“Who thefuckdo you think you are, you little—” Jimmy G starts, but Vicario slaps his hand down on the table.
“Enough,” he says wearily. “The Church would not bless your union, yet you expect us to? We cannot, and you should not expect it. I don’t know what my old friend Tino was thinking—but what’s done is done. Of more concern to me is you bringing the Irish boy here.Here, Luciano. He is not one of us. He does not belong here.”
“I'm the natural-born son of Tino Morelli,” Finch says. “I belong here the same as all of you.”
Before we got anywhere near Chicago, I made Finch promise to keep his mouth shut in the meeting room. He swore he would. But I know him, and I knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself.
Besides, he has a right to defend himself.
He steps forward beside me, and the guards let him go. Maybe they think he doesn’t pose much of a threat. They haven’t heard his mouth in action, yet.
“Bastardo!” Clemenza shouts, turning his back on Finch, and others among the older men call out agreement, turning their backs likewise.
“I’m a Morelli by blood, and I have a right to speak,” Finch says stubbornly to Carmine Vicario. “You can try to shout me down all you like, but I have a right to be here. And this concerns my heritage both as a Donovananda Morelli.”
“Let the kid stay,” Sonny calls, and the West Coasters all voice their agreement.
The room falls silent eventually, and we all wait for Vicario to make his decision.
At the end of the table, the old man muses for a moment, before he nods his head. “We will hear your proposal, Luciano, and you can keep your Irish boy with you for now. But I must warn you not to expect anything from us. You disrespected us once before, and you show no remorse for it now. But I am a fair man, and so I will hear you out.”
Vicario is no fool. He senses the prospect for power and money, I’m sure of it.
I take a deep breath. “I’ve come here today to ask your help in removing Maggie Donovan. We believe she’s a threat to our Family and to yours. We propose to remove her, and let Tara Donovan take over the family. Tara has no interest in our kind of business. She’ll follow in her father’s footsteps and take the Donovans back onto the straight and narrow…which means more opportunities for us.”
There's a dead silence after I say this, and then Clemenza gives a horrible chuckle.
“You're asking us to help you double your reach? You killed my ally and my own blood, Sam Fuscone, and now you have the gall to askmeto help you extend your empire?”
“There are opportunities forallof us, and I have no idea what happened to Sam Fuscone.”
“You snapped his neck without provocation!” Clemenza bellows, spit flying from his lips. “That’s how your brother ended up in the hospital, shot by poor Sam as he tried to defend himself!”
So. Father Benedict has found his tongue.
“My brother was gravely injured in a bomb sent by the Donovans,” I say bluntly. “He may not live.” Clemenza isn’t quick enough to hide the surprise on his face. That reaction tells me his fragile connection with that family has crumbled entirely. He has no idea what’s going on.
“It’s no loss if your dumb brother dies,” he says, and he can’t hide his sadistic pleasure at the idea. Beside me, Finch makes a movement, and I put my hand on his wrist, squeezing lightly. “And it doesn’t make up for your attack on Fuscone.”
“I didn’t kill Fuscone,” I say again. “And those petty squabbles are not why I’m here. I’m here to remind you that the Donovans were formidable opponents once, and they’re primed to run Boston again under Maggie. And if the Donovans are making open attacks onmyFamily in New York City, it won’t be long before they turn on the rest of you, especially when they see our lack of unity.”
I look around the table to see how my message has been received so far. Alessi and Rossi, troubled, are frowning at each other, sharing a private, silent conversation. Jimmy G is scowling at the table, arms folded, but nodding. Vicario is thoughtful.
“And so I'll ask again,” I say, pressing my advantage. “Will you give me permission and the help I need to remove Maggie Donovan?”
“What happened between you and Fuscone doesn't concern me,” Rossi says, sounding bored, although his eyes are shrewd. “And the Donovans have never bothered me, either. I’m not interested in making enemies.”
“Your quarrel with the Donovans has nothing to do with us. And we have no reason to trust you,” Alessi says, looking at me with suspicion.
“You have no reason not to,” I reply. “I came to ask permission, didn’t I? Now you all know what I have planned. So you can help me, or you can hinder me.”
“Let him have a handful of our guys,” Sonny Vegas urges. “If we give Morelli a way in, it benefits all of us.”
“Do all of the West Coast representatives feel the same?” Vicario asks, his voice rumbling through the room.
Sonny looks around to his side of the room, with a raised eyebrow. “I can't speak for all of them,” he says. “But if you give us a moment to discuss, I’ll take the temperature, eh? I'm sure everyone could do with a break, anyway.”
“Sure, sure. Why don't you young guys take a walk around the block,” Lombardo says, “and I'll have some refreshments sent up for the older gents.”
