Sideways

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.

"When did you find out about Mom?" his daughter asked.

"Not until they arrested me. I keep telling the cops that. I didn't know," Victor said.

"I loved your mother, but there's no way I'd go to jail because she's become a slut. I'd love to find out who offed that bastard, though, because I'd like to shake his hand."

The children looked at each other in complete surprise. They had never known their father to be anything but honest with them.

Of course the children had also never known their mother to be dishonest with them either, but there was no denying now that she had been with both their father and them. She tried to glide her way through the infidelity by constantly blaming their father for the murder of Finchell.

She repeatedly told anyone who would listen that the press was crucifying her over a small affair while giving her husband what she considered a pass for the murder.

"Yes, I slept with another man, but your father killed another man. All the Goddamn press cares about is the sex angle," she complained to her kids.

"Well, if Dad did kill the man, it was because you were having sex with him! It is about sex." Jared bit back.

******

The state police were immediately suspicious when they found a 9 mm pistol with the decayed remains of a large man downstate several months later. Two days after that, ballistics on the gun came back with a match to a high-profile case from this past spring: the case the media had dubbed "Jilted Husband." It was not every day that a cuckolded husband shoots off the balls of his wife's lover.

The remains came back as those of Tony "Big Tony" Catalano, a low-level Mafia member who was part of the outfit run by George Barile. After an extensive double-check, the state police as well as the local police could find no connection between Catalano and the man jailed for murdering Gary Finchell--Dr. Victor Washington.

The tie-in to the "Jilted Husband" case once again inflamed the media, and they joined the police in trying to figure out a connection between the mafia and the insurance company. The police won the race, finally determining Arthur Clark was the link, but it took a sharp-eyed video technician at one of the city's news stations to piece everything together.

Robbie Comstock of KRNT News was looking through the photos of the main players in both cases when he noticed the close physical resemblance Gary Finchell had to his boss, Clark. He then remembered that both men drove black Escalades, with Finchell's being two years older.

"What if Big Tony shot Finchell by accident, thinking he was Clark?" Comstock asked the two investigating officers in an off-the-record meeting. "What if Finchell having his nuts shot off was just a weird coincidence?"

Further investigating led the police to give credence to the video tech's theory. Several of the insurance company employees noted the joke in the office was that Finchell's grooming and car choice were clearly a brown nose to his boss.

******

George Barile was not exactly happy with Big Tony when the latter reported in that night that his "assignment" went sideways and Clark was dead. The Mafia chieftain always tried very hard to keep his legendary bad temper in check, but in his business it wasn't always possible.

"I told you no shooting, you fucking idiot! What part of no shooting didn't you get?" Barile bellowed at the cowering man. "You shoot him twice and kill him!"

"I fucked up big, Mr. B. I'm really, really sorry," Tony said remorsefully. "The gun started to slip out of my hand. I regripped it and it went off. He was bleeding bad and I knew he was going to die, and I figured he might talk if I just left him there. So I ended him."

Barile thought for a few seconds before he responded.

"Have Andrew take you over to our house on East Ninth and babysit you for a few days until we can figure out how to get you out of town for a while. He'll keep you out of sight and well-fed," Barile said.

"Thank you, Mr. B. I really appreciate this. I'm really sorry this happened."

"All right, get moving, Tony," Barile said as he clapped the large man on the shoulder and led him toward the door.

Tony's fate was sealed when it was determined that the victim was not Arthur Clark, but rather one of his employees. Clark had left the office for a doctor's appointment earlier that day.

"This might not be the worst thing that could happen," Barile said to his top assistant, Frankie Donatello. "It will definitely show Mr. Clark that we are not to be trifled with.

"But damn, I always liked Tony, that big, dumb goofball. You know what has to be done."

Donatello nodded and left the room.

******

Traci's life went into the dumpster after Finchell was killed. She had no idea her husband knew anything about her affair, and was completely shocked that her gentle, loving spouse could kill another man. She suddenly knew real fear, but was comforted by the fact that the police had arrested him and he was being held without bail.

While her children were appalled with Traci's affair, she played up her lover's murder by their father to distract from the issue of the infidelity. That would have worked better if not for the media, who found the story of a cuckolded husband killing the wife's lover front page fodder.

"Damn, you'd think I'm the first woman in the city to ever step out on her husband," Traci whined to her co-worker, Liz, over lunch one day about two weeks after the murder. "According to the Goddamn press, I am the second coming of the whore of Babylon."

"Well, you have to admit it's not exactly life as usual when your jealous husband shoots your lover's nuts off and kills him," Liz said with a giggle before looking at Traci's face.

"Sorry," she quickly murmured.

"Everybody here pretty much knew you two were knocking boots, but how serious was this, Traci? You two in love?"

"You know I loved Vic, but Gary and I were turning into something. But I guess we'll never know now what we could have been. I can't believe Victor could ever kill anybody. I guess you never really know someone, huh?" Traci said.

"I guess not," Liz said softly.

Liz was with Traci and several other co-workers at Gary's funeral the week before. She saw Gary's wife glare daggers at Traci several times. She noticed Traci kept her eyes down, but appeared to be crying softly throughout the service. She knew Traci had to be a little concerned that Gary's widow might get out of hand. Fortunately, nothing untoward happened. Traci made sure to stay in the background, away from the widow.

******

Never having been in jail before, Victor couldn't believe how amazing it felt to be a free man once again after more than four months of being incarcerated. In his head, he equated it to having the biggest orgasm of his life.

"Oh, man, Lance, even the air smells sweeter, I swear!" he yelled in exultation as he left the jail with his attorney.

The city district attorney turned Victor loose and dropped the charges when the police determined that another man, Big Tony Catalano, had shot and killed his wife's lover, Gary Finchell.

Lance Weatherman drove his client to the home he had shared with his wife, Traci, for the past 15 years. Traci was at work as it was barely past noon. He and Lance walked into the house, which looked exactly the same as when he last saw it, Victor thought. As Lance watched, Victor slowly walked through the whole house, freely touching the walls, furniture, even knick-knacks, the way a blind man would.

"Lord I've missed this place, even knowing what I know now," Victor whispered.

Victor walked over to his well-stocked liquor cabinet, knowing that Traci never drank hard alcohol and the cabinet had probably been untouched since he was arrested. There were at least 25 bottles of booze in various stages of fullness.

"Mmmmm... celebration calls for... single malt," Victor enthused, pulling out a half-full bottle of Glenmorangie 12-year-old and pouring shots for Lance and himself.

"Thank you for your help, Lance, and thanks for being there when things were at rock bottom," he said. "I know this was about more than a paycheck."

He and Lance sipped their shots in silence. Lance drummed his fingers on the manila folder on the table.

"Why do you think she didn't file on me while I was in jail?" Victor asked.

"In the beginning, probably because there was just so much shit going on, particularly with the media hype and everything. Then she probably just figured you would do it from jail," Lance answered.

"The kids told me she was convinced I killed her lover and that she hated me for it, so I guess I'm shocked she hasn't done it yet," Victor said. "She's going to be one shocked amigo when she gets home."

"Maybe with everything going on, she's done a 180, and wants to stay with you. Gary's dead, the kids are pissed at her, she's practically a real-life Cruella de Vil. What's the term... the best of a bad situation," Lance said.

Traci didn't recognize the car parked in her driveway when she got home. At first, she thought it was another reporter seeking a quote, but then realized whoever it was, was already inside her home. She dialed 9-1-1 and gave the screener all the information. Two minutes later two uniformed police officers walked into the Washington home joined by Traci.

"Oh my God! What are you doing here?" she shrieked at Victor as the two officers raised their weapons.

Both Victor and Lance raised their hands above their heads.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" I live here. I'm Vic Washington. I've just been released from jail a few hours ago. Even got the DA to apologize to me," Victor said.

"Truth. I'm his attorney. They dropped all charges," Lance said.