Vendetta

“OK” was all I could muster. I was too spent to argue any more. And besides, it’s not like the Falcones were clamoring to hang out with me anyway.

“They’re a dangerous family in their own right,” he continued, his breath hitching.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I vaguely remembered something from the time it happened — Angelo Falcone wasn’t exactly a stand-up citizen, but I could do with a refresher course on the details, considering I had deliberately avoided reading anything in-depth about my father’s victim.

“It means I don’t like any of this,” he said, and now there was panic pouring from his expression. Panic I could tell he had been trying to hide from me. “I don’t like that they’re near my daughter and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

You’ve already done enough, a part of me wanted to say, but I couldn’t be cruel. “They’re just boys,” I said. “They’re the same age as me.”

“Five minutes!” shouted a stocky prison guard standing three tables over.

My father started wringing his hands. “Will you stay away from them? Please be careful. I’ll speak to Jack about this.”

“They’re just boys,” I repeated.

He closed his eyes and made an attempt to calm himself. “This is what prison does to you.” When he opened them again, his face was still creased with worry.

I nodded, feigning understanding. “Do you think they’re back for something?”

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I honestly don’t know.”

Out of nowhere, the memory of the black-ribboned honeypot dropped into my mind. I shook it away.

When I got home, I told my mother I was going to bed with a headache. Fighting the urge to ignore everything and force myself to sleep, I pulled out my father’s old laptop and typed “Angelo Falcone, Chicago” into Google. I found an article from the Chicago Sun-Times dating from two Februarys ago, and clicked on it, and suddenly I was drowning in a sea of nausea and incredulity.

A “WHO’S WHO” OF AMERICA’S INFAMOUS FAMILIES ATTEND FUNERAL OF MOB BOSS ANGELO “THE ANGEL-MAKER” FALCONE

The funeral of notorious mob boss Don Angelo Falcone took place on Tuesday, February 18, at Holy Name Cathedral, Chicago. Falcone, who was dubbed “The Angel-maker” due to his alleged position as a prolific Mafia career assassin, was gunned down at 11:00 p.m. on February 14.

Falcone was outside Gracewell’s, a local diner in the Cedar Hill suburb of Chicago, when he became involved in an altercation with the owner of the establishment. Falcone, who was unarmed, was shot twice in the chest. He died instantly. Michael Gracewell, proprietor of the diner, remains in custody and is awaiting trial. Despite Falcone’s position as a Mafia don, police do not suspect underworld involvement in his death.

Angelo Falcone has been well known to police since his ascendancy to the head of the Falcone crime family in the mid-1990s. Despite his arrest on several occasions, he proved questionably fortuitous in avoiding prison when key witnesses either disappeared or retracted their statements before trial. He is believed to be responsible for the recent brutal murders of two pivotal members of the Golden Triangle Gang, an infamous drug cartel based in the Midwest, among others.

Plainclothes police officers and members of the FBI were among the crowds outside Holy Name Cathedral on Tuesday. While trouble was not expected due to a tradition of respect shared by Mafia families during funerals, law enforcement officials attended to ascertain who might succeed Angelo Falcone as head of the Falcone Mafia dynasty. The identity of the underboss was unknown at the time of Falcone’s death.

Police believe that Angelo’s younger brother, Felice Falcone, may now succeed him. In a move that seemed to support this assertion, Felice Falcone (pictured above) briefly spoke to reporters while other mourners remained tight-lipped after the service.

The suspected current boss of the Falcone Mafia family said about the deceased: “Angelo was a true soldier of God. There is no doubt in our minds that he will be rewarded in heaven for his good work here on earth. He goes to Our Savior with honor and dignity, a clear soul, and a noble heart. We will miss him dearly, but he will never be forgotten.”

“The Angel-maker” was laid to rest in a black marble coffin in the family mausoleum in Graceland Cemetery.

He is survived by his wife — daughter of the rival Genovese mob clan — Elena Genovese-Falcone and their five sons, Valentino, Gianluca, Giorgino, Dominico, and Nicoli (pictured below).

I stared, unblinking, at the final image. In the foreground was Nic: a slightly younger, glassy-eyed Nic, wearing a black suit. His hair was shorter than it was now, absent of the stray, curling strands that fell across his forehead. He was less filled out, making his cheeks seem almost gaunt, and his mouth was pressed into a hard line. He was balancing the front of his father’s coffin on his left shoulder.

Luca was supporting the other side of the coffin, the same concentrated expression on his face, his eyes a haunting blue. Gino and Dom stood behind them on either side, their faces crumpled with grief. At the back, I recognized the tall, bald man from the restaurant and the unmistakable Felice, who wore a dark gray scarf and an equally grim expression. Valentino was at the bottom of the cathedral steps, his expression blank, his eyes empty. His mother — the tall, dark-haired woman from his portrait — stood beside him, a netted black veil covering most of her face. Her hand was clenched firmly on Valentino’s slumped shoulder as he watched his brothers carry their father away.