* * *
Once we makeour request to access the safe deposit box, there’s a flurry of activity in the bank, and we’re taken to see the manager in his big swanky office. Marble urns flank his desk, almost funereal, and there’s a large oil painting behind him in the style of Vermeer.
It might actuallybea Vermeer. It’s that kind of bank.
I’m prepared to start arguing with the bank manager about my right to access the box, but he just checks my passport—my real one, this time—and smiles in the same smarmy way I’ve come to expect from people who suddenly discover I’m a super-rich motherfucker.
“Sopleased to be able to accommodate you, sir,” he says. I bet I’m the first person with pink hair that he’s ever calledsir. “I’ll take you down myself.”
Luca rises from the chair to follow me, but the suit frowns. “I’msosorry, sir,” he says to Luca, “but only named people may enter and view the contents of the safety deposit box. Mr. Donovan’s mother’s instructions werequiteclear.”
“No,” Luca says calmly. “I will accompany my husband. And his name is Mr. D’Amato.”
The bank guy frowns deeper and opens his mouth, and I can tell he doesn’t understand how much danger he’s in right now.
“If you could give us a moment alone,” I say over the top of whatever unwise statement he was about to make.
He’s all smiles again in an instant. “Ofcourse. Please take as much time as you need to discuss.” With that, he leaves us alone with the maybe-Vermeer.
“I’m coming with you,” Luca says simply.
“Listen to me.” I take both his hands in mine.
“I’ll stand to the side if you want. I won’t look into the box—”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“No, yoursafetyis what it’s about. Your mother had so many secrets, baby bird. She was mixed up in terrorist activities, for Christ’s sake. Who’s to say that safe deposit box isn’t fixed with an explosive? What if she assumed your father or someone else would find it, and—”
“No, babe,” I say. “She wouldn’t rig something up if there was any chance it’d hurt me, or any of her kids. She just…wouldn’t do that. Shemeantfor me or Tara or Róisín to open that box.”
“Or Maggie,” he says darkly. “She must have known there was a possibility Maggie would find it, too.”
He makes a good point, but I still don’t believe—even after all the revelations of my mother’s past have come out—that she would ever hurt me, or Tara, or Róisín.
Or even Maggie.
All of the memories I have of my mother are tinged with the sense of her love for all her children. “Even with the possibility of Maggie finding it,” I say, squeezing his hands, “I just don’t believe my mother would ever set a trap that might hurt us. Besides, this asshole isnotgoing to make it easy for you in there with me, Luca. He’s going to keep you out.”
“He can try,” Luca says, with an arrogant lift of his head. I only love him more for it.
“Apart from all that,” I go on, “you’re supposed to betrustingme now. You can’t tell me you’re willing to dangle me as bait in front of the IFF butnotlet me go alone into a secure room in a bank.”
That, finally, seems to reach him. After a moment, he gives a sigh and a nod. “Alright.”
“Thank you.” I lean in, standing on my toes to kiss his cheek. “Love you.”
“I love you, too. And I want you to be damned careful opening that box, even if you think it’s fine. Please. Open it facing away from you, at the very least.”
* * *
I thinkabout Luca’s advice when I’m there in the silent room, the walls gleaming with row on row of bronze-gold plates on the front of each deposit box, all of them hiding wealth and secrets. My mother’s safe deposit box is in front of me on a plain table. There are chairs, but I’m standing up, ready to bolt if I need to.
The box is small. I know good things come in small packages—like me—but I can’t help thinking about the chocolate box bombs that took off Frank’s hand, killed my bodyguard, Marco, and took out several members of the old Commission. They were smaller than this.
I swivel the small, flat, metal box so the flap will open facing away from me. I put the key in the lock carefully and deliberately, and turn it. The box unlocks.
Nothing blows up.
