Free The Heart of an Assassin by Tony Bertot

know Assistant DA Leo
Agostino?” John asked them.
    “I don’t,” responded Sheila.
    “Yes, I do. I had a case with him back in
’82, which we lost,” Sam answered. “It was just before you came on
board and took over the task force.”
    “Yes, the case against Leo Russo, one of
Giordano’s lieutenants,” added John.
    “We went in there with guns blaring. We had
tapes and photos of an exchange between Russo and one of his
dealers. This was the break we were looking for. Man, if we could
have gotten Russo, it would have been just a matter of time before
we would have gotten the rest of the Giordano family.
    Sam, now standing, continued, “Then things
started to go wrong, just before we went into trial. First, the
photos and tapes disappeared. Then surprise witnesses came forward
as alibis to Leo’s whereabouts when the exchange had taken place.
We tried to get a hold of the witnesses, but then they disappeared.
Mr. Agostino pleaded with the judge, uh . . . Judge Sam Livingston,
but it was no use. The lawyer for the defense, Mike Angelino, was
good. One of the mob’s top lawyers out of Chicago, if I remember
right. The case was thrown out due to lack of evidence. Man, was I
mad!”
    “Well,” said John, “the other day, I had a
visitor. It was Mr. Agostino. It seems like one of the undercover
officers who was executed was a relative of none other than Mike
Angelino.”
    “What, the defense lawyer?” Sheila asked.
    “Yep, big ass mistake for the Giordano
family,” added John.
    “But . . . but he’s their lawyer. He can’t
testify against them, can he?” asked Sam.
    “No, he can’t. But what is interesting is
that he did provide us with the name of someone who is not
protected by attorney-client privilege. Judge Samual Livingston,”
announced John.
    “The judge who presided over the Russo case?”
asked Sam.
    “Yes, none other,” responded John.
    “He is on the take?” Sheila asked.
    “Yep, agent Ed White and I have been secretly
working on gathering the evidence that would put him away,” John
said. “A couple of days ago, we visited him at his home and had a
long conversation. It seems as if the judge is in fear of his life,
and that of his family, and wants protection, so we struck up a
deal. His family has been relocated to an undisclosed location. The
judge will join them after he testifies against the Giordano
family.”
    “Wow, that is a break,” Sheila remarked.
    “Last night the judge’s house was bombed,”
said John.
    “Oh my God,” commented Sheila.
    “How did they know?” asked Sam.
    “I don’t know. Obviously someone in the
bureau,” responded John. There was silence; each lost in their own
thoughts.
    “Captain, what do you need us to do?” asked
Sam.
    “You are both going to disappear for a few
weeks. I need you both to go home and pack your things. Sheila, at
one o’clock pick up Sam at his house, go to the location I have
written down on this paper, and relieve the two gentlemen who are
babysitting the judge. Make sure you aren’t followed.” Handing
Sheila the paper and a bag, John continued, “Here is an electronic
scanner. Scan your car before leaving your house, and then again
after you pick Sam up. Under no circumstances are you to call
anyone, family or otherwise. One more thing, you will be working
with two others in protecting the judge. You are to take your
orders from them. Is that understood?” he asked them both.
    “Yes, sir, we understand,” both nodded.
     
     

 
Tyler’s Return
    June
6, 1984 (New York City)
    Tyler Santiago stood staring up at the
third-floor window where he had lived with his mother so long ago.
His deep blue eyes moistened as he thought back to the last time he
was here. His heart began to pound harder as he once more
visualized his mother’s ruthless murder. With strong hands that
trembled, his lean, strong body almost buckled as he relived the
scene. Never knowing his father, his mother was his only source of
love and