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There was a newspaper clipping with a photo of Rosolini outside a court building. The headline read in Italian, MAFIA HEIR PLEADS GUILTY TO BRIBERY.
“If you don’t read Italian – ” my client started.
“Parlo e leggo, basta trovarlo,” I replied.
I speak and read it just fine.
“Ah,” my client said with a smile. “Meraviglioso.”
“For the purposes of this meeting, though, we should probably stick to English,” I suggested.
“As you wish.”
“So what did this cousin of yours do that makes you want him dead?”
“Well, you see… I’m the person who sent him to jail.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really.”
“Yes. Behind the scenes, mind you. I didn’t testify at his trial – I merely gave the prosecutors evidence of his family’s corruption and let them follow the trail. Dario doesn’t know about my involvement – or at least I hope he doesn’t – but I’m worried he’ll discover it now that he’s out of jail and has taken over the family business. And once he does… I’m a dead man.”
“Won’t his death make anyone else suspect your involvement?”
“He’s a mafioso. He has a thousand enemies in the drug and sex trafficking trades. Any one of them could be the culprit.”
“A thousand enemies,” I said drily. “I’m assuming that means he’s prepared for a thousand enemies.”
“Which is why I’m offering 200,000 euros for the successful completion of the job.”
I looked at the pictures again.
Between the corruption, the drugs, and the sex trafficking, Rosolini certainly seemed like the kind of man who deserved to get his ticket punched.
But now I was curious about my client.
“And you,” I asked. “How did you make your money?”
“Why the fuck do you need to know?” the younger man sneered, the first time he’d spoken. Even his voice sounded cruel and vicious.
Before I could reply, my client cleared his throat angrily and stared at the younger man, who fell into a sullen silence.
“Please excuse my associate,” my client said. “In order to establish trust, I’m more than willing to be at least a little open. I’m partner in a company that’s one of the biggest exporters of olive oil to the United States. Which is why I’d like to keep my involvement in this matter completely anonymous.”
It was plausible enough… but something didn’t quite feel right about it.
It didn’t matter. I could have Sean look into the client’s story once I left.
“So why meet face-to-face?” I asked. “Wouldn’t it have been better to have actually remained anonymous?”
“I have a question to ask you – one that needed to be asked in person. I also wanted to assure you that before I ask it, I’m not trying to blindside you or threaten you in any way. I merely need to know if you’re the person who was recommended to me.”
My stomach tightened a little. “What’s the question?”
“Is your name Rachel Bauer?”
I had NOT been expecting THAT.
I’d thought he might ask how many people I’d killed, or the most well-guarded person I’d ever taken out.
