“No. And I still don’t believe it was enough for you.”
“You’re a bad judge of character. Is that because you don’t have the same feelings the rest of us have? Or you’re just scared of them? We’ve all got to let go sometimes. Even you.”
Falcone nodded at the pictures. “This is letting go?”
“Probably all it is. Listen, Leo. Unless you’ve got the stomach for it, don’t complicate things. There’s something really bad about this whole thing. Why don’t we just get that girl out from wherever she is then close the door and let the dead stay dead?”
Falcone stared at the pile of photographs. “There could be any amount of information in here. They could be invaluable.”
“Hand those over to the people upstairs and they’ll smile, say thanks, and hate you forever because you just made their lives hell.”
“If I gave them to the DIA—”
“If you gave them to the DIA they’d be all over you, telling you how wonderful you are, and what a credit to the police. Maybe you’d even get the D’Amato woman back in your bed. Then you know what? In six months your career would be dead. You’d be running traffic, cutting up credit cards ”cos you can’t afford them anymore. And the DIA wouldn’t want to know you. Nor would she. No one likes a man who passes the buck, particularly one as dirty as this. You know that already if you’re honest with yourself.“
Falcone took one last look at the pictures then turned his back on them. “Do it,” he ordered.
Peroni laughed, picked them up and pressed them into Falcone’s hands.
“No, sir,” he said, then walked out of the room, closing the door behind him, and paused for a moment, listening. It didn’t take long. Soon there was the whir of distant electric teeth.
Rachele D’Amato was walking down the corridor towards him, smiling, looking as if she owned the place.
“You moved in?” Peroni wondered.
She didn’t answer, just gave him a cold look that said it all.
Peroni pointed at the door. “You go easy with our boy in here. Some of us have fond feelings for him even if he doesn’t feel that way about himself. We don’t like the idea he might get hurt twice.”
“You have absolutely no worries on that front.”
“Yeah. Just joking.” He grinned. “I know. Really. I know. Nothing could bring you two back together, could it?”
“I got a call asking me to come. You people should talk to each other more often.” She pointed towards an open door at the end of the corridor. “There.”
Vergil Wallis sat stiff-backed, eyes closed, waiting patiently.
WHEN BUCCI OPENED UP it was hard to stop him. Neri listened until he’d heard enough then motioned for him to shut up. “You could have told me, Bruno. You owed me that.”
“I didn’t—” Bucci looked scared. He was hunting for the right words. “I talked with Mickey about it. Once. He said you knew. It was part of the deal.”
Neri’s big shoulders heaved in a humourless laugh. “Part of the deal?”
“Yeah,” Bucci replied coolly. “Pretty stupid of me, huh? The thing is… I don’t like the idea of you getting fucked around.” He flashed a cold stare at Neri. “But it’s not easy telling a man his wife’s cheating on him. With his son. I don’t know how to handle that kind of thing. I guess I knew Mickey was lying. To be honest though, I wondered how grateful you’d be if I came running with the news.”
Now that Neri thought about it, Bucci had been acting a little odd for the past few weeks. He was a good man, a loyal lieutenant. Neri could understand his point of view too. Mickey’s perfidy was outside the box. He couldn’t expect a street hood like Bucci to get involved in that kind of family betrayal.
“It’s Mickey, you know,” Bucci said suddenly. “Not her. I’m not saying you shouldn’t blame her, but I don’t think she wants it. Not really. You don’t see Mickey the way the rest of us do. He just doesn’t give up. He just goes on and on until you give him what he wants.”
Neri thought about that. “But she’s got other men, right?”
“I don’t think so. You want my honest opinion? It’s just boredom. Nothing more.”
Boredom. Neri could understand that one all right.
“I’m sorry, boss,” Bucci said softly. “If you want me to ship out or something when this is done I’ll understand. I don’t like letting you down.”
Neri’s grey eyes shone with amusement. It was a good show of contrition. “You let me down? Come on, Bruno. Let’s not play games with each other.”
“All the same—”
Neri stared at him and Bucci fell silent. “All the same nothing. Let me tell you a little secret. I’ve been getting bored too. Been thinking about that for a while. I got a little house in Colombia. Way away from all the trouble. No one can touch me there.” He nodded upstairs, in the direction of Adele and Mickey. “And I could leave some excess baggage behind too.”
“Sure.” Bucci nodded.
“Would you run things for me when I’m gone? All straight and honest? This shit with the DIA won’t come close to you, I promise. There’s just my name in those files. I’d be wanting to give a few people some leaving presents, you understand. Something to remember me by. I owe them that. But you get a clear run. Nothing touches your name.”
Bucci shuffled awkwardly on the chair. “You want me to act like I’m the boss?”
“No. I want you to be the boss. I can’t do this forever. Someone’s got to take over. I’d rather it was a man of my choosing, not some bastard from outside.”
“I could do it,” Bucci said. “I don’t think Mickey would be too keen.”
“Mickey, Mickey. Leaving this Adele crap to one side… what do you think of him? Be honest. Say I could straighten him out. Would it be worth it? Is he ever going to make something?”
“I don’t know,” Bucci said carefully. “I don’t feel qualified to make that judgement. There’s things he’s been doing I don’t understand.”
“What things?”
Bucci rolled open his big hands in a gesture of despair. “I dunno. Things he don’t want any of us to hear about. And I’ll tell you this, boss. He’s good at that. Keeping stuff quiet.”
Neri wondered about all the crap that had come out into the open these past couple of days. Falcone wasn’t going to leave them alone. It was only a matter of time before he came back, maybe with papers, turning the place upside down. “We’re going to have to hole up here for a couple of hours. There’ll be cops swarming front and back. You get busy, Bruno. Find out how long we’ve got before they come calling again. Find out where they got people waiting out there, who needs to be paid to make those guys out there look the other way for a while. When we can crawl out from under their noses, we go out to play.”
“To play?”
Neri laughed. “Yeah. If I’m going into retirement I want one last piece of fun first. I got some evening up to do, all round. When that’s done I’m gone. You call someone. Make sure I can get the hell out of here come tomorrow night, some way nice and discreet. The Albanian boys can do something. They owe me favours.”
Bucci blinked. “Tomorrow night?”
“That too soon for you?” Neri cast an eye around the room. “I got to tell you, Bruno, I can’t wait to be out of this dump.”
Bucci didn’t seem too happy.
“What’s up?” Neri asked. “I’m offering you your own empire on a plate.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful. I’ll see you right. But there’s… stuff I can’t control.”
It was obvious what he meant. “You’re still worried about Mickey?”
Bucci shrugged. He was too polite, too respectful to push it. Neri looked at Bruno Bucci and wondered why he never got a son like that. Bucci was the one guy he could rely on. And if he wanted to fuck with Mickey when the time came, what the hell? To his surprise, it wasn’t the news about him and Adele that made him feel that way. He just wasn’t particularly warm to his own flesh and blood at that moment. They messed up his life. They leeched off him and gave nothing back in return. This wasn’t what family was supposed to be about. As he got older, as he felt less need for the physical pleasures that Adele could deliver with her own particular skill, he was, he realized, beginning to feel happier in the company of men. He knew where he stood with them. So long as he kept to his part of the deal—being a good, fair, profitable boss—they would stick by him.