Four of us nod in agreement with Friedrich. Joaquin’s brow furrows as he speaks next.
“If we rescued Gunter and killed the men who had him, whoever sent this knew Gunter was kidnapped but doesn’t know we saved him.”
I was just thinking that too. I glance back over my shoulder in the direction of the stairs, picturing Liesel sleeping in our bed. Then I look back into the box before I think aloud.
“If we killed the kidnappers, then who is doing this? Shouldn’t whoever hired the mercenaries discovered they’re dead and Gunter’s gone? It’s been several hours. You’d think whoever hired the men would be in communication with them. Has the employer been sending the packages rather than the kidnappers, and they don’t know Gunter’s with us?”
Alejandro shakes his head. “Maybe they know. They could want us to think there’re still more captors. Gunter knew about the cadaver hand because they made him watch them slide the ring on its finger, but he didn’t know about the ear or eye.”
Friedrich leans in a little closer. “But to what avail if Gunter is here? Are they threatening to take him again? They must know that’s pointless if he’s here with you. Do they want to take Anne or someone else in their family?”
They all know Liesel is my special name for Anneliese. No one else has used it. I flip the lid closed since none of us need to look at it anymore. None of us have answers to those questions, so Friedrich poses a different one.
“What are you going to do with that?” He looks between Hisham and me.
It’s Hisham who responds. “I can take care of it.”
Friedrich looks like he has more to say, but he’s clearly weighing his words. “I admitted to my connections to the Camorra earlier because I wanted to help. It’s not something I can hide from Heidi much longer, considering the current circumstances. But there’s more to my role than I shared.”
“Your role?” Joaquin’s natural suspiciousness fills his words.
“I’m more than just friends with a senior member’s son. I’m mostly out, but I was an active member while I was a teenager and in college. I insisted I be released from my obligations when I met Heidi and knew I wanted to be serious with her.”
I narrow my eyes at Friedrich. “It’s not like you can just turn your back and walk away. There was a price to that.”
“I started as a mule, then worked my way up because I’m an excellent negotiator. My best friend’s cousin fucked around and messed up a ton of shit for a major deal I’d worked months on with members of an Albanian mafia. My best friend’s father leads our branch of the Camorra. That syndicate is more like an organization of clans who are often rivals in Campania, especially around Naples.”
I suppose he’s explaining the politics for our sake and Hisham’s. None of us are unaware of how Italian syndicates work.
“It may have been his nephew, but he had no problem commanding me to kill the guy. I made it a show. I proved that while I may want to leave, I’m still loyal and am still a Mafioso even if I don’t work as one day-to-day. It was a violent death, but it was the price for me to get out.”
His gaze sweeps the group before he continues speaking.
“I’ll make some more calls. I fear this isn’t about Gunter, Anne, or any of you so much as it might be about me. It could be my connections, and they’ve targeted Anne and Gunter because they know they’ll be my future in-laws.”
He pulls his phone from his pajama pocket and unlocks it. We watch as he taps the screen a couple of times, then puts his phone to his ear. It shocks me when he speaks Italian instead of German. He sounds like a native. I don’t know if his branch of the Camorra has passed Italian down generation to generation or if someone in his family is a recent immigrant to Germany from Italy, but he’s fluent enough that I’d never guess German was his first language. His English is flavored with a German accent, but his Italian isn’t.
The rest of us stand around and listen to the one-sided conversation. In my family, it’s only Pablo who speaks fluent Italian, so I don’t understand Friedrich. He sounds annoyed for part of it, then is back to normal. The conversation draws on, but he’s listening to most of it. His expression grows grimmer by the minute until he hangs up. He drops his phone into his pocket as he sighs.
“You won’t like this any more than I do.” He’s shaking his head as he speaks.
“What did you find out?” Joaquin’s mind is probably already jumping to what he might have to dig into further.
“It’s a turf war. It’s the SicilianCosa Nostraand the VenetianMala del Brentaagainst my family’s branch of the Camorra andthe’Ndrangheta. If you don’t know, they’re from Calabria. Their name means bravery—manly virtue.”
He scoffs at that last part. None of us interrupt him as he explains more about the Italian syndicates. But as he watches the rest of us, he realizes we don’t need the history lesson.
“It’s the enemy’s side, not mine. This has been quietly brewing for years, but it’s come to a head. I guess they decided to go after my future sister-in-law to draw me back in. When things didn’t progress the way they wanted, they went after Gunter too. I don’t know yet why your investments were the tipping point, but I suspect it has something to do with a balance of power. Not so much you gaining more, but someone losing what they have or not gaining what they want.”
“And why would they want you involved?” There’s a sharper edge to my voice than I intended.
“Because I’m an attorney. They want access to some of my clients. They thought targeting Anne would force me to help them.”
“How long have you suspected this?”
“Since I arrived at the hotel.”
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
