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“I know,” Bernie said. “It was a bad choice.”
“You should have hired a less macho god.”
“He was the only one who needed money,” Bernie said. “Zeus was a big spender.”
“And then you killed him?” I asked.
“I had to. He was in a panic. He was going to turn himself in. He would have ruined everything.”
“Bernie,” I said. “How could you do that? You aren’t a killer.”
“I am now,” Bernie said. “And it was surprisingly easy. BANG. Ironic, right? All those years when Jimmy would have nothing to do with me. I wasn’t fit to be in the mob. I wasn’t good enough for them. I know what everyone said about me. Bernard isn
’t too bright. Bernard isn’t Italian. His relatives are from one of those inferior eastern European countries. Tea drinkers.” Bernie closed the blade on his knife and put it back in his pocket. “And it turns out I can kill without remorse. Go figure.”
“So, what is this about?” I asked. “Getting even?”
“It’s about getting even and about the chance to start my life over. Someplace far, far away.”
“Why do you want to start it over? You have a good life. A good job. A loving wife.”
“I have a shit job. I hate my job. My father left the company to my brother. He’s two years younger than I am. The company should have been mine. Not that I wanted it. The Concrete Plant. Do you know what we do? We pour concrete into molds and sell the blocks.”
“What would you rather do?” I asked him.
“As it turns out, I’d rather kill people.”
“That’s not a step up from concrete,” Grandma said.
“Anyway, as it happens, I’m brilliant,” Bernie said. “While the La-Z-Boys are going nuts because they can’t find the keys, I found a way to benefit from their stupidity. I don’t know what the keys look like. Don’t care. I don’t know what they open. Don’t care. For that matter, I don’t know if Grandma here is going to be any help to them. Don’t care. What I do know is that they think Grandma has the sacred keys. And they’re willing to pay big bucks for Grandma. Grandma is my ticket out of the Concrete Plant. Even Julius Roman thought I was a genius. He approached me at the Bonino viewing. Said he met a business associate in the alley and was on his way home when he saw me dump Lucca. Said he figured I was going to extort money from the La-Z-Boys, and he wanted in on it.”
“So you killed him?”
“I didn’t need his help, and I wasn’t in a mood to share.”
“What about Jeanine?” I asked.
“Jeanine will be fine. She can cross the driveway and drink wine with her dim-witted mother every night. She can go to Mass and talk to God or Jesus or Mary. Jeanine has lots of friends. The house is paid for. All she has to do is keep up with the taxes and cut the grass once in a while.”
“What happens if they won’t pay your price for Grandma?”
“We’ve already agreed on a price. We just have to work out the swap. Granny for a big bag of money.”
“And me?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Bernie said. “If they don’t want you, I guess I’ll kill you. That might be better for you anyway since I’m told Lou Salgusta is ready to fire up his tools of persuasion.”
“You’re a little nutty,” Grandma said.
“Yeah,” Bernie said. “And I’m tired. It’s been a long day. I’ll see you girls in the morning.”
We watched him leave, dragging the recycling container behind him. The door clicked closed and locked.
“This is a real bummer,” Grandma said.
I looked at the chain around my ankle. “There has to be a way out of here.”
I walked into the bathroom. Toilet and sink. The chains were padlocked around the sink plumbing. I went back to Grandma.
