I shrug. “Nothing has been of use. And some of your information was just plain wrong. Our father breaking it off with Lina Lamond, for example. That wasn’t true.”
“It certainly was,” he protests. “I overheard him myself, the day of his murder. He was on the phone to that agent he picked out for her. I couldn’t hear the agent, but Ciro told him to forget about it—that he was tired of Lina anyway, and planned to cut ties.”
“And did you happen to see Lina Lamond sneaking into Redwood Manor, into the study, and killing our father?”
There is a long pause before he says, “No.”
“I need somethinguseful, Julian.”
“Alright.” He considers, pacing back and forth now. “Have you ever asked Jack why he was here that morning? Ciro didn’t call for him. He came on his own volition. I think you’d be interested in his answer to that question.”
I stifle my irritation. “Jacopo arrived in that roomafterthe murder,” I point out.
“Yes,” Julian agrees. “All the same, if I were you, I’d ask him.”
“What else?” I snap. “Are mysterious inferences and allusions all I can expect? I’m starting to think you have nothing at all.”
He laughs. “Take it or leave it, brother dear. But if you really want another tip…” He comes back to the bars, his eyes sparkling now. There’s nothing Julian loves more than manipulation. “I’d de-stuff that little teddy bear you’re cuddling at nights. Take out his insides before he takes out yours.”
I shake my head in resignation and turn away, get a few steps before he calls after me.
“I mean it, Sandro! Do you have any idea who he is?”
I pause, glancing back at him.
“So youdon’tknow.” The soft smile on his lips makes me want to hit him again, to drive his teeth back into his throat and see if he can still smile that infuriating smile while he swallows them.
“I know about the website,” I tell him contemptuously. “If that’s what you mean.”
Julian’s smile only grows. “Oh, dear.”
“If you have something to tell me,tell me. Otherwise, stop wasting my time.”
“Ask him,” he says with a shrug. “I don’t want you to kill the messenger.”
I stare at him, a second too long, because he reads my face. His eyes go wide. “You let himgo,” he says, with a strange, admiring horror. “Oh, Sandro. I never took you for such a fool.”
I leave without another word, telling myself to ignore the rising alarm.
* * *
But the sense of unease doesn’t leave me, even after I’ve changed my clothes to rid myself of the mostly-imagined clinging stink of the cells. For my own peace of mind—and I hate myself for giving in to the paranoia IknowJulian wanted to provoke—I decide to order another background check into Teddy. But this time, I’ll get Jacopo to do it.
One of the first things Lombardo told me on that first day after my father’s death was how much our intelligence has deteriorated in the last year. Jacopo has his own contacts who might prove more useful. And I don’t want to tip off any interested eyes inside the Family, either.
Jacopo arrives in response to my summons with a grim face and a set to his jaw. “What is it now?” I sigh, as soon as he’s shown into the study by Wilson.
“I have a bone to pick with you, Castellani. I don’t want your boyfriend pokingmyboyfriend to see what falls out. Leave Miller out of all this shit.”
I take all that in, the faint sense of alarm growing decidedly stronger. But I don’t want Jacopo to know how unsettled I am. Not yet. “Sit down.”
“I don’t want to fucking sit down.”
“Sit down and tell me exactly what you think I’ve done. Or I’ll help youfindyour seat.”
Jacopo glares at me a few more seconds, then pulls his hat off, puts it on the desk over the stain, and takes an exaggerated seat. “Happy?”
“Never, where you’re concerned. What’s this bullshit you’re spouting? My boyfriend? Your boyfriend?”
