“Ugh.”
Kat’s single-syllable benign envy echoed mine.The silence weighed on the tattered threads of my heart.
“I met someone.”
Her head tilted at my one-eighty.“And?”
I shrugged.“It was a rebound thing, you know?But at least he can grow a beard if he wanted.”
“Any photos?”
None I wanted to look at.Ever.I shook my head.
Never leave incriminating evidence behind.
2
Ringo
In my career, I’ve met hundreds of unlucky guys.But none quite as fucked as Signore Gesualdo Conti.“Don” Conti if you gave two fucks about hierarchy.
His office looked a hell of a lot different than the last time I was here.A freshly gouged chunk of wood was torn out of the heavy door.The hospital bed was new, too.
The carpet was gone, exposing wooden planks that were definitely not new.At least the blood stains were scrubbed away.
A heart monitor, oxygen monitor, and a bazillion other devices kept him alive.I almost felt sorry for the guy.Paralyzed from the shoulders down, he probably thought this was Hell.My only consolation was that he’d see the real place soon enough.
Underneath the changes was an ever-present taint of excrement.Weirder?Sulfur.
Like someone had lit a fresh match.But that wouldn’t happen.The big warning label on the oxygen tank made even me think twice about that foolishness.
I sat where directed by the secretary and stared at the man propped up in his death bed.His nurse was a suited, looming, meathead with hands like hams.I doubted his role entailed bedpans.
“They took all my weapons at the gate,” I complained.
Don Conti wheezed a laugh.“Next time you visit, don’t walk in the front door.”
“Will there be a next time?”I asked.It was on everyone’s mind.From the Italian officials who’d locked up his daughter on attempted murder, to my adopted family, the Mancas…or as they liked to call themselves, “The Left Hand.”And no, that wasn’t a play on words.They took that shit seriously.Apparently, it was a thing that went back at least eight thousand years.From cradle to early grave, they mastered the art of death, and sundry other more lucrative professions from kidnapping to piracy, but their main calling was assassination.As one of theirs, and the Devil’s own, I was the rare outsider who’d taken up the blade.
Don Conti pondered my question.“I think my solicitor will kill me first.”
I glanced at the lawyer in the corner.The stacks of paperwork in his purview were on the verge of toppling over.The Conti family was in arrears due to bank fines.Their assets were being liquidated, and only the American holdings were left out of the vulture pit because they’d been signed over to Adelmo Conti’s trust as son and heir to the Conti name.Unluckily, he’d died just a short time ago, without a will.Therefore, the entire block of assets were in limbo as they reverted to Don Conti.
And once he died, the next closest heir was in jail, waiting for her attempted murder charges to be upgraded to murder.Because she fired the magical bullet that lodged in her father’s spine which was slowly killing him.
Having a lawyer present was highly unusual.This reeked of a setup.I faked a relaxed air.“Why did you need me then?”Dianora would suffer more alive.But if Don Conti was exacting revenge for a certain duplicity I’d committed, then a lawyer would be the perfect assassin for the assassin.
Don Conti nodded toward the solicitor.That triggered a rush to uncover a binder, and an even more concerning rush toward me.
If I had a dagger, he’d be dead.
Instead, I took the hefty package he offered.I flipped it open, knowing no one was going to voice a hit contract out loud in front of witnesses, but having it documented was a step outside my comfort zone.
The first page didn’t look like any workup I’d ever seen.The second didn’t either.I flipped through the detailed summary of assets, double-checked addresses mentioned, and got highly confused.
To be thorough, I fanned through the stack to the final pages.Just spreadsheets and ledgers, no details about a mark, no special requests to bring back proof.It was as if I stepped through the twilight zone door into a world run by…businessmen.
I set the binder down.“Mario or his father would be better suited for this.”As I prepared to stand, Don Conti grew agitated.He flapped his shoulder to attract the lawyer’s attention.Once he had it, he ordered, “Leave us for a moment all of you.”
