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“Just someone who wants to help.”
“Who sent you?”
“No one.”
“You’ve taken this upon yourself?”
“Yes, I fear for the children of my city. They deserve justice.”
The silversmith’s face softened into knowing lines. “Now I understand who sent you, young man.”
Gaetano hurried down the streetto the fine house on the corner. The silversmith had told him that the kidnapped boy, named Vittorio Curcio, lived here with his older sisters and his parents, Vito Curcio and his wife, Eleanora Sebina. Trying to contain his excitement, Gaetano knocked on the door, which was opened by a young housekeeper in a neat white cap.
“May I help you, sir?”
Gaetano introduced himself. “I’d like to see Signor Curcio or Signora Sebina.”
“They’re not at home.”
“When do you expect them back? I’ve spoken with the silversmith.” Gaetano lowered his voice. “I know I can help them.”
The housekeeper hesitated. “The family is away for several weeks. If you were sent by the silversmith, you’ll understand why.”
“Several weeks, really?” Gaetano asked, surprised. “Leaving for so long makes them harder to contact. Do you know if they’ve already been contacted?”
“My boss knows what he’s doing, and that’s all I’ll say.”
“Where did they go?”
“They have another home.”
“Where?”
“I can’t say. Goodbye.” The housekeeper started to close the door, but Gaetano stopped her with his foot.
“But it doesn’t make sense for him to go—”
“Move your foot, sir!”
Gaetano complied, and she slammed the door in his face.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
It was almost midnight, and Franco, Roberto, and their men hid on horseback behind cypresses that flanked the dirt road. It was the route to Palermo, and this was the last night for Michele, thegabellottowho had left the family, to take his lemons to La Cala.
Roberto looked over, his silhouette indistinct in the darkness. “Are you sure about this, brother?”
“Yes. The others have to see the consequences.” Franco wasn’t surprised to hear Roberto balk. His twin had been remote since Niall had been dispatched at the auction.
“But Michele is harmless. Let him go.”
“We can’t. I told you, I’ll take care of it.”
They fell silent when they heard the approach of Michele’s caravan. The donkeys snorted and brayed, and thebracciantisang a tuneless song. Franco peered between the trees and spotted the caravan. He counted six donkeys and seven men, including Michele in the lead. Franco, Roberto, and his men easily outnumbered them.
“Wait till I give the order.” Franco watched Michele ride closer, unaware of the ambush awaiting him.
My wife just had a third baby, and my mother is sick.
