Chapter 3

Jonas knew that he was dreaming because he was back in Joe's garden sitting on the bench beside the huge oak tree. He had been talking to his wife and daughter for what seemed a long time, but not nearly long enough.

Jonas heard someone clearing their throat behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Joe.

"Sorry folks. Time to go," Joe said jovially.

"Please Joe. Can we talk just a little more?" Jonas pleaded.

"OK. You still have time to say goodbye," Joe conceded.

Jonas put his arms around his wife and daughter and hugged them to his side. "Sheila, honey, I miss you so much. Liz, baby, I don't want to leave but I have to."

Sheila simply hugged him back but Liz said, "I know daddy but please don't be too sad at our funeral today. You know that we're alright. We just can't be with you all the time anymore."

"I know baby," Jonas said as he kissed the top of her head. "But I can't help being sad when you aren't with me."

"Honey," Sheila said softly. "We love you and believe in you. We know you will make it and be able to stay with us when you are finished."

"I'll do my very best," he whispered to his wife and daughter. "My very best," he promised again.

"Sorry Jonas. It is time now," Joe said. He had a happy voice but it was tempered by understanding the sorrow of their parting.

Jonas and his family rose to their feet. He kissed Sheila then hugged Liz and kissed her before they walked away. The sound of their footsteps disappeared the moment the path took them around the tree.

Jonas turned to Joe and said, "Thanks for this Joe. I really appreciate it."

"I know you do," Joe said gently. "As you said, we both want you to succeed. You have done well but there are more difficult missions coming. I thought spending time with your family would help you through the times to come."

"Thanks Joe," Jonas said. He smiled and said, "I'll do my best."

Jonas sat in one of the folding chairs that funeral directors use at grave side ceremonies. He stared at the two graves ready to be filled. The caskets had been lowered into the graves and all the other people that came to the funeral had left. Jonas seemed to be oblivious to anything around him but he wasn't. He was aware of the impatient movement of the men that would fill the grave. He was aware of the moisture on his face and neck. The day had dawned grey and dreary. A light drizzle had started about the time the hand full of dirt was sprinkled on the caskets to signify the end of the ceremony. Jonas Gianni was aware of everything around him but he felt numb.

Jonas hadn't been surprised to see Cleves at the funeral but he was surprised to see Tony Rizzo. Tony was 72 years old and very seldom went anyplace that wasn't extremely secure. To Tony Rizzo's mind, a cemetery was an invitation to snipers. Not many Mafia bosses reached the ripe old age of 72. Tony had because he never relaxed his guard.

The tall old, white haired man had stridden across the cemetery from his limo as if he owned the place. His body guards were fanned out around him and were having trouble matching the pace of the tall old man. All were having trouble except for Maximilian (Max) Cornelius. Max was the last line of defense in the protective ring around Tony. Tony didn't move without Max at his shoulder and it was even rumored that Max slept in the bedroom next to Tony. Max was 6'4" and 240 pounds of mean muscle. He was quick as a cat and fiercely loyal to Tony. He had proved that by taking a bullet for Tony in an assassination attempt several years before. Max preceded the procession across the cemetery and his head was constantly swiveling. On more than one occasion Jonas thought of Max in the same light as the President's Secret Service and couldn't imagine anyone being more capable.

Jonas always thought that Tony Rizzo was what the head of a crime empire was supposed to look like. Tony looked like an aristocrat straight out of the movies. Furthermore, he acted like an aristocrat too. He was always immaculately dressed. He always spoke with precision as if his words were being recorded for posterity. Jonas knew that many FBI agents wished they could record some of them. Jonas also knew that Tony didn't have the same respect for men that didn't measure up to his standards. Jonas always took great care to ensure he was dressed immaculately and spoke precise, proper English when around the Mob Boss. Tony walked up to Jonas and put one hand on Jonas's shoulder and shook his hand with the other.

"I grieve for your loss Jonas," Tony had said in a sorrowful bass voice. "You have my prayers and sympathy."

"Mr. Rizzo," Jonas had blurted looking around the cemetery. The man's caution was well known. "Sir, you didn't need to come to the funeral."

"You are part of my Family," Tony had replied. "I share in your triumphs and I share in your grief. I take care of my own. If you hadn't already resolved the issue of the culprits of this crime then I would take care of that too." The old man had sighed before continuing, "But, with your usual efficiency, you left nothing for anyone else to do with the immediate animals that caused this. Unfortunately, there are others like them. We will talk about this later."

Jonas started to say something but Tony cut him off.

"We will talk more after the funeral," Tony said stopping a reply or further conversation.

"Yes sir. Thank you for coming sir," Jonas had replied.

"I will see you at my home," Tony said before walking to the grave side. He stopped for a moment with his head bowed over the caskets then took a seat.