He returned to the four men with him on the terrace. “You’re all straight about this? You know what’s got to be done?”
Bucci nodded.
“No doubts?” Neri said. “No more questions? When we leave here, it’s a one-way trip. You don’t get to change your minds. None of us.
“You wake up tomorrow morning and this is a different world. You wake up the day after and you’re talking to Bruno here. He’s your boss and he’ll be a good man. Plus you know what you get from me in the way of gratitude. You’ll be happy guys. Rich guys. You got opportunities. This city’s yours. Understand?”
They were sound men. They wouldn’t let him down.
“You gotta understand this too,” Neri added. “No fuck-ups. We got no room for them. Any one of you fucks up it reflects on everyone else. So everyone else gets to pass judgement on you. That clear?”
“They got that, boss,” Bucci said.
“I hope so,” Neri muttered then sucked on the dying cigar and threw the stub over the railings, watching the red light flare as it fell. “You know when the cops are coming?”
“Soon. Maybe half an hour.”
“And you think we can get out of here clean?”
“Piece of cake,” Bucci said confidently. “We get your car up front really quickly. Franco here bundles inside. Then he’s gone like he’s running for his life. Stupid bastards will be after him straightaway. We got some more cars out back. We just crawl off through the Campo. They’ll never see us.”
Neri stared at him. “You know that? You paid your dues to these bastards?”
“Yeah.”
“See?” Neri said, stabbing a finger at Bucci. “You got a guy here who knows how to handle himself. You look after me. Then he looks after you. That’s how it works. Now you wait for me downstairs. I want to talk to the family. Bruno, you send Mickey up. I want things straight with him.”
They left without saying another word. Neri sat down at the big table. Crumbs from breakfast were still on it. There was a noise at the door then Mickey stumbled in, looking lost, scared.
He got up and walked over to the kid, took him in his arms, kissed him on both cheeks.
“Mickey, Mickey. Son. Why are you looking so fucking miserable? This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it? To become a made man?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled.
Neri tweaked his cheek. “You’re still mad at me? Over our little falling out earlier? Mickey. If I hear stuff like that I got to ask. You understand that, don’t you?”
Mickey stared at the floor. “That was asking?”
“Yeah.” Neri laughed. “So your old man’s a bastard. Why d’you think you live in a place like this? Why d’you think you never went short of a damn thing? That little scene is behind us now. I’m giving you the present I should have given you years ago. This is your coming of age, son. You got to go through with it. I blame myself for not letting you get on with it earlier. I’ve pampered you, Mickey, and that was wrong. A father wants to shield his boy from all the shit you get in the world. Can’t blame him for that. But it don’t work. Not forever. Every man’s got to prove himself sometime. Now’s your chance.”
He embraced him again, squeezing hard.
“You’re not scared, are you?” Neri whispered. “Tell me. You can be frank with your own father.”
“No.” He looked terrible. He was back on the dope again, Neri guessed. “It’s just—”
“There’s nothing wrong with being scared, Mickey. It clears your head sometimes. First time I killed a man I was real terrified. He was some old asshole who was pimping out in Monti. Wouldn’t pay his dues. Thought he was bigger than he was. I stood outside that pit of his with a shotgun underneath my coat for ten minutes, wondering if I’d got the guts to go inside. Then you know what?”
“What?” Mickey wondered. His blonde hair looked more stupid than ever. Neri wondered if he’d been piling on the dye that evening, as if it might protect him from something.
“I realized if I didn’t kill him, some fucker would come along and kill me. That’s the way it works in this business. Sometimes you don’t get choices. You just go out and do your job. And…” Neri drew Mickey close and whispered in his ear, “… you want to know something else? It gets easier. The first time, you got doubts, you wonder what it’s like when the light goes out in some poor bastard’s eyes. You’ll be thinking that, won’t you?”
“Maybe.”
“No. For sure. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t. The point is… second time it ain’t so bad. Third time out, you’re curious. You’re watching, wondering what’s going on in his head. You’re looking into his face and thinking, hey, maybe I’m doing the moron a favour! He gets to know some big secret quicker than me. Huh?”
He grinned and slapped the kid on the shoulder. “Except there is no big secret. Fourth time out you know that for sure. They’re just breathing one moment and gone the next. Which is as it should be. So after that you don’t even think about it at all. If it’s some scumbag you hate you even get some pleasure out of it too. Trust your old man. It’s in your blood, Mickey. Once you get the feel it just comes natural.”
He didn’t look convinced. He didn’t look as if he were all there. “Why a cop?”
“Because that’s what I need. Does that worry you?”
“No one likes it when a cop gets killed.”
Neri wrinkled his nose, not liking what he was hearing. “Depends on the cop.” He nodded downstairs. “You got to make your mark. You’re the boss’s son. Don’t ever forget it. You’ll never get to lead them if they think you’re on the same level. Understand?”
Mickey nodded. Neri leaned forward and took the gun from his son’s jacket. He examined it carefully, checking the magazine, ensuring it was fully loaded.
“Killing someone’s the easiest thing in the world, provided you do it right. Just walk up, pop the bastard quick in the head, and it’s done. Work on it, Mickey. It’s a talent you’re going to need. On your way now.”
“And afterwards?”
A shifty look crossed Neri’s face. “Didn’t I mention that? Afterwards things get a little hot for all of us around here. Best we don’t hang around this place for a while. We’re going to be flexible for the next few days. You just keep that phone of yours switched on.”
“What? Where am I supposed to go?”
He was so slow. Sometimes Neri wondered whether he really was the kid’s father at all.
He handed the gun back. “I’ll call. Trust your old man. He’s got your best interests at heart.”
Mickey shoved the pistol back into his jacket. “OK,” he murmured listlessly.
“And when you see Adele tell her to come up here. I want to talk to her.”
Neri had been thinking about this side of things. Maybe there was another way of dealing with it. But that would have been indulgent. That could have wider repercussions. He didn’t want to complicate matters any more than necessary. “You know, now I come to think about it, I never should have swallowed that story about you and her. I always did believe the bad stuff about you and that’s unfair. I owe you an apology, son. You never did get on with Adele, did you? You and her just rub each other up the wrong way.”
“Never did,” the kid said, not quite able to meet Neri’s eyes.
COSTA WAS WALKING down the corridor to the big conference room for Falcone’s briefing when she came round the corner.