Fitzpatrick murmured, “Interesting.”
Bianchi’s eyes darted around the room, as if he was looking for a way out. After a moment, Fitzpatrick prompted him by saying, “I suggest you answer the question. You know how much my employer, Mr. Ashcroft, values cooperation.”
Salvatore’s uncle started to fidget. Maybe to buy himself some time, he asked, “Who told you that, Sal?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Bianchi’s voice rose. “Whoever told you is a liar! Why would I do such a thing?”
Salvatore’s voice turned into a low growl. “To isolate me and get me to come work for you. I was fifteen years old when my parents died, Flavio.Fifteen, and you used me. You exploited my abilities in order to fill your pockets.”
“I made you rich, too! I didn’t keep all the profits for myself, and I never forced you to do anything! You helped me willingly.”
“What choice did I have? I thought I needed you. I barely knew my relatives in the US, or in Sicily. You told me I couldn’t count on them, because they were untrustworthy. You took me out of Rome, away from everything I knew. You put me in a position where I had to depend on you for food, and clothing, and a roof over my head. You manipulated me and made me feel like I owed you!”
His uncle snapped, “I didn’t hear you complaining when the money started rolling in. You certainly enjoyed buying yourself designer clothes, and expensive trinkets, and dining at the finest restaurants.”
“I never cared about the money, not like you did, and I never would have helped you if I’d known you killed my parents! They were good people. They were kind to you! How could you do something like that?”
“I didn’t kill them! I swear it on my life, Sal. But I’m not sorry they’re dead. We both know they would have held you back if they’d lived. You’d be nothing now, a penniless bum like your father.”
Salvatore yelled something in Italian, leapt up, and threw the tablet across the room. He was shaking with rage as he turned away from us and pushed back his hair with both hands.
I stood up slowly and looked at Fitzpatrick. I expected him to be angry, but his response was simply, “Oh, dear.”
Salvatore took a few deep breaths, and after a moment, he muttered, “Sorry about the tablet.”
Fitzpatrick shrugged. “No bother, it’s easily replaceable. Would you like my men to continue questioning your uncle, or are you satisfied with his reply?”
Salvatore was quiet for a few moments before saying, “I don’t think he killed my parents. He’s a lot of things, but I don’t really believe he’s a murderer.”
Fitzpatrick crossed the room and retrieved the cracked tablet as he said, “Even so, you’re clearly owed some payback after everything Bianchi did to you. Shall I instruct my men to rough him up a bit before cutting him loose?”
Salvatore shook his head.
“In that case, I’ll bid you good night, gentlemen.” Fitzpatrick gave us a little bow before leaving the room.
Salvatore’s back was still to me. His hands were shaking, so he balled them into fists. I started to reach out to try to comfort him, but he headed for the door and said, “I’m going back to work. The sooner I finish, the sooner we can get out of here. Now that I know Ashcroft let my uncle live, there’s every reason to believe he’ll let us go once the job is done.”
After he left the room, I sat back down, pushed my plate away, and exhaled slowly.
I understood Salvatore so much better now. It was easy to see how he’d gotten involved in something illegal. But I didn’t understand why he’d felt the need to hide all of this from me. If he’d explained it, I wouldn’t have held it against him.
Not that I would have expected him to lead off with it. This wasn’t the kind of thing you told someone you just met. But he’d chosen to keep me in the dark for days, and weeks, and months, even though we kept growing closer. That was the truly upsetting part. I’d thought we were building something special, but he wasn’t being honest with me.
And yes, I fully understood that we’d agreed to lie to each other about our past, but we’d had very different motives for that. I didn’t want to talk about all the ways I felt like a failure, because it was embarrassing. But in his case, he’d chosen not to tell me about a huge part of his life, and about something that could—and had—very literally put me in danger.
I wouldn’t have done anything differently if I’d known. I still would have wanted to be with him. But he hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me the truth.
14
Armando
Time passed slowly at the mansion. I tried to create structure for myself by setting a schedule, anchored around the three gourmet meals a day that showed up like clockwork in the dining room.
After breakfast each day, I went for a long walk. Since I couldn’t actually go anywhere, I did laps around the outside of the house. The groundskeepers eyed me warily at first, but after a few days of this, they ignored me.
I’d only packed a few clothes for what was supposed to be an overnight trip to San Francisco. One of the shirts I’d brought was the one Vee had given me, with the happy cartoon condom and the slogan, “Don’t be silly, wrap your willy.” I’d brought it to wear to bed as a joke, but I wore it on my walks with pride. Why not? I had zero fucks to give about what any of these people thought of me.
