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“This man isn’t Italian,” I said. “He looks Russian.”
“…Russian?!”
She and her bodyguards watched as I removed the helmets and ski masks on the other three intruders.
“This one’s Slavic as well… this one, too. Maybe Eastern European.”
“You think the Russians are behind this?!”
“Mercenaries, more likely,” I said as I pulled out my phone and snapped pictures of the dead men’s faces.
“What are you doing now?” the Widow asked, intensely curious.
“My family’s enforcer has ties to that world,” I replied. “He can probably find out who they are quicker than your men. But regardless of where they came from, I believe my uncle hired them.”
“Fausto,” the old woman growled.
“Yes,” I agreed as I sent the pictures to Lars’s cell phone. I included the text, Just attacked by these assholes. Can you find out who they are.
“I have to admit,” the Widow said bitterly, “I initially thought your claims about your uncle sounded like a conspiracy theory… but I’m beginning to find them more and more compelling.”
I was about to reply when Lars texted me back.
Are you okay????
I typed out my response:
Yes. Not hurt. Widow OK. Pretty sure Fausto sent them.
Several seconds later, I got another text.
Call when you can. I’ll run these guys down in the meantime and let you know.
Seconds after I read the message, Giotto – he of the salt-and-pepper hair – came in through the rear door he’d exited just 10 minutes before. He was escorted on both sides by suits with guns pointed at his kidneys.
“Hopefully he can shed some light on it,” I said.
The Widow gave a sinister smile as she muttered, “We’re about to find out.”
6
Giotto was full of concern for his employer – probably faked.
But he did a good job of staring at the dead bodies on the ground and then looking at the Widow in disbelief.
“Signora, I just heard! This is terrible – terrible! Are you alright?!”
“Oh, you care about that now, do you?” she snarled, then gestured to her men on either side of Giotto. “Hold him there between the two of you.”
Two henchmen grabbed his arms and forced them behind his back.
Giotto shouted in bewilderment, “Signora, why are you doing this?! I have done nothing! I am innocent, I tell you – innocent!”
The Widow ignored his protests. “Who are you working for?”
“YOU, Signora!”
“I wonder,” she muttered.
