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When I hang up, the skipper comes over.
“We have a clear weather forecast for the rest of the day,” he says.
I take my gun from the table and stand to tuck it into my waistband. “I need a couple of hours in Bastia. Go on home. I’ll make my way back by car.”
He salutes me. “I’ll leave straight away then.”
Ten armed men wait in three cars that are parked in the street. I get into the back of the car in the front and give the driver instructions.
The sun hasn’t climbed high into the sky yet when I bust Uncle Nico’s bedroom door open and charge inside.
His naked body is splayed out on the bed, the covers thrown aside, and an equally naked Emilia straddles him, riding his cock. She jumps off him and crawls to the edge of the bed, getting tangled in the blankets in her haste to escape.
My uncle pushes up onto his elbows. “What in the name of God are you doing?” He yanks the sheet up to cover his body. “Where are my men? They’re fired for letting you upstairs when I told them I don’t want to be disturbed.”
I saved him the effort. They’re dead.
I don’t miss the fear that passes over his face even as he says with annoyance, “You better have a good reason for barging in like this.”
Emilia grabs a shirt from the floor and pulls it on with jerky movements while eyeing the exit I block.
I take my gun from my waistband, flick off the safety, and point the barrel at him. “I do, in fact. Two good reasons. One, you dared to go near my wife. Two, you betrayed me.”
His skin turns pasty white. “Whatever you think is going on—”
Pop.
Blood and gray matter splatter the white headboard, covering the gold and creamy browns of the hand-painted angels.
Emilia screams.
I turn the gun on her. “Shut up.”
She clamps her lips together and raises shaky hands.
“How long have you been fucking him?”
She steals a sideway glance at the mess on the bed and pinches her eyes shut. “Since the casino.”
I cross the floor. When I speak closer to her, she jumps.
“What did he tell you? I know you’re not just a pretty face.” I tap the barrel against her temple. “There’s brains in here too.”
“Please,” she whimpers. “He paid me. That’s all.”
“To do what?”
She opens her eyes a crack and stares at me through the slits. “He paid me to sleep with you.”
“Why?”
“He was going to take pictures.”
“Why?”
“To show them to your wife,” she says, trembling from head to toe.
“Why?”
