Chương 5
Paulie kept looking at Lorenzo’s right hand.
“Who called you?” Lorenzo asked.
“I told Marco. I don’t know.”
“Who were you warning?”
“No one.”
Lorenzo slid a photograph of the unsent message across the table.
Paulie’s nostrils widened. “It was about Sophia. I saw her talking to you.”
“You heard what Emma said.”
“Everyone heard.”
“Who needed to know?”
Paulie rubbed his bound wrists. “Matteo told me to watch the service. That’s all.”
“Why?”
“He said Sophia was unstable.”
“Did she look unstable?”
Paulie glanced toward Marco. “People look different when their kid’s life is on the line.”
Lorenzo leaned back.
The answer was too knowing.
“You stood beside Emma’s bed,” he said.
Paulie’s face changed.
Only for a fraction of a second, but it was enough.
“Sophia saw you at the stairs,” Lorenzo continued. “Matteo showed her a picture of someone beside Emma while she slept.”
“I never touched the kid.”
“That was not my question.”
Paulie’s lips moved as if testing several answers.
“I didn’t touch her,” he repeated.
“Who took the picture?”
“One of Matteo’s guys.”
“Name.”
“I don’t know.”
“You were in the picture.”
“No. I was at the house.”
“You were at both.”
“I drove.”
“Who took Lucia from Sophia?”
Paulie stared at the table.
Marco stepped forward. Lorenzo lifted one finger, and he stopped.
“Paulie,” Lorenzo said, “you are not important enough for Matteo to protect. You know this. He left his car at an airport and moved the child before your warning reached him. He did not call you to help. He called to learn whether you had failed.”
Paulie’s breathing quickened.
“You have two useful things,” Lorenzo continued. “What you know and the fact that Matteo does not yet know how much you have said. Every minute you remain silent reduces the value of both.”
Paulie swallowed.
“He was supposed to call from the prepaid number,” he said.
“What was he supposed to say?”
“Where to meet.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
Lorenzo looked at him until Paulie’s shoulders sagged.
“For the next step,” Paulie said. “That’s what he called it.”
“What step?”
“He was waiting for a vote.”
“A vote by whom?”
“The captains.”
The answer shifted the room.
The DeLuca organization had seven senior captains with control over different territories and businesses. Lorenzo had inherited their formal loyalty from his father, but formal loyalty was only the first layer of power. The rest depended on money, fear, favors, memory, and the belief that Lorenzo could not be moved.
Grief had interrupted that belief.
“What vote?” Marco asked.
Paulie licked rain-dried lips. “Matteo said Lorenzo wasn’t fit. Said he was making mistakes. Cutting off collections. Missing meetings. Letting people keep money because he couldn’t be bothered to argue.”
Lorenzo had done all of those things.
“Matteo wanted them to name an acting boss,” Paulie continued. “Temporary. Until things settled.”
“Matteo,” Lorenzo said.
Paulie nodded.
“And Lucia?”
“I don’t know.”
Lorenzo reached across the table and placed the silver swallow in front of him.
Paulie stared at it.
“Why was this tied to her crib?”
“I swear, I don’t know.”
“Wrong answer.”
“I don’t know why. Matteo only said the bird had to stay with the baby. He checked it every time.”
“For a photograph?”
Paulie’s eyes lifted.
Lorenzo saw the truth before Paulie spoke.
“Yes,” Paulie whispered.
“How often did he photograph it?”
“Every few days.”
“To send to whom?”
“I never saw.”
“Did he photograph the baby’s face?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes just her hand with the necklace.”
“Why hide her before the vote?”
Paulie shut his mouth.
Marco said, “Because a grieving boss is weak. A father hunting for a living child is dangerous.”
Paulie looked at the door.
Lorenzo understood the rest.
Matteo had not kept Lucia alive merely as leverage. He had kept her hidden because her survival would expose the fire as an attack and restore Lorenzo’s purpose before the captains could remove him. After the vote, Lucia could become a bargaining chip—or disappear permanently.
“When is the vote?” Lorenzo asked.
Paulie said nothing.
Lorenzo picked up the necklace.
“Today,” Paulie said. “Four o’clock.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Marco stepped closer.
“I don’t,” Paulie insisted. “They send the location an hour before. I’m not invited.”
“Which captains support Matteo?”
“Russo’s people. Maybe Calabrese. Maybe Donati.”
“Maybe is not an answer.”
“Those are the names I heard.”
“Who opposes him?”
“Bellini.”
Marco’s eyebrows lifted. “I am not a captain.”
“Not you. Your brother.”
Marco looked away.
His younger brother, Enzo Bellini, controlled the trucking and warehouse operations on the New Jersey side. The brothers had not spoken socially in two years, though they attended the same meetings and stood beside the same coffins. Their disagreement had begun over money and hardened around pride.
“Why would Enzo oppose Matteo?” Lorenzo asked.
Paulie’s gaze shifted between them. “He said Matteo was rushing. Said a man shouldn’t lose his chair while his wife was still warm in the ground.”
Marco’s face revealed nothing.
Lorenzo rose.
“Keep Paulie here.”
Paulie lurched forward. “You said what I knew had value.”
“It does.”
“What happens to me?”
“That depends on what happens to my daughter.”
Outside the conference room, Marco shut the door.
“You should call Enzo,” Lorenzo said.
“He will assume I need something.”
“You do.”
“He will enjoy it.”
“That is a survivable consequence.”
Marco gave him a flat look, then took out his phone.
Enzo answered on the seventh ring.
“What?” he said loudly enough for Lorenzo to hear.
“It’s Marco.”
“I know who it is.”
“I need to see you.”
“Then look at a photograph.”
“It concerns the vote.”
A pause followed.
“There is no vote,” Enzo said.
“Paulie Renda says otherwise.”
Another pause, longer this time.
“Where are you?” Enzo asked.
“At the office.”
“I won’t come there.”
“Name a place.”
“You remember Mama’s apartment?”
“It was sold.”
“I bought it.”
Marco’s jaw tightened. “Why?”
“Because unlike you, I enjoyed being alive there. Forty minutes.”
May you like
The call ended.
Marco slid the phone into his pocket.
