He was coming out of the boathouse when he saw the two meatheads from the used car lot on the dock, coming toward him. Dom's face, after taking a dive through the plate-glass window, was covered with band-aids. Anthony was a step ahead of him. He had a crowbar in his hand this time.
Ray reached back, felt the bulge of the Colt under his shirt in the small of his back, but he decided not to draw it. They were twenty feet away when Ray said, "What a surprise. You guys showing up at Joey's and you don't even know him."
"We know you though, don't we?" Anthony said.
He moved toward Ray now, raising the crowbar over his head. When he got close he swung big and wild and Ray stepped back and he missed him, swishing air, Anthony puffing, breathing hard.
Ray said, "Come on, you pussy, is that all you've got?"
Anthony came at him again, swinging and missing with his right hand, going all the way around with the crowbar and this time Ray stepped in, chopped him between his neck and shoulder, a karate shuto, and sent him in the lake.
Dom came at him, balancing prodigious weight on little feet. Threw a big angry, off-balance punch at Ray and Ray sidestepped it and hit him in the ribs with a body shot that drove him in the cold October water.
Ray moved down the dock, turned when he was halfway across the lawn and saw them drenched, coming out of the lake.
Chapter Seventeen
Angela put her purse on the kitchen counter and opened a bottle of Chianti Classico, her last '97 Antinori, and poured herself a glass. She was tense, nerves frazzled after a two- hour dinner with her father and his surprise guest, cousin Joey from America, visiting for a few months, staying at her father's villa outside Rome.
Joey had talked about himself through three courses: tagliatelle and fresh white truffles that the owner, Signor Moro, sliced on their pasta at the table. The secondo piatto was veal chops that were as thick as a Russian novel. That was followed by insalata verde and formaggio, tiramisu and espresso.
Joey had talked about his house on Lake St Clair in an area called Harrison Township. You should see the sunsets, Joey said. He talked about his boat and about his cars, talking with his mouth full. Her father did not seem to listen or pay attention. Sat hunched over his plate, shoveling food in his mouth, eyes moving around the room.
At one point, Joey said, "What's with him?" Pointing to Mauro, her father's bodyguard sitting at the bar. "What's the story, Unk, you don't eat with the hired help?"
He grinned and gulped more Amarone, drinking it too fast.
Her father said, "Do not ask about matters that are not your concern."
Angela liked that, her father telling him to mind his own business. She could see that Joey annoyed him too.
Joey grinned, "Take it easy, Unk, I'm just having some fun with you, yanking your chain."
He rubbed his eyes and wiped his fingers on his pants.
Angela said, "What brings you to Rome?"
"You know, get away for a while," Joey said. "I been here four days, I've got to ask you where the hot spots are at? Deadest town I ever been to in my life. Lights out at like nine o'clock."
Angela said, "What are you looking for?"
"Action," Joey said. "What do you think?"
It had been a couple of years since she had seen him. He looked older, heavier, most of the weight around his middle like a tire that had been inflated, and his hair was thinning on top, but these imperfections did not seem to affect his confidence. He reminded her of an actor playing the role of a TV Mafia character.
When Joey got up to use the toilet, Angela said to her father, "What is the matter? You have not said a word."
"How can I?" her father said. "He never closes his mouth — even when he is eating."
He picked up his glass, sipped his wine. She could tell he liked it, his expression changing when he took a sip. His eyes looked across the room and then back to her.
He said, "Are you still seeing that street punk?"
"Are you going to bring that up again?" He did business with Roberto, but did not approve of him. She had been so careful, trying to keep it a secret, and he had somehow found out. She was going to say: I see who I want, but said, "Do we have to talk about this now, ruin the dinner, our evening?" Because of Roberto, he had stopped supporting her, so as far as Angela was concerned, she was on her own. She could see who she wanted.
Her father took another sip of wine and fixed his attention on her. "Are you doing okay? You have money to live?"
"I'm fine," Angela said. Which was not completely truthful. She was almost out of money, but with her share of the ransom she could keep going for a while. She just had to get it from Roberto.
"I want you to help me with Joey. You need money, I pay you to come over and take him out, get him away from me. He's driving me out of my mind."
"Why is he here?" Angela said.
"He is in trouble."
"What kind of trouble?" She looked up and saw Joey coming back to the table.
"I will tell you," her father said.
Angela said, "Why is he your problem?"
"What can I do? It's for my sister."
After dinner her father ordered a glass of grappa. Angela and Joey walked down the street to see the Trevi fountain. Angela took his arm and they moved through the crowd, around the side of the fountain to the front to get a better view.
Joey said, "What's this?"
"One of the hot spots, the big attractions of Rome," Angela said.
"All I see is a fountain. When I say action I'm talking about nightclubs."
Angela said, "No visitor can leave Rome without seeing the Trevi fountain. It's called Trevi because three streets meet here: tre vie. Do you understand?" "I know," Joey said. "I seen it before." He was staring at the fountain. He pointed at a statue and said, "Who's that again?"
"Neptune," Angela said. "God of the sea."
"That's right," Joey said.
They walked up to the edge of the pool.
Joey said, "Look at all the coins in there."
"People throw in three thousand euros a day," Angela said. "For good luck."
He grinned. "Tell me you don't believe that bullshit."
A vendor, an aggressive little dark-skinned Asian, approached them with an armful of roses. "Want to buy?" he said to Joey, big smile.
"No want to buy," Joey said. "Get the fuck out of here. "
The vendor kept smiling and said, "Want to buy?"
Joey said, "Say that one more time I'm going to pick you up and throw you in the fucking water."
"Take it easy," Angela said. "He doesn't understand you."
"Let's have some fun," Joey said. "Put Unk to bed, hit some clubs. What do you say?"
She told him she was too tired, but would pick him up the next morning, and show him the sights of Rome.
"Oh, boy," Joey said. "I can hardly wait."
Angela carried her wine into the bathroom, placed the stemmed glass on the sink and filled the tub with hot water. She was going to soak and relax, drink her wine. She could see the Colosseum lit up in the distance. This view was the reason she had fallen in love with the apartment. It was expensive, but her father was helping her in those days.
She took her clothes off and dropped them in a pile on the bathroom floor and stepped in the tub, taking her time, getting used to the hot water. When she was all the way under, water covering her shoulders, she heard a sound — like a door closing. She thought it was Roberto and was disappointed, she wanted to be alone tonight. More than that, she could see their relationship coming to an end. She had lost interest in him, but didn't have the energy to tell him tonight, so she would have to think of an excuse to get rid of him.
She said, "Roberto, is that you?" And then thought, who else would it be? "I'm in here." They were supposed to split up the money. With her share she was going to get away for a while — from her father who was trying to run her life, and from Roberto who needed someone to run his, but not her. She was thinking about Greece. Cruise the islands, lay in the sun for a week. Then she was thinking about going to Paris. Stay at a nice hotel, shop and eat and drink wine.