Fatal

‘Alfie …’

Kicking the bedside table, Alfie glared and pointed at Lola. ‘What? You think I’m being a hypocrite? Well, I’m not, the difference is I may be all those things her father was, but I’d never screw over my own. I’m not the bad guy here for once.’

Standing up, Lola tried to calm a pacing Alfie. ‘Sweetheart, I’m sure it’ll work out. I know it hurts.’

Alfie glared. ‘Oh, it ain’t hurting me, it’s screwing me over. Fucked me financially, like I’ve got me bollocks caught in a vice, and to tell you the truth, I wouldn’t want to sort it out now even if I could.’

‘You don’t mean that.’

Alfie’s handsome face reddened. ‘Oh, I do, and if she were here right now, Lola, do you know what I’d do?… I’d fucking kill her.’

And with that, Alfie Jennings stormed out of the room, leaving Lola standing there, a deep sense of unease beginning to creep over her.

9 (#ulink_1bef3714-44b0-5620-abf3-a2e4c62dd248)

The hot Colorado air whirled through the prison window bars in the visitors’ room. It was empty save the two armed guards who stood by the door waiting to be relieved from their lunchtime shift. They nodded a respectful greeting, first to Officer Johnstone and then to Nico as they walked in, making sure the latter’s greeting was clearly seen by the recipient. No one wanted repercussions from a Russo.

Striding across the magnolia-and-steel-blue-painted room, and deciding that for the time being he wouldn’t mention anything about the call from Alice, Nico hugged his brother. It was the first time they’d seen each other since the accident, though they’d spoken briefly on the phone.

‘Nico, I’m so sorry for your loss. Mi si spezza il cuore. My heart breaks.’

Breaking away from the hug, Nico pushed the thought of his daughter, Ally, out of his mind. They weren’t here to talk like women. They were here to talk business. That was all, and that was the way it should be.

He’d already learnt about his daughter’s passing, so there wasn’t much to discuss. Yes, it’d been a waste of a young life. The girl was only sixteen. But that was what she was, a girl. Losing a son, well, that would’ve been different. He knew if that had happened he’d be inconsolable with grief, but a girl, there was only so much sadness he could feel. He hadn’t built his fortunes on weeping beside gravesides for the women in his life.

His father had always taught him that for the right money a man would kill his own mother. Well, he hadn’t needed money, he’d been happy to do it for free. She’d been a whore, though he could’ve forgiven her for that; in one way or another all women were whores. What he couldn’t forgive was the fact that to save her own ass, not wanting to do a stretch inside for handling dirty money, she’d ratted him, Bobby and Salvatore to the cops.

They’d all been given six years whilst she’d walked free and just got on with her life. That had been twenty years ago, but on the day he’d been released, unlike his brothers, he hadn’t gone looking for his favourite meals of passatelli and pussy, he’d gone looking for her. For his mother. And, like Johnny Milano, he had made her pay.

It’d only taken a few hours to find her, grilling peppered swordfish on a barbecue for his cousin’s engagement party, and right there and then he’d held down both of her hands on the grill bars, and when he’d got bored of listening to her screams? Well, he’d put a gun in her mouth and blown her clean away.

But of course, out of respect for his cousin’s engagement, he’d paid for another party, only bigger and better, and out of respect for Italian custom – something very important to him – he’d gone to his mother’s funeral, laying a wreath made up of white lilies and yellow roses – her favourite flowers – at her gravestone.

‘Thank you, Sal,’ he said eventually, his thoughts returning to Ally and Salvatore. ‘She would’ve made somebody a good wife. However, let’s get down to business and why you’re here.’

Salvatore nodded, taking a seat in the deserted visitors’ room. He spoke respectfully, although what he was about to say he knew was the last thing that Nico would want to hear. But what choice did he have? Franny certainly hadn’t given him one and being out of pocket by a couple of million dollars was a sting, and there’d be no hiding that. He chose his words carefully.

‘Nico, as I said when I spoke to you, we’ve a problem. There was coke in Ally’s car ready to be shipped out along the coast, but after the accident, it had to be disposed of by Cabhan.’

Salvatore stopped to stare at his brother. He could see the vein on the side of his head pulsating.

Coldly and simply, Nico said, ‘Go on.’

‘Given the circumstances, Cabhan felt it was the right thing to do. He couldn’t call the cops without them discovering what was in the car, and even if he’d never called anyone, he would’ve been stuck there and we would’ve still been out of pocket anyway. There was no way he could’ve got off that ledge without help. Maybe getting rid of the coke was the only thing he could’ve done.’

‘How much coke are we actually talking about?’

‘Just over two million dollars.’

Nico nodded again, saying nothing. Giving away nothing. His face void of emotion.

After a couple of minutes, Nico said, ‘Tell me, Salvatore, why didn’t I know about the coke before? Why hadn’t you asked my permission before you went ahead with this?’

‘I’m telling you now.’

Slowly and menacingly, Nico leant across the table to his brother. ‘Ora non è prima. Now is not before. Do I need to remind you about respect, Salvatore?’

‘Nico, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like I was disrespecting you. I meant this is the first opportunity I have had to tell you.’

‘But if the accident hadn’t happened, and you hadn’t lost all that money, you wouldn’t have told me about this shipment, huh? Maybe you’re pleased I’m in here. So you can run things without telling me, is that it, Sal?’

Sal stared at his brother. ‘No … No, of course not.’

‘Do you think this is something I should worry about? That my little brother is trying to take over the family business behind my back?’

Salvatore pleaded with his brother, kissing Nico’s hand. ‘Nico, Nico. Please, it’s not like that. Sometimes I want to get ahead. Make decisions without running them past you, because I don’t want to disturb you all the time.’

Nico’s face darkened as his voice rose. He gestured with his arm. ‘Disturb me from what, Salvatore? Does this place look like an opera house to you? Like you’re disturbing me from the opening act of La Traviata?’

‘No, Nico.’

‘No, because I’m in this fucking hellhole night and day. I was the one who took the rap, not you, but I did it for you and you repay me by going behind my back … Tell me something, Sal, should I be blaming you for the accident?’

Salvatore’s face blanched. ‘What?’

‘Ally was your niece, it was your job, whilst I was in here, to look after her like a father.’

‘I did.’

‘No, because if you had she wouldn’t be dead. Why didn’t you drive her home that night?’

‘She insisted on driving and wanted to go with Cabhan.’

Nico slammed both his fists down, his voice rising. ‘And you let her?’

‘I didn’t see it as a problem. Ally drove that car so many times …’ Salvatore trailed off.

‘So who should I be blaming, Sal, if it’s not you? Ally? Cabhan? Who?’

Under pressure, Salvatore’s eyes darted around the room. ‘Maybe … I don’t know. Perhaps there isn’t anyone to blame apart from the accident itself … Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry about all of it, and from now on everything will be run past you as it always was.’

Though Nico’s tone was warmer, his stare was so hard and so even, Salvatore couldn’t look at him.

‘What is this? You’re going soft on me, Sal? Either pussy must be good or business must be. So good that you’re okay with losing our money …’

Reaching across the table, Nico clipped his younger brother across the side of his head, like he had done when they were kids. ‘Huh? I’m right, aren’t I? You’ve got some pussy you haven’t told me about.’

Laughing, Salvatore leant back on the plastic chair. ‘No, it’s just that there’s an answer to this problem.’