I have wanted him dead for a long time. But the time has never been right.
“Imagine for a moment that you’re the Boss of a Mob Family,” I say to Nick. “Might not be such a stretch for you to imagine now, eh? You hold some power, thanks to money and influence, but your greatest enemy has you on sheer numbers. Would it be clever to provoke them, knowing that a head-on attack from them would destroy your own forces—andknowing how many innocents would die in the crossfire? Or would it be wiser to build up your friends and your allies until the numbers are more equal, and then find a way to dismantle the enemy from the inside?”
Nick takes it in and thinks about it. “But wehavefriends,” he says. “We have allies. And if you took out Lou Clemenza, no one would blame you. The New York Commission would give you a free pass, even Big Gee from the Giulianos knows the score. And there are plenty in the Clemenza Family waiting in the wings to take Lou’s place; they’d thank you for it.”
“That’s exactly the problem. Cutting off one head of the hydra won’t rid us of them. When I defeat them, I want to make sure the whole top layer is wiped out—and their resources, too. Which is why getting stock in that company is so important. It’s the bedrock of Clemenza wealth. They’ve been stupid enough to put all their eggs in one basket.”
“And now you’re trying to make an omelet with them?” Nick suggests with a grin.
“Something like that.” The Italian stakeholder is still holding out, and I haven’t been able to move forward with my plans there. The meeting I missed a few months ago could have been a turning point. It wasn’t.
Nick rubs his nose, thinking. “So you’ve been giving Clemenza all the rope he wants—”
“Until I kick the chair out from under him. Iwilldestroy the Clemenzas completely,” I assure him, “when the time comes. But at the moment, they’re backed too strongly by their ties in Italy. So until I can cut those ties, I want Louis Clemenza left alone. I’d rather havehimin power than a more intelligent man—or one who’s evenmoreprone to violence. Or worse, a power vacuum. But in the meantime, push back where they’re pushing forward. Do as we would normally do. Rossi will help us if you ask him.”
“Understood.”
We move on to other topics. To the quick and subtle clearing of our fallen soldiers at the hospital before the cops got to them; to Angelo’s reappearance; to Detective Garcia; to the senior members of our own Family.
“They’re all downstairs, by the way,” Nick tells me. “Looking forward to a reunion.”
“So am I.” For the first time in a long time, I really am looking forward to seeing them. “The two of us, Nick—we’re okay?” I hold out my hand.
He clasps it and squeezes. “We’re okay.”
“And you and Carlo—how’s that going?”
The smile he gives then reminds me of my own when I think about Finch. “Great. Carlo…he’s just amazing.”
“I’ve been appreciating his greater involvement in our business,” I say. I cast about for a way to ask what I really want to know. “Do you…find it affecting your home life?”
“Not at all. If anything, it’s a relief to be able to talk about that shit, you know? I don’t have to watch my words quite so much.”
“I see. Well…I’m glad to hear that.” My words sound hollow to my own ears. But it’s not Carlo and Nick I’m thinking about. I shake the mood off. “Let’s get this done; bring up the others.”
After they’ve all trooped by the bed, kissed my ring, muttered prayers for my long life and given blessings, the master bedroom begins to feel a little cramped. Fontana, Carlucci, Vitali on one side on my bed. Al Vollero, glaring at Nick as usual, and Snapper Marino are on the other side, with Frank taking up more of the room than the others seem to, even standing on his own at the foot of the bed.
“Thank you all for coming here,” I begin. “I’m aware of the tempting target we make, all of us here together, so I’ll be brief. First of all, I wanted to say thank you to my brother, Frank, for coming back to me in my time of need.”
There’s a murmur of agreement, and Frank grins proudly.
“But Frankie will be leaving us again,” I say, holding Frank’s one good eye. “He has a wife and a child who depend on him. He needs to get back to them. It’s asking far too much to keep him here, and he’s not one of us anymore. He’s his own man.”
No one looks at Frank, and it’s so quiet that I can hear the clock in the hallway outside, ticking and ticking, and the soft creak of the landing floorboards.
At long last, Frank clears his throat. “Yeah,” he says. “That’s right. I gotta get back to Cee and Marcy.”
I reach out my hand and he comes to me, clasps it in both of his, and leans in to kiss me, three times. “You sure, Georgie?” he murmurs roughly in my ear.
“I’m sure.”
If he wants to talk it through later, we will. But for now I’m just relieved he realized the role he had to play in my theater tonight. He straightens, salutes the room with his prosthetic hand, and gives a grin that’s only a little regretful. “And I’ll say g’night now to all you fuckers. Keep your shit together, eh? And keep my brother alive, or I’ll come back and kick your asses.”
I give them time to bid Frank farewell, and Vollero, in particular, takes a long time hugging him goodbye. He must sense what’s coming once my brother is gone.
When the door shuts behind Frank, I motion them closer to my bed. They huddle up, a little semi-circle, and I wait another moment just to make them squirm. “The second thing I want to say,” I go on at last, “is that we are at war.”
“We’re gonna get those Irish fuckers,” Vollero promises me. “Make ’em regret ever coming into this city.”
