Nodding, Luca lapsed back into thought. He was young and clever, growing rapidly into his role. My estimation of him grew daily, along with my respect for Tino’s choice to dub him as successor.
Luca was silent for a long time, but when he spoke, our minds had continued along a similar path. “What’s your opinion of these Central Park hits?” he asked. “We’ve had no casualties. Are our men being as cautious as we advised them to be, or are they just lucky?”
As far as I was aware, the recent slayings had been confined to the other Families: two from the Rossis, three Alessis, an associate of the Giuliano Families, and one Clemenza. “I don’t think most of our men are even nearly that careful,” I admitted. “They’ve improved, but our recruitment drive is still winnowing the grain from the chaff. And I’m no believer in luck.”
“It doesseemlike a very pointed setup.” Luca gave a shrug and looked out the window, to the treetops and gray sky over Central Park. “Very obvious. But I suppose these so-called enforcers of the law need to be led by the nose sometimes.”
“They certainly seem to think it’s us,” I said. “I’ve had a daily shadow since Hanson’s death.” It was just another part of the job, being followed and watched, although the surveillance had stepped up recently. It was still easy enough to shake a tail when necessary. And a few nights, when Hanson’s baby-faced partner had been one of my shadows, I’d decided to give the kid a break. If I’d had no business to attend to, I’d let him keep sight of me for an hour or so, let him follow me to restaurants or dry cleaners or the theater. I liked to think it would have amused Hanson.
It amusedme. One of my favorite moves was to turn suddenly and backtrack, just to watch him flail and turn around as well. Then I had the pleasure of watching my watcher, watching the way his body moved in civilian clothes as he hurried away.
Luca’s voice broke into my thoughts, and I pulled them away from Babyface. “And it’s definitely not one of ours striking out on a well-intentioned but foolish personal vendetta?”
“No one would dare act in that manner without your permission, Don Morelli.” Whatever else our Family was, whatever we’d been reduced to during the recent troubles, those who were left were unquestionably loyal, and that included the new members. Luca D’Amato was both feared and loved within the Family. Myths had already started to spring up about his abilities.
“Maybe,” he said, a slight crack in his self-confidence letting the word slip out. It had not beenverylong ago that he was only a soldier in the Morelli ranks. “So, Angelo. If not us, then who?”
I hesitated. It had been playing on my mind for some time. “None of the hits have been particularly consequential,” I pointed out. “The Alessis have taken more casualties than the rest of us, but they’re also the largest Family these days. And after all, their men do like to make sure the whole world knows their whereabouts by posting on social media.”
Luca gave a hard smile. “I talked to Joe about that at the last meeting of the Commission. Told him it made us all look like fools. He didn’t much like hearing it.”
I couldn’t help grinning at the picture of Don Joseph Alessi, seventy if he was a day and with a long history of blood behind him, being dressed down by Luca D’Amato: young, unapologetically gay, and with limited respect for authority without intelligence.
“The Clemenzas have been at pains to behave themselves recently,” Luca said, coming back to the topic at hand. “Otherwise they’d be the obvious choice.”
“The hit on themwasthe least damaging. Some lowlife associate they haven’t done business with for a long time.”
Luca frowned. “I wouldn’t like to think Louis Clemenza is up to his old tricks. Not after Chicago.” He raised his eyes to mine. “He owes me.” After a pause, he said, “Finch thinks it might be some disaffected Irishman.”
“His sister having troubles in Boston?” I asked. It was a courtesy question. I knew there was still unrest among the Irish, while we Italians seemed to be on an even keel for once. It would be a shame if the Central Park killings began to rock the boat.
“That particular relationship is not without its sensitivities,” Luca said carefully. “But from what we’ve heard, the Irish back in the motherland aren’t happy with us. Not after we cut them off from the Donovan cash cow.”
“They’d be killing Donovans or Morellis in that case, surely?”
“You’d think so,” Luca agreed, “but nevertheless, I’d like you to look into it. This is the name we were given.” He leaned forward to hand me a slip of paper. “Speculation aside, Angelo, what does your instinct tell you?”
“There’s something else going on,” I said at once. “Some pattern I can’t see yet.”
“I agree. And if nothing else, I don’t like the pressure this task force attention is putting on our business. So, with that in mind, I’d like you to look into it. I know Finch would feel better if we could be certain. He worries about his sister, you see. He loves her very much—and of course, the Donovans are a useful ally. Or if this is a strike from one of the other Families here in New York, well, I’d like to know that, too.”
I sat back in the chair, pleased. It had been exactly what I wanted to request from him, without wanting to overstep. “Of course, Don Morelli,” I said.
“Use whatever resources you need. But try to keep it quiet if you can. And Angelo—if it comes to light that itisone of our own stepping out of line, I’d like to deal with them personally.”
Luca was our leader, but he was still hands-on when he deemed it necessary. At other times I might have suggested he let someone else take care of the wet work, not to even dignify such a betrayal with his own attention.
But in this matter, I could see he was right. It would be a sign that only complete adherence to the Morelli Family values would be tolerated. Indiscriminate and non-sanctioned hits did not fit into those values. Besides all that, Luca had been trying to move the Family into more legitimate streams of business recently as a form of protection against the Feds, and against task forces like the very one of which Hanson had been part. These killings could undermine that work.
“Understood, Boss,” I said. The conversation drifted to other topics, including Finch D’Amato’s nightclub, and news from the old country.
“Frank and Celia are settling in well,” Luca told me. “Their relationship is blossoming, or so Frank tells me. Parenthood has given them a new appreciation for each other.” I didn’t know exactly where in Italy Luca’s brother and sister-in-law were, and I didn’t want to. Knowledge could be dangerous. I was brooding on what kind of knowledge I might turn up in my investigation when Luca asked, “And you, Angelo? Are you seeing anyone?”
It surprised me so that I had to be careful about swallowing my biscotti mouthful. Luca had hinted once or twice that he had some interest in my love life, but rarely straight-out asked.
“I’m devoted to my career,” I said truthfully. “To the Family.” But for some reason, the baby-faced Fed had come to mind. I supposed I was “seeing” him in one sense, though not the way Luca meant. Babyface had been turning up most nights to follow my breadcrumbs.
Luca leaned back in his chair, his eyes half-closed, and smiled the smile he got when he thought about Finch. I’d told him more than once to watch that expression around anyone outside the Family. It would only give people nefarious ideas. “It’s nice being married,” he said. “You should try it.”
