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“You are a guest with our family, Signor Pedretti,” she replies, “so perhaps you do not understand our ways, but it is not usual for lower-level men to interrupt my meetings on a whim. However…we were, in fact, just discussing the fallout from the infiltration of the family by PacSyn, and the fate of the traitor Palombino. Perhaps you can shed a little more light on the subject for us.”
“Anthony Palombino is dead,” I tell her. “The cleaners have done their jobs by now. As for the rest of it—” I come closer to the group. “This is about a second traitor in the Family, Maestra, so I would feel better if everyone here put their guns on the table. Right now.”
“Watch your mouth,” Barone says at once. “You don’t give orders around here, Soldano.”
“All the same,” my mother says calmly. “Fabrizio is my son, myeldestson, and will one day lead this Family, Giancarlo. Long after you and I are gone, of course. But perhaps it is about time that he was involved in a more senior role. And of course, listened to, as my successor. So why don’t you all do as he says?”
There’s a long pause as both Marty G and Barone consider her request. Gargiulo is the first to shrug, take out his gun, and put it on the table. Barone follows his lead a moment later.
I give an up-nod to the Shadow. “You too, Falco.”
“No.”
“Humor him, Stefano,” my mother says.
Then, and only then, does the Shadow step forward and put his gun on the coffee table along with the others. But from the glare he gives me as he retreats again, I can see he’s pretty damn unhappy about it.
Only one of these men is the traitor. But it was Max’s idea to disarm anyone in my mother’s vicinity, a suggestion made on the drive over, and I’m glad he made it. The last thing I want is for someone to try to be a hero when the truth comes out, and end up shooting the wrong person in the middle of a melee.
“What the fuck is going on?” Marty G says. “We got a lot of business to get through today, Soldano, and far as I know, the business with your mole is done.”
“It’s almost done,” I say, my eyes traveling between the three men. “The thing is, when the crew and I had Pony cornered down at the docks, he got on the phone to someone. Someone who he seemed to think might be able to get him out of the situation. Now, that was Pony’s mistake—but whoever picked up on the other end? That was a mistake, too. Pony wasn’t in the most rational of minds at that moment. He didn’t use the usual security protocols to conceal the phone number he was dialing, like he had on his burner phone.”
You could hear a pin drop in this room, if anyone actually had a pin to drop. I can see my mother edging away a little from the men.
“And?” Marty asks. “Whose number was it?”
“Don’t rush the story, Gargiulo,” Max says mildly. “It’s a good one.”
“Last time I came here with evidence, some people in this room objected to the fact that the Castellanis had a hand in investigating. But not my mother. She understands trust better than anyone else in this Family—and she understands when it’s important to gooutsidethe Family, too. In this case, I asked Johnny Jacopo for his help again in breaking into Pony’s phone and tracking not the origin of the call, but the destination.”
Barone scoffs. “The Castellanis have been trying to run this city for decades, starting with Ciro, and that scar-faced son of his is just the same. We can’t trust them, Maestra.”
“It’s interesting, you say that, Barone,” I go on conversationally, “because when Jack ran the number, it came from a phone inthishouse. Now, as I understand it, you three were all here yesterday. Correct?”
“There were a hundred people here at the Villa yesterday,” the Shadow protests. “Staff, gardeners, guards—and yeah, us three.” It’s the most I’ve ever heard him say in one go, I think.
“That’s true,” I go on. “But there weren’t a hundred people here who knew that I’m Anna-Vittoria’s son, or who might’ve previously shared that information with Chuckles Moran. There weren’t a hundred people in the Villa who knew about the job at First National. And there’s sure as hell not a hundred people here who have the same phone number that Pony rang. There’s only one of them.”
Behind me, I hear the quiet clicking as Max dials the number on his own phone. A few seconds later, a phone in the room starts ringing—and then everything seems to explode.
Giancarlo Barone punches Marty G square in the jaw, knocking him to the ground, and then throws himself toward my mother, who stumbles back in surprise.
But I’m already jumping at her, tucking her underneath me in an instinct whose ferocity surprises me. Max moves in front of us with arms outstretched, ready to take on Barone—
But it’s not necessary.
Behind all of us, the Shadow steps forward, picked up one of the heavy iron models of a corpse from Pompeii, and without a word, smashes it down on Barone’s head.
Barone drops at once, dead before he hits the floor.
“Are you alright?” I ask my mother urgently.
“I am perfectly well,” she says breathlessly, even with a little irritation, but I’m relieved to hear it. “Please get off me, Fabrizio, you’re very heavy. I see why they like to call you ‘Bricker.’”
I stand, offering my hand to help her up, but the Shadow rushes over and tries to push me aside, about to hustle my mother into the safe room I know is at the back of the salon.
“I amperfectly well, Stefano,” she repeats to him, a little more irritation in her voice as she pulls away from us both. “Martino—”
