“Sì.”
“He was arrested with cocaine,” Valerio said. “Was he moving cocaine for Errichiello?”
“Of course not. The little idiot. Those other boys put him up to it.”
“What did Errichiello think of Gaetano? Did they have a good relationship?”
She shrugged. “Luca doesn’t have those instincts. And Gaetano was…disappointing. Always trying to fit in. Always pretending. Always groveling.”
“Was Errichiello disappointed in Gaetano?”
“Yes,” she said.
“How do you know? Did he tell you this?”
“Two weeks ago, Gaetano drove Luca to a dinner. A long drive—to Salerno. Gaetano had to piss. He went into the restaurant to use the toilet. Luca was furious. The Ghost dragged Gaetano out, and hit him—actually hit Luca’s son! He called me. Crying. I told him to find another place to piss. Then Luca stopped letting Gaetano drive him.”
“The Ghost?” Valerio asked.
“That’s what everyone calls him: il Fantasma—the Ghost—because of his white hair. He runs security for Luca.”
“What’s his actual name?” he pressed.
She shrugged.
“How long has he worked for Errichiello?” he asked.
She considered. “He came to Luca three years ago.”
Valerio pictured the ungainly boy tromping into the sophisticated restaurant. He could imagine Luca’s annoyance, and Ivan’s ready violence.
“Who was Errichiello meeting?” he asked.
Another shrug.
“Do you know the name of the restaurant?”
“No.”
“I want names,” Valerio said firmly. “Anyone else who worked directly for Errichiello or Silvestri.”
She rattled off half a dozen names—cooks, managers, housekeepers, and serving staff.
Valerio switched off the voice-recording app on his phone, and started dialing Maurizio.
“I’m bringing you to the station,” he told Ines. “You’re going to tell the police everything about Errichiello’s operations.”
She laughed.
“The police already know,” she wheezed. “Everyone loves Silvestri’s parties. They especially love the girls. The younger the better. That was the point. That was always the point. Don’t you understand? If the police wanted it to stop, it would be over.”
She turned to Ravenna. “Bella, get me a glass of water. I’m parched.”
Ravenna’s face was white, lips pressed together, fists clenched at her sides. She gazed back at Ines, and Valerio saw something he’d never thought could exist in that sweet face: hatred.
“Never,” she said. “Never again.”
Then she turned and strode rapidly to the door. Valerio followed.
