Page 50 of Saltwater Promises
“Blanton’s. You’ve never had it?”
Lenny shook his head. “I’m not supposed to drink on parole.”
Mike scoffed. “That’s fine with me. This is a two-hundred dollar bottle. I’m not going to waste it on someone who can’t appreciate it.”
“Two hundred dollars, eh?” Lenny picked it up, studying the label. “Why would you get this if you’re having money trouble?”
“Maybe it’s my birthday.”
A smile spread across Lenny’s face. “It’s your birthday! Well, I can’t say no to celebrating a birthday.”
Lenny insisted that they take shots, stating, “It says whiskey on here and I know you gotta shoot whiskey.”
Mike didn’t correct him; it would be much easier to get Lenny drunk with shots. He agreed and poured some Dr Pepper into a mug – since there were no clean glasses in the house – saying he needed it for a chaser.
“Real tough guy,” Lenny said with a laugh. “Sippin’ on his Dr Pepper. You’re a weird dude, you know that?”
The “dudes” became more frequent as Lenny drank. Mike remained sober, however. With each shot, he brought the mug of Dr Pepper to his lips, slowly spit the liquor into it, and set it down. Lenny never noticed, and Mike stayed completely sober.
Mike hoped that Lenny might let something slip in all of his babbling, but unfortunately, he did not. By shot number eight, he was repeating in a strange verbal loop, the theme being that no one thought he would make it, but he was going to show them all.
An interesting origin story, but nothing exciting to Mike. Mercifully, Lenny fell asleep not long after that and Mike was able to get his phone. It took half an hour to plant the bug and test it. Lenny slept peacefully through it all.
The information from the bug rolled in slowly. It wasn’t Lenny’s main phone – that one was probably being watched by the FBI – but it was the one that he was doing his side business with.
Everything, including texts, voicemails, and calls, fed into Mike’s secure laptop. He was able to keep it at the safe house in plain sight, because Lenny would never figure out how to use it. If he tried to log onto it, he would see nothing more than a few folders, pictures, and a handful of bookmarked websites.
But when Mike logged into a secret account on the computer, he could see everything that Lenny was doing. He even had his GPS movements throughout the day, as long as the phone was powered on. The only issue was that Mike didn’t have much time to look at this data since Lenny kept him running around.
It was almost two weeks before Mike had a day to himself to go through everything. Lenny had to go into the city to speak to the FBI and provide some information to them. Mike actually watched on the screen as Lenny made his way into Seattle.
There were three hours’ worth of calls to listen to, and Mike listened as he sorted through the texts.
It was tricky stuff. There were a few people that Lenny talked to regularly, and Mike didn’t know who all of them were. He didn’t have the resources that he used to have – profiles, voice identification, call tracking. He was flying blind.
Plus, all of the phone calls contained the standard paranoid mob guy lingo. They talked in code, and Mike didn’t have the time to figure out what everything meant.
Lenny and a man he’d labeled “MD” in his phone had frequent, short conversations. They spoke in code, too, but Mike was able to determine that Lenny seemed to revere this man.
Mike didn’t think that MD stood for doctor, but he wasn’t sure what else it could be. He knew the hierarchy of the Sabini family, and no one jumped out. The boss was Antonio Sabini, a cold and brutal man who valued money over all else.
Antonio’s consigliere was a man named Stu, full name Stuart Ricci. The underboss was Marco Trenassi, a fierce guy with an even fiercer wife who had spent time in jail for a brutal attack against another mob wife.
Mike ran through the rest of the people that he knew, but none of them had the initials MD. Could Lenny be working with a different family?
It was possible, but highly unlikely. Another family might be willing to use him to make large amounts of money, but they wouldn’t welcome him in the way that Lenny wanted.
Whoever MD was, he was kind to Lenny, in a way. He seemed to instruct him on actions related to the FBI, whom he called “the G-man,” and Lenny listened to him without argument. That was a big deal for someone like Lenny, who was convinced he was always the smartest guy in the room.
Mike was sitting there, racking his brain for answers, when a voicemail popped onto his laptop. It was from MD, just a half hour prior.
“Hey, sorry I didn’t call you sooner. Looks like I missed you before your trip to see the G-man. The charges on Anthony should stick. It’s coming together. Proud of you, son.”
Mike listened to it once, then again. The charges should stick to Anthony?
There were a lot of Anthonys in the Sabini family, but the most notable was Antonio’s son. It was well-known that Anthony would follow in his father’s footsteps and take over the family business…
Wasthatwhat Lenny was up to? Setting up the boss’s son? That was a dangerous game. It would bring down Anthony, and probably his father, too. But it could bring down the whole family. Why would Lenny want that? It’s not like he was next in line. He was way down the list, not even…
A wave of dizziness hit Mike. Lenny wasn’t next in line, but Marco Trenassi was. Marco, who was well-known for his philandering despite Mrs. Trenassi’s famous jealousy. The man whose wife once brutally attacked his mistress – the wife of a lower ranking member of the family.
It all made sense.
MD stood for “Marco Dad.” Lenny was Marco’s illegitimate child, probably hidden from everyone all this time. Even the FBI hadn’t known that Marco and Lenny were related. Marco kept it a secret, probably to protect Lenny’s mother from being involved, and now Lenny was his secret weapon.
No wonder Lenny was allowed to make so many mistakes and still handle important relationships, like the one with Benzini. He really was handling something big. He was a pawn in Marco’s plan, sure, but there was a master at the helm, ready to take over the Sabini family without a drop of blood spilled.
This might not be as easy as Mike had initially thought.
