Tony Catalano wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was loyal and hardworking. Mr. B had repeatedly rewarded him for his years of good service by giving him assignments of increasing importance.
This was his biggest assignment yet, and "Big Tony" was determined to prove Mr. B's confidence in him was justified. He studied the photo of the man one more time. He noted the black Cadillac Escalade parked up against the wall in the dimly-lit parking garage.
Tony knew Arthur Clark owed "The Boss" several million dollars for Mr. B's help in some kind of a business deal. It was Tony's assignment to remind Clark, the CEO of a large insurance company, that Mr. B didn't appreciate Clark being several days late on a payment.
"Give him the 'Big Tony growl,' then threaten to kneecap him if you need to, but under no circumstances are you to actually shoot him. These business execs are a bunch of pussies, and he'll probably start crying and begging you not to hurt him. You remind him to call me first thing tomorrow morning to discuss his late penalty," Mr. B had instructed Tony.
Big Tony had done some studying on Arthur Clark. He knew Clark was a well-groomed handsome man who kept himself in good condition and had wavy brown hair and dark brown eyes. He drove a 2022 Escalade and was usually the last executive out of the building, meaning the two would be alone in the parking garage.
The next-to-last exec had left 10 minutes before. Tony watched sharply from behind a column support as the door to the garage opened. He had to admit he was impressed with Clark. The man looked about 10 years younger than his photo as he walked to the car. Tony, 6-4, 255 pounds, lumbered toward the other man, getting close as the man got to his vehicle.
"Mr. B is not a happy man. You're late on your payment," Tony growled at the man, who looked at him blankly.
"Who? I-I don't know anyone named Mr. B," the man stuttered, eyes wide.
"Rrrrrr!" Tony growled again, pulling a pistol from the waistband of his pants. "Nice try, but if you don't want to limp for the rest of your life..."
BLAM!
It was a warm day, and Tony was sweating freely. His right hand was covered in sweat, and he started to lose his grasp on his gun as he waved it at the man. He quickly re-gripped it, but accidentally pulled the trigger as he did so. The noise was almost deafening in the confines of the garage.
Tony looked on in horror as blood exploded from the man's crotch as he screamed and fell backward. He wasn't dead, but Tony didn't give his chances of survival much as he saw blood continuing to run. This was not part of the plan, and Tony's specialty was not thinking on his feet.
Tony could see no easy way out. Under extreme duress, all he could think of was something he once heard in a pirate movie, "Dead men tell no tales." It seemed to make sense, considering the circumstances. He fired a second round, center mass, killing Clark, before walking away. Mr. B was not going to be happy with this screw-up. Not being a car guy, he didn't notice that the Escalade was a 2020, not a 2022, as he left the garage.
As Gary Finchell lay dying, his cellphone rang several times before it went to message. It rang again 10 minutes later.
******
It was a busy Friday in the dental offices of Dr. Alan Siegel and Dr. Victor Washington when two people who soon identified themselves as police officers walked over to the receptionist and asked for Dr. Washington. Ten minutes later, a confused, red-faced Dr. Washington was being led out in handcuffs.
Victor Washington waited until his attorney got to the police station before he agreed to be interviewed.
"Like I told you guys in my office, I barely knew Gary Finchell. He worked at the same company as my wife. I had met him at some of her office events, like the Christmas parties and the Fourth of July barbecues. I don't think I said more than a hundred words to the guy since Traci went back to work there four years ago," Victor said harshly.
"What the fu... hell is going on?"
"You know that Mr. Finchell was killed the other night, right?" asked the male officer.
"Yeah, Traci seemed pretty upset when she found out yesterday. I guess she went home from work. I think she's home again today," Victor said.
The two police officers looked at each other and smiled. Victor and his attorney didn't miss the look.
"Where is this going?" Victor's attorney asked.
"Guy gets his nuts shot off, and you don't think we're going to ignore his lover's cuckold, do you?" said the woman cop.
Victor Washington almost fell out of his chair.
"Wait! Wait! Wait! What? What? What?" he shouted. "Cuckold. My wife. Lover."
"You're telling us you didn't know your wife was having an affair with Gary Finchell, and that you didn't shoot his nuts off? And I'm the Easter Bunny, and she's the tooth fairy," the male cop said. "You've already admitted you don't have an alibi for the time of the murder, and you clearly have motive, buddy."
Victor slumped in his seat. His attorney whispered something in his ear.
"No, seriously. I didn't know," Victor said quietly. He looked blankly at the two cops. "I didn't know," he said in their direction.
"How do you guys know?"
The officers again looked at each other but didn't answer.
"You shot his nuts off, Dr. Washington. We get it," the male cop said.
"How did you find out my wife was having an affair with Finchell?" the dentist asked yet again.
"Your wife left two messages on his cell about... meeting with him at about the same time the crime was being committed. She admitted to the affair when we pressed her hard.
Victor had plenty of time to think about his situation as he lay on his jail cot that night. The police hadn't charged him yet, but they had 48 hours before they had to turn him loose.
Victor was a smart man and knew that he should be worried about being charged with killing another man, but the news of his wife cheating on him more than overruled his worry about being charged with murder. He and Traci had been married for 26 years and had two grown children. Until a few hours ago, Victor thought he and Traci were going the distance. Now?
How long had this affair been going on, Victor wondered. Why did it start? How could he have missed it?
Victor was formally charged with murder Sunday evening, and was denied bail as a flight risk. He noted to himself that his wife had not tried to contact him at all since his arrest. Did she also believe he killed her lover?
Victor thought back to Wednesday evening. As had been the norm for about the last year, Traci was supposedly going out to dinner and conversation with her best friend, Laura. Victor never really gave it a second thought before, because he trusted his wife. As usual, she got home at about 8, but for some reason seemed to be agitated, and didn't hesitate to let him know about it.
"I didn't see any dishes in the sink. Tell me you just ate Pop-Tarts again for supper. For God sakes, Vic, you're not handicapped. I know you can cook," she griped at him.
"Maybe I don't want to cook when I'm alone. I miss you, babe. I hate these girls' night out things."
"Oh, please!" she said, and stomped off to the shower.
******
Traci's impatience with her husband continued to increase the longer her affair with Gary Finchell continued, but it was only recently that Victor had noticed a problem between him and his wife.
Traci was very much in love with her husband and certainly wasn't looking for an affair when her friendship with her immediate boss, Finchell, started to mushroom. After working closely together for a couple of years, Finchell started to see the opportunity for something more with the woman when she started opening up about her personal life. At 5-5, 120 pounds of curvy woman with shoulder-length straight black hair, Traci looked 10 years younger than her 48 years, but she seemed very concerned as "the big 5-0" approached. Gary began to slowly feed her ego with compliments, not that her husband didn't compliment her, but Traci seemed especially pleased with the remarks coming from another man.
Finchell, married with two children of his own, was very deliberate in his seduction of Traci, taking almost a year before bedding the other man's wife. Although no larger of phallus than her husband, Finchell turned out to be a better technician, Traci thought, completely discarding the fact that part of her enjoyment was due to the fact that Finchell was new to her... and the affair seemed very naughty.
Traci and her paramour usually met once or twice each week for sex. They met for lunch several times each week, and spent a lot of time in each other's company. Virtually everybody who worked in the office knew of the affair, including Arthur Clark.
******
Victor had his attorney do the financial diligence thing Monday morning because he no longer trusted his wife. His children visited him in holding that morning, and informed him that the tabloids were having a field day with his situation. "Jilted hubby says nuts to wife's lover," was the headline of one paper his son, Jared, showed him, an obvious reference to the dead man's private parts being shot off.
"Well, I've got to give the headline writer kudos for being a clever bastard, at least," Victor said quietly.
"Not funny, Dad. You're in a world of hurt here and you're cracking wise," whined his daughter, Dee.
"I'm sure it will all work out, baby. I didn't kill him. I swear," Victor told his children.
"Mom sure seems to think so. We spent the night at the house, and she spent most of her time with us calling you a murdering bastard. Said you couldn't take her guy being a better man, a better lover," Jared said.
"I finally told her to shut the fuck up."
Jared grinned sheepishly at his father. Under normal circumstances, he knew Victor would not have tolerated his son using abusive language on his wife, but this was way beyond normal circumstances.
Victor grinned back, causing Jared to sigh in relief.
"I appreciate you having my back," Victor said.
