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I did not need this right now.
I pulled out all the money I had left in my pocket – about 3000 euros, all in hundreds.
I peeled off a single bill to pay for breakfast, then held out the wad of cash. It was still damp from my dunk in the river.
The old man was stunned into silence.
“Take that and give it to your son,” I said. “In exchange for his inconvenience… and for you not calling the cops.”
When the old man didn’t reach for the money, I picked up his hand from his side and pressed the money into his palm.
The 2900 was more than the car was worth; it was a piece of crap. But I really couldn’t afford more complications today, so I asked, “You got a pen and paper?”
“Inside,” the old man mumbled.
“Go get it.”
He walked obediently back inside, then came out with a small pad and pen. I wrote down a phone number.
“Have your son call this number tomorrow morning – not today, tomorrow morning – and tell whoever answers that I owe another 30,000 euros for the car. If you don’t call the cops, the man at this number will immediately wire 30,000 euros to your son’s bank account. Do you understand?”
The old man hesitated, then nodded.
“You gonna call the cops?” I asked.
He shook his head no, his eyes wide.
“Grazie,” I said and patted his shoulder. Thank you.
Then I left him standing there in the street and went into the café.
89
After a hearty breakfast of frittata – eggs, bacon, and cheese baked in a casserole – and copious amounts of espresso, I walked out of the café and down to the shore.
I couldn’t see Venice from where I stood, but I knew from my boat ride with Lucia that several large islands were in the way.
I’d see Venice soon enough from the Isle of San Michele.
I only had to wait about 20 minutes before six black Mercedes drove up and parked on the road next to me.
Lars and Adriano got out, along with 20 men who worked as foot soldiers for my family.
A grin spread across my face from ear to ear.
As Lars and Adriano walked over towards me, Adriano held out his arms. “C’mere, you big lug! Jesus, you look like shit.”
I laughed as I hugged him.
Always trust Adriano to give it to you straight.
“That’s what four weeks on the run eating food out of cans will do to you,” I said.
“Yeah, but what’s this?” Adriano said as he patted my overgrown beard. “We should’ve brought a fuckin’ barber, too.”
I chuckled and then embraced Lars. “Thanks for coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” he said. “Wouldn’t have missed it.”
