Chapter One

~ Monday ~

 

For me, this nightmare started last week, but in reality it began over sixty years ago at the Dachau Concentration Camp. I learned about Dachau in high-school, and on the History Channel, and discovered Dachau was like all the camps—Hell on Earth.

Opened in 1933 for political prisoners of the so-called ‘Master Race’, those judged inferior by the Nazis were crammed into the camp. Dachau held over two-hundred thousand Poles, Jews, homosexuals, and Communists, who along with other innocents were tortured, murdered and suffered beyond imagination. That was until the Americans of the 42nd Infantry Division of the 7th Army took the camp in April of 1945. And it was the taking of the Dachau that led to Rory Duffy’s murder almost seventy years later.

* * * *

My name’s John Seraph, at least it became that after I legally changed it from Giovanni Angelo. For the past seven years I’ve lived across the hall from Rory and Harriet Duffy, ever since I moved away from my old man’s estate up in Newfane, NY in Niagara County.

My father, Stefano Angelo, is Boss of the Arm and he wanted to groom me to become the next Boss. That wasn’t going to happen since I made a blood oath to my mother, Sophia. I gave her my word I’d make a difference, that I would do something with my life. So I started attending

Buffalo State College, majoring in English Education. This is a part of my life I thought I could escape from, but it seems impossible.

My most recent difficulties began when Marcia Coulter left a message on my answering machine asking me to call her back.

It was the winter/holiday break, with school set to resume in five weeks. I work at the E.H. Butler library, but everyone’s hours were cut some, so I’d been looking for a second part-time job. A number of businesses were still looking for seasonal help and at least I wouldn’t overdraft my checking account.

I’d also been avoiding my family because I still don’t know how to handle my problems with them. My troubles with them come from the fact I’m the only member of my family who took a stand against my father’s illegal activities. The old man is the last of the old-school mobsters; he’s a holdover from past generations. My brothers, sisters, and in-laws don’t seem to care where the money for their lifestyles came from, or who gets hurt. Even though things improved this past year with everyone, I still wasn’t completely comfortable with the situation. And I know some of them weren’t comfortable with me.

Earlier this year the old man tried to recruit me after I found and fought Dana Tillis’ killers. I came to realize he’d never give up on the idea, but he also knew I could never lead, or technically join the Arm since I broke several commandments of the Mafia; I passed on information to the police, quarreled with so-called ‘men of honor’, according to the Arm’s standards, I didn’t maintain proper behavior, and I refused to keep silent about the Arm to outsiders. Well they may have their commandments, but I have my own code I follow, and if the two sets of rules come into conflict so be it.