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“Because I’m so angry, I want to kill you twice. I gave you false hope. Now you don’t have even that. You’re going to die. It will be painful but not lengthy.”
Franco began to convulse uncontrollably.
“Franco, you’re not good for the family anymore. In time, your men would turn against you. You’re not a king, you’re a tyrant.”
Franco flopped on the carpet like a fish on a dock.
“I’ll tell Elvira you had a heart attack. She’ll believe you died of a broken heart. Only I know the truth. You don’t have a heart to break.”
Franco gagged, spasming.
“Goodbye, Franco. Your punishment doesn’t come from law. Nor does it come from men. It comes from a mother. It’s a mother’s justice.”
Justice.
It was the last word Franco heard before he died.
CHAPTER NINETY-TWO
The next morning, Dante, Gaetano, and Lucia bade Alfredo goodbye in Mussomeli and set out for Palermo, making a happy caravan across the countryside. Dante rode next to Lucia in her dark spectacles, and Gaetano held Agostino on his saddle, ponying two chubby donkeys, each carrying three boys in fresh shirts and shorts, given them by the townspeople of Mussomeli.
The sun climbed a cloudless sky and the wind was temperate. They traveled slowly all day, the horses at a walk, the donkeys balking periodically, and the boys singing and laughing. They stopped for water at regular intervals and ate a big lunch prepared by the grateful townspeople. Nobody minded the slow pace except Dante, who gritted his teeth with impatience. As they got closer to Palermo, all he could think about was Baron Zito.
Dante looked over at Gaetano. “Where’s Bagheria?”
Gaetano nodded that way. “I’ll take you there after we drop the boys in Palermo.”
“I don’t mind going alone.”
“No, I want to go with you.” Gaetano shot him a knowing look. “I can help you.”
“You’re afraid of what I’ll do, aren’t you?”
“Yes. You want revenge, I want justice. Either way, I can’t let you go alone.”
“You can’t stop me, Gaetano.” Dante adored Gaetano, but could no longer avoid conflict on this matter. “I want to see my father face-to-face. He has to account to me for what he did.”
Gaetano pursed his lips. “But I worry you’ll act in the heat of the moment, out of emotion. You might do something rash.”
“Whatever I do, I’ll bear the consequences. If I go to prison, I go to prison. You did.”
Lucia grimaced but didn’t interrupt.
Gaetano shook his head. “It’s not prison I worry about. I fear for your immortal soul. Injustice was done to you, but it’s not rectified by another injustice.”
“Would it be unjust if I killed Baron Zito?” Dante had to say it aloud because it was what they were talking about.
“He didn’t kill you—”
“He may as well have.”
“—and justice isn’t yours to dispense.”
“You tore up Tonelli’s contracts. You dispensed justice.”
“That was because we were in the country. In Palermo, we can appeal to the authorities.”
“Gaetano, at last, be realistic. Did the authorities help you when I first went missing? How about when all those boys did? Will thecarabinieriarrest Baron Zito, a wealthy nobleman, for a crime I can’t prove?”
