a look of disgust on his face. The walls had damp stains. The rug was threadbare and filthy. In the corner of the room was a divan bed: the sheets and the bed were dirty and stained. There was a scarred table against the wall. On it stood empty bottles of whisky, stained glasses, and an ashtray crammed with cigarette butts. A naked electricity light bulb hung from the ceiling, casting a harsh light over the room's sordidness.

Harry went into the inner room while Gino and his men waited for him. A few moments later, he came into the room, dragging a man by his hair with him. The man was naked waist up. His mouth had been taped, and his hands and legs were tied with corded ropes. There were bruises all over his body, and his eyelids were puffy from the punches he had received on his face. On sighting Gino, who stood watching him, his face expressionless, he began to whimper, his voice muffled by the tape around his mouth. A striking slap from Harry cut off the whimpering. Harry dragged the man to Gino's feet and moved away, in the way a snake-hater moves from a snake.

Gino looked at the man who was whining now, in a low tone, and he bent over him and whipped the tape from his mouth. The restraint freed from his mouth; the man began to talk rapidly.

"Please, Gino! You've got to listen to me. All this is a mistake. A big mistake. I did not know it was you, I swear. Please, spare me."

Gino, regardless of him coldly.

"You are dead! Nobody steals from me and get away with it."

The human-made grabbed Gino's feet, but he shifted away from him. Harry, a deadly look on his face, raise his leg to dish out a vicious kick to the man's rib, but Gino raised his hand.

"No! you'll deal with him later!" Gino said. "Leave him to me now."

Harry moistened his lips, eyed the man angrily, and moved away. Gino took out a platinum case from inside his pocket. He brought out a cigar and lit it. Then he squatted in front of the man lying on the floor so that they were both staring at each other intently. Then he blows thick smoke into the man's face. Unprepared for this, the man inhaled the smoke and began to cough violently.

"You're coughing, right?" Gino sneered. "You better cough out my money. Come on, talk to me, where is my money? Where did you keep it?"

"I don't have any money with me anymore," the man rasped. "It's all gone. I gambled away every last penny. You've got to believe me. You've got to."

Gino drew on his cigar. The end glowed like a warning signal.

"Then, you'll die! Since you can't give me my money, then I think you should die. If you can't give me my money, surely you can give me your life. It's the least of things you could do for me."

Like a small child who had suddenly been deprived of his lollypop, the man began to weep now. Gino ignored him, and he looked around the room until his eyes rested on Harry.

"Fix him!" Gino snarled. "I want all of you to fix him. I don't care how but just fix him. I'm going for a walk now; as soon as I'm out of here, I want to hear him scream."

"Gino!" the man screamed. "Don't leave me with them, please. I haven't got any money. Please."

Gino stood up and walked to the door. Then he turned around to see his men converging slowly on the screaming man, a menacing expression on their faces. Gino hunched his shoulders and moved out of the room. As he began to walk through the narrow stairs, a dreadful cry of terror and despair tore through the door, past him into the dimly lit confines of the building, and he grinned to himself.

Gino walks through the streets, his mind busy with thoughts. He got to a bar and strolled in. He walked over to the barman and sat upon a stool. The barman who had been wiping the already glistening countertop looked up to see who it was. He stiffened to attention, a fake smile spreading across his face.

"Mr. Rissi, It's nice to see you," The barman said, "What can I get you?"

"Double whisky on the rocks," Gino said curtly. The barman recognized immediately that Gino was in no mood to talk. He went to fix the drink and came back, sliding the whisky glass to Gino. The ice in the glass chinked as Gino lifted it to his lips. He swallowed the drink in a gulp and shivered slightly as the drink stiffened his nerves. He nodded to the barman to refill it. His glass was filled, but this time he only took a sip, then he allowed his mind to dwell on the present situation facing him. He needed money, and he knew he needed it fast. Gino thought about the man he had told his men to fix and grimaced.

Abdul Mendoza, for that, was his name had cheated him in a game of roulette. Gino was a heavy gambler, and he was known in almost all the casinos in Miami city. He remembered vividly that on the night, Abdul had cheated him, he had won five hundred thousand dollars. To him, it was little money, and yet he wanted more. For that reason, he had continued to play. Then Abdul had come on board. One look at Abdul's face had told him the man would be a dangerous gambler. He had taken one look at the man's small built, twinkling bright eyes and his shabby clothes and had told himself that he could handle Abdul alright. How wrong he was. By the time the game was through, he had lost all the money to the shabby looking Abdul. That night, Gino nearly went mad with rage. To have let that kind of money slipped through his hand was a heavy blow to his guts.

With his men, Gino had left the casino that night, but he had made sure one of his men tailed Abdul Mendoza home. That man was Harry. Harry had followed Abdul home, listened to his conversations on the phone, and had found out everything about Abdul. Harry had telephoned Gino three days later. He had discovered that Abdul was a small-time gambler who often planned with dubious croupiers to rip stupid, ignorant speculators off their winnings. This information had told Gino one thing; the game between Abdul and him had been fixed. But Abdul had made a mistake. He did not know who Gino Rissi was in Miami city. Gino then had ordered Harry to get hold of Abdul for him, and Harry had done just that. Abdul had been fixed, but that did not bring back Gino's money. Now, as he sat on the stool, inside the bar, the unfinished whisky drink in his front, Gino knew if he did not come into money soon, he would blow his top.

A little scuffle at the entrance of the bar made him turned lightly. He narrowed his eyes when he saw Chief of Police Wilson strolled in; his right-hand man, Sergeant Davies Runt, was at his heels. He watched them as they both settled down in the corner of the room, and one of the waiters in the room rushed to take their orders. Gino turned back to his drink, thinking hard and fast. He was thinking about the Chief of police. What could a man like the Chief be don't in a bar? He wondered. He had heard a lot of stories about the Chief; How dubious and crooked he was. He knew the Chief of police was well informed about the happenings in the city. If he could get the Chief to give him some important names of some rich dumb people in Miami, maybe he might get lucky and find a sucker among them. It was a crazy idea, he told himself, but it could yield something if pushed it to the right angle.

He stood up from the stool and moved towards the Chief of the policy table. One look at the Chief told him he would be easy to handle.

"May I join you?" Gino asked, staring at the face of the Chief Of Police.

Wilson, who had been laughing boisterously to a joke his right-hand man had said, looked up and saw Gino staring at him. Wilson was short, thickset, and his head was balding. But the notable feature about him was his face. It was the face of a bulldog chewing a wasp, and it was complemented with steel grey eyes and a hard, bitter mouth. He recognized Gino immediately.

"Mr. Rissi," Wilson said with a fake smile. "How are you? So glad you could join us? Please have a seat."

Gino pulled out a chair and lowered himself in it. He did not even bother to look at Sergeant Davies Runt, who had a scowl on his face. Runt was tall and broad-shouldered, with black wavy hair, tanned skin, and restless, blue eyes. Runt did not welcome the idea of someone joining them, mostly when someone was a notorious gangster, and he looked at Gino the way you look at a giant spider that has fallen into your food. Wilson was talking now.

"You know, I love the idea of you are joining us at the table," he said, looking at Gino. "Anyone who sees us like this will know that the police are working hand in hand with the gangster's leaders to make Miami city a better place."

Gino, who did not share this view, only smiled. He took out from his pocket a platinum case, brought out three cigars. He offered Wilson one and watched him snatched it from his hand eagerly. He offered Runt the other. At first, Runt hesitated, but the idea of allowing a good cigar to pass him by nagged at him, and he took it from Gino's hand. The men lit up, and Gino ordered drinks.

As soon as the men started drinking, the stiff atmosphere around the table evaporated. Wilson, who never hold his tongue whenever there was a free flow of drinks, began to lose his mouth. Even Runt was feeling light-headed, and he seemed relaxed. Gino made sure he kept the whisky glass of Wilson full. Part of his plan was to get Wilson drunk as much as possible.

"My dear Mr. Rissi, what brings you here?" Wilson said, clutching Gino's arm. "One of your boys down here?"

Gino shook his head.

"I'm just having fun. That's all," he replied, dragging a lungful of smoke into his lungs.

"Then fun you shall have," Wilson replied, breathing heavily.

"But you know money is important," Gino said, trying to bait Wilson "What is fun without money?"

Wilson nodded. "You're damn right, Mr. Rissi. There's no fun without money. But for me, I don't have to worry about money. I have got a well full of money. A well that can never dry," and he beamed at Gino.

The word money caught Gino's attention.

"What do you mean?" Gino asked casually. He refilled the glass of Wilson and watched him grabbed the glass hurriedly to his lips. Then Wilson heaved heavily and looked around the room. He wiggles his finger at Gino for him to move closer.

Gino did just that, and lowering his voice, he said: "For you, my friend, I'll tell you this. I've got somebody here in Miami city who oils my hand with money. That way, my well of money never dries. I'm never short of money."

Gino leaned back in his chair and regarded the lush, drunk face of Wilson. He had a feeling this fat ball of a man was telling him the truth.

"He must be a sucker, right?" Gino said whispered. "I mean, it's only a sucker that tosses away money freely."

Wilson nodded, then he looked at Runt's face to see if he was listening to their conversations, but his right-hand man's attention was riveted on a seductive, blonde girl who had just strolled in and was waving her hips at the men. Satisfied, Wilson turned to face Gino.

"He's a sucker, all right." Wilson said.

Gino nodded as if he to say he knew it would only be a dumb sucker that could be given this fat man a whole lot of money

"Somebody that I know of?" he asked.

The drunk Wilson did not even hesitate. "The man his Vince Montreal."

Gino was shocked, but he controlled himself. Vince Montreal! He thought. Why the man was one of the wealthiest casino owners in Miami city; if this fat man can hook such a big fish like Vince Montreal, surely he would never be able to worry about money again for the rest of his life.

"How were you able to hook him?" Gino asked. "There's always a price to pay, right?"

Wilson waved his hand at Gino.

"You're right. There's a price to pay. My job is to make sure the casino never gets any trouble from any gangs in this city or the police. As long as those two areas are checked, I'm in the money. Whenever I go to the Prima Casino, any money that I spend on gambling will be returned to me, and even some bonuses will be added."

By now, Gino was sweating, and his hands were clammy with sweats. His mind was in turmoil. He eyed Wilson's face, and he almost choked with envy. What a real sucker Vince Montreal must be, he thought—paying this fat man across him such a tremendous amount of money for cheap security. Then an idea occurred to him. What if he plays a fast one on Vince Montreal. Since he's a well-known gangster, he could formulate a yarn for a dumb sucker like Vince Montreal to fall for, and the man will surely fall for it. It only depended on how he handles the situation. If he takes it right, he could net a lot of money. Gino knew he was a professional conman, and the more he thought about his plan to lay his hand on Vince Montreal's capital, the more he felt sure he would be successful.

Gino turned his attention to the Chief of Police and found him to be half sleeping. His eyes were closed, he was swaying on his chair, and he looked as if he was going to pass out at any moment. Gino turned his eyes to Runt. The Sergeant, though more resilient than the Chief, was also battling with the power of sleep. Gino hissed and stood up from the chair. Then he moved towards the bar. He brought out a roll of dollar bills from his pocket and peeled off a ten-dollar bill. Then he slapped it on the countertop.

"That's for my drinks." He said to the barman, "Those two idiots over there," he jerked his head to the Chief of police and his right-hand, "are paying for theirs. Make sure you collect your money from them. I ain't paying for no drunk," with this, Gino moved away from the countertop and made his way to the entrance, unaware of the barman who was staring at him, puzzled.