“Your brother, you mean,” Stone said.
“Yes. I-I-I wanted him to suffer.”
“Mission accomplished, I’d say.”
“Very much so,” Fratelli said.
Her brow wrinkled. “What do you mean?”
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your brother is dead.”
She stared at him. “What?”
“We’re sorry for your loss,” Stone said.
“Youkilledhim?”
“Oh, no,” Jack said. “Not us.”
“Truthfully, we’re not sure exactly who did,” Stone said. “But it was either Pinkie Ramirez or one of his men.”
She slapped a hand over her mouth as a laugh escaped her lips.
“That’s funny?” Fratelli asked.
“I-I didn’t expect Ramirez would have him killed.”
“You don’t seem surprised that he was there.”
“I, um, I kind of tipped him off that Ricky was up to something he should know about.”
“That actually clears up a lot of questions,” Stone said.
“Questions?”
“It’s hard to know what happened when everyone involved is dead.”
“What?”
“Ramirez, his buddy, Miguel, and a couple of his men,” Stone said. “Your brother did quite a bit of damage before he gave up the ghost.”
“Here’s the thing, Miss Gennaro,” Fratelli said. “The mess at your brother’s house has left me unsatisfied. There were a few things I needed him to tell me, but the ability to dothat has been taken from me. My only hope now lies entirely with you.”
“Me?”
“If you can tell me what I want to know and can satisfy me with the knowledge that you had nothing to do with harming my family and friends, I’m prepared to let you fly to Mexico on this very plane tonight. I will even let you keep two hundred and fifty thousand dollars of my money.”
“If you can’t do either of those things,” Stone said, “I have the New York City commissioner of police on speed dial, and I’m sure he’d love to talk with you.”
She looked between the two men, licked her lips, then said, “What do you need to know?”
Saturday morning, Brady Carter groanedas he regained consciousness.
The last thing he remembered was walking home from the bar around the corner from his apartment building. Had he passed out on his way home?
He’d had more than a few drinks, so it wouldn’t be completely surprising. He’d found out that Ricky Gennaro had been killed, dashing Carter’s dreams of the reward he’d been assuming he’d get.
He pried his eyes open only to find that his vision was hampered by a piece of cloth lying across his face.
