I owed Don Castellani for his protection from Sonny Vegas, and I owed him again for my fuck-up with Sandro.
He put an arm around my shoulders as he walked me toward the door. “You’re not living up to that potential, Jacopo. This Familyneedsskills like yours. And I know things are difficult between Alessandro and you, but they may not always be, you understand?”
The only thing I understood so far as Sandro Castellani went was that when his father kicked it, so would I. I was alive only because Ciro Castellani wanted me alive. Sandro did not share his father’s sentiments.
“I want to push you out of your comfort zone,” the Boss told me. “Your time with Legs has taught you to follow orders. But now I want to see what else you can bring to the table. Alessandro needs good men around him. Better than he has now.”
Something clicked into place for me. “Men like Dizzy, you mean?”
The Boss sucked his cheeks in, but didn’t confirm. Still, I was certain of it: Dizzy DiNunzio was one of Sandro’s new bodyguards. No wonder he’d been pleased with himself out there. It was a step up that could lead to greater things.
“Apart from Alessandro, I think you owemeat least to try. Understand?”
I did understand. I owed the Boss my life, and that meant he got to control it. He could pretty it up, try to make out like this was a career move for me, but we both knew the truth. He wanted to get his money’s worth out of me.
“Sure, Boss. Thanks. I appreciate the opportunity.”
“I want a result by Thursday,” he added as he walked me to the door. “But I must insist you keep up with your other duties, too. Legs has a lot of business to take care of for me.”
Today was Saturday, and mostly gone. Four days to find a runaway starletandkeep up with Legs’ schedule? It would be tight. But I could hardly bargain for more time, and I was lucky it wasn’t less.
When I got back outside to the driveway, there was a gardener with a canister of weed killer strapped to his back, spraying the hell out of the gravel, including that poor little green tuft I’d covered up next to the car.
The gardener nodded at me on his way past, and after a second I nodded my acknowledgment back.
We were both killers, after all.
* * *
I dropped by the crew’s usual sandwich joint after leaving Redwood Manor, meaning to check in, but all I got for my trouble was a sneering from Legs Liggari.
“The fuck you doin’ here?” he demanded. “Aren’t you supposed to be onspecial assignmentfrom the Boss?”
Most of the crew were there, playing poker in the back room, and they all let out mockingOohsat Legs’ words.
“Just checking in,” I said.
One of the things that pissed Legs off most about me was the fact that I never let him get to me. It was easy enough; every time I saw him I was too busy picturing how I’d kill him to pay any attention to his bullshit.
“Boss said to keep up on anything you needed,” I went on, while Legs ostentatiously ignored me. “But I’ll head out if you’ve got nothing for me.”
I got a cranky wave. I was interrupting a tricky round of cards by the looks of it, but if I knew Legs, he’d overplay his hand. He always did.
As I was leaving the front shop, Freddy Lazzaro, the only man in Legs’ entire crew who was worth a damn, came in the door looking a little worse for wear. We exchanged a nod. “Quite a shiner,” I observed. “Someone sneak up on you?”
He gave a rueful chuckle. “Biker bar last night,” he sighed. “You ever want to swap out, I can collect WeHo for you in a snap. East LA’s getting rowdy.”
“I’ll stick to my usual haunts. What else is happening around town?”
Freddy was one of the best intel-gatherers I knew in the whole Castellani Family, and he was wasted working in Legs’ crew. I’d told him that more than once—toldLegsmore than once, too, but that guy was too stupid to see what a gem he had in Freddy. If there was one thing I’d gained from working in Legs’ crew, it was meeting this guy.
Freddy scrunched up his mouth, considering. “The Bernardis are having some trouble around the ports with the Triads. There’s a pro burglary ring working the Hills. And have you heard about all those freight train robberies? Talk about the Wild West. Whatisthis world coming to?”
“Never quiet in LA.”
“You said it.”
“Listen.” I dropped my voice. “The Boss has me on a side gig, and I need to pull something out fast. I could use someone with an ear to the ground.”
