"I…advisedyou," I amend, "as head of security, that you should lift the lockdown. You didn't. And now another man is dead."
He sits back in his chair, a slight smirk pulling at his scarred face. "Well, well. The pup has teeth. Yes, you advised me to lift the lockdown. And perhaps if I had listened, things would have turned out differently. But perhaps not. Perhaps many moremen would be dead, littering the streets in the fallout of a failed parley and a war between two factions."
"Perhaps," I concede. "But all due respect, Boss, my job is to think about Redwood Manor."
Sandro's expression softens. Just a touch. "Your dedication is commendable, DeLuca. But we cannot afford any more mistakes."
"Understood. And I'll continue to do everything in my power to ensure the safety of Redwood Manor and everyone under its roof."
"See that you do. Now—tell me everything." He waves his hand, and at last I take a seat in front of him.
I'm glad I can, because my knees weren't going to hold out much longer. This is what I wanted—I wanted to be in the room with powerful people who can make powerful decisions; I wanted to learn how they think and what they need. But like Sandro himself just said, sometimes I still feel like a puppy around a pack of wolves.
And I'm exhausted. Barely any sleep, no end in sight to this parley, and the bodies are starting to stack up. I shake my head, try to clear it, and give my report, from the time I knew Chops was missing to the time Julian showed us the passageway.
"The passage from the room where we were holding Russo gives access to the rooms where Chops Lollo was staying," I finish up. "But it's blocked off."
"And so Russo, after his altercation with Chops Lollo the day previously, took it upon himself to use the passage, kill the bodyguard in retaliation. Yes. It fits."
"No, it doesn't."
"No?"
Sandro seems at least a little interested in what I have to say, so I voice my doubts. "First off, unless he knew exactlyhowto open that mirror, I can't see Russo just stumbling across it. And howwouldhe know? Julian had to show Darian and me how to open it."
Sandro lets out a long sigh. "DeLuca, please don't suggest I accuse my brother of murder yetagain." I'm a little taken aback by the dark humor in his tone, but I give a small smile.
"Nah. I don't see any advantages for Julian in Lollo's death—or Clemenza's, for that matter. As far as I understand it, the parley proceedings didn't, uh, favor one faction over the other." I try to put it delicately, but Sandro must know there's been gossip about it.
He scoffs. "The talks favored no one but Tony Clemenza and his old Family. But I must admit a certain admiration for such loyalty, even after their fate at the hands of the Morellis. Anyway. If Russo couldn't open the mirror, perhaps Chops did, from his side?"
"The thing is, Boss, Chopscouldn'thave gotten into that passage from his side—that wardrobe you put in front of the door, it's a fuckin' beast—and my guys didn't see Chops go into Russo's room. Hell, they wouldn't havelethim in. Far as we know, no one went into Russo's room except Russo. So I have no idea how the hell Chops got into the passage."
Sandro seems lost in thought for a moment, then gives a shrug. "Your men must have been absent for a few moments, duringwhich time Chops may have gone into Russo's room. The key was in the door, yes?"
"I mean, yeah, but my guys were on Russo 24/7."
"But there is no other possibility, DeLuca. If Chops could not get through the passageway, he must have entered by the door—because he was certainly found dead in that corridor, and the only unbarred way in was through the mirror in Russo's room."
It makes logical sense when he puts it like that, but it still doesn't sit right with me. "Whose idea was it to store Russo in the room with the passage in the first place?" I ask, my mind going around to Julian again.
"Mine," Sandro says coolly, and goes on before I can get my exhausted brain to think through any other possibilities. "I know it is strange," he says. "But I'm not concerned with thehow, only thewho. If Russo killed both Clemenza and Lollo, this is not a Castellani matter, and we have that for which to be thankful."
"Hang on," I say doubtfully. "Maybe he had beef with Chops, but I don't see what reason Russo would've had to whack Clemenza."
"Who knows what evil and foolish thoughts roll around in that empty space he calls his head. After all, we know Russo was in the kitchen—when he was assaulting Darian."
The memory still makes me see red. And thatdoesmake sense. "He must've grabbed the knife then."
Sandro nods. "Call both factions into the grand salon, and have Russo brought down as well. I will tell them the evidence and let them draw their own conclusions—and carry out their own justice."
"Boss," I say slowly, "those Bernardi bastards are still a box full of gunpowder."
"Yes," he says evenly. "I understand, DeLuca. Bring them down. That is my order."
My jaw tightens, but I nod in silent compliance. I leave the study and go tell the guards to gather the Bernardis and assemble them in the salon.
I'll get Russo myself.
