“Mario, how’s the honeymoon?”
“Too short.I’m in Milan.”
He sounded stressed.“The penthouse?”His father’s place was conveniently situated near all the movers and shakers of the region, which suited his role as Italy’s trade minister just fine.But it held bad memories for both Allie and Mario.
“Much to my bride’s dismay.”
He almost died there the last time they visited.“Is Loppa with you?”
“Firenze.No one is trying to kill me today.You’re in Chicago.”
Ha ha.He was never going to let me live that down.“I’m at CCI.”
“I know.”
Wait, I hadn’t given him any information about my plans.Don Manca trusted me to work it on my time table, and Ellie was at the bar.Unless she talked to her sister, no one knew.“Did Ellie call her sister?”
“No, a gentleman named Alfonzo Messina-Conti reached out to my father when you checked in.”
“Theydoknow I’m here.”Fuckers.I’d been led around by a junior VP, from marketing no less, just to add insult to the diversion.
“Are you endearing yourself to the natives?”
That was one way to put it.“I haven’t killed anyone yet, if that’s what you’re asking.I just might, though.These dilettantes wouldn’t understand a threat if I gift-wrapped it.Adelmo’s operation is a front for laundering.It’s only saving grace is that it’s got a nice view of the river.”No wonder he was losing money.
“What about the shipyards?”
“Rail yards.Most of the product comes through by train or trucks, not boats.The Great Lakes cargo ships are only ten percent of the business.”
“Any routes that reach international ports?”
“Plenty.There are locks and canals that offer a water route to the Gulf via the Mississippi River.Land routes to Canada or Mexico, the trains, and air freight.”
And that gave Mario all the information he needed to pressure the players who controlled points north, south, east, and west.Plus, line up a real meeting for me.It took him an hour.
It was held at an empty restaurant just west of Halsted.
Four members of the Conti organization’s faction met me there.None of them were closer than fourth, maybe fifth cousin to me.The question was, had they gotten the memo about their newest family member?
“Mr.Devlin.It isn’t often we have a member of the Left Hand in Chicago, yet this is now two months in a row.Is there a problem?”Their leader’s tone insinuated the problem was solelyours, not his.
I’d done my homework.Every man present hid behind legitimate businesses.Two of the men were so clean, I doubted they even knew what their leader meant about the Left Hand.It was a polite term for assassins.Don Manca’s specialty even though the family controlled almost all of Sardinia’s smuggling, kidnapping, finance, and extortion interests.The real claim to fame for the family was its ability to send a person anywhere in the world to eliminate problems.
These boys would be shaking in their boots if they weren’t so clueless.
“You should have received word that Don Conti passed, but if you haven’t, I can offer you my condolences in person.Had any of you met him?”I tossed the question out casually, as if seeking commiseration.
Only their leader nodded.
“But you all knew his late son, Adelmo.”They had to.He would have needed each of them to coordinate the consortium in order to send their tributes back to Don Conti.
Nods passed through like a ripple.
Their mouthpiece, Alfonzo—the Conti-Messina man, spoke.“Did you know Adelmo, perhaps…meethim before he died?”
That was a loaded question.One I respected their mouthpiece for asking.“My brother did.”
A man in the back cleared his throat.“Excuse me, when you say, brother—” He was probably wondering if there was yet another heir in line for the minor fortune in the trust.
