free and just got on with her life. That had been twenty years ago, but on the day he’d been released, unlike his brothers, he hadn’t gone looking for his favourite meals of passatelli and pussy, he’d gone looking for her. For his mother. And, like Johnny Milano, he had made her pay.
It’d only taken a few hours to find her, grilling peppered swordfish on a barbecue for his cousin’s engagement party, and right there and then he’d held down both of her hands on the grill bars, and when he’d got bored of listening to her screams? Well, he’d put a gun in her mouth and blown her clean away.
But of course, out of respect for his cousin’s engagement, he’d paid for another party, only bigger and better, and out of respect for Italian custom – something very important to him – he’d gone to his mother’s funeral, laying a wreath made up of white lilies and yellow roses – her favourite flowers – at her gravestone.
‘Thank you, Sal,’ he said eventually, his thoughts returning to Ally and Salvatore. ‘She would’ve made somebody a good wife. However, let’s get down to business and why you’re here.’
Salvatore nodded, taking a seat in the deserted visitors’ room. He spoke respectfully, although what he was about to say he knew was the last thing that Nico would want to hear. But what choice did he have? Franny certainly hadn’t given him one and being out of pocket by a couple of million dollars was a sting, and there’d be no hiding that. He chose his words carefully.
‘Nico, as I said when I spoke to you, we’ve a problem. There was coke in Ally’s car ready to be shipped out along the coast, but after the accident, it had to be disposed of by Cabhan.’
Salvatore stopped to stare at his brother. He could see the vein on the side of his head pulsating.
Coldly and simply, Nico said, ‘Go on.’
‘Given the circumstances, Cabhan felt it was the right thing to do. He couldn’t call the cops without them discovering what was in the car, and even if he’d never called anyone, he would’ve been stuck there and we would’ve still been out of pocket anyway. There was no way he could’ve got off that ledge without help. Maybe getting rid of the coke was the only thing he could’ve done.’
‘How much coke are we actually talking about?’
‘Just over two million dollars.’
Nico nodded again, saying nothing. Giving away nothing. His face void of emotion.
After a couple of minutes, Nico said, ‘Tell me, Salvatore, why didn’t I know about the coke before? Why hadn’t you asked my permission before you went ahead with this?’
‘I’m telling you now.’
Slowly and menacingly, Nico leant across the table to his brother. ‘Ora non è prima. Now is not before. Do I need to remind you about respect, Salvatore?’
‘Nico, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like I was disrespecting you. I meant this is the first opportunity I have had to tell you.’
‘But if the accident hadn’t happened, and you hadn’t lost all that money, you wouldn’t have told me about this shipment, huh? Maybe you’re pleased I’m in here. So you can run things without telling me, is that it, Sal?’
Sal stared at his brother. ‘No … No, of course not.’
‘Do you think this is something I should worry about? That my little brother is trying to take over the family business behind my back?’
Salvatore pleaded with his brother, kissing Nico’s hand. ‘Nico, Nico. Please, it’s not like that. Sometimes I want to get ahead. Make decisions without running them past you, because I don’t want to disturb you all the time.’
Nico’s face darkened as his voice rose. He gestured with his arm. ‘Disturb me from what, Salvatore? Does this place look like an opera house to you? Like you’re disturbing me from the opening act of La Traviata?’
‘No, Nico.’
‘No, because I’m in this fucking hellhole night and day. I was the one who took the rap, not you, but I did it for you and you repay me by going behind my back … Tell me something, Sal, should I be blaming you for the accident?’
Salvatore’s face blanched. ‘What?’
‘Ally was your niece, it was your job, whilst I was in here, to look after her like a father.’
‘I did.’
‘No, because if you had she wouldn’t be dead. Why didn’t you drive her home that night?’
‘She insisted on driving and wanted to go with Cabhan.’
Nico slammed both his fists down, his voice rising. ‘And you let her?’
‘I didn’t see it as a problem. Ally drove that car so many times …’ Salvatore trailed off.
‘So who should I be blaming, Sal, if it’s not you? Ally? Cabhan? Who?’
Under pressure, Salvatore’s eyes darted around the room. ‘Maybe … I don’t know. Perhaps there isn’t anyone to blame apart from the accident itself … Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry about all of it, and from now on everything will be run past you as it always was.’
Though Nico’s tone was warmer, his stare was so hard and so even, Salvatore couldn’t look at him.
‘What is this? You’re going soft on me, Sal? Either pussy must be good or business must be. So good that you’re okay with losing our money …’
Reaching across the table, Nico clipped his younger brother across the side of his head, like he had done when they were kids. ‘Huh? I’m right, aren’t I? You’ve got some pussy you haven’t told me about.’
Laughing, Salvatore leant back on the plastic chair. ‘No, it’s just that there’s an answer to this problem.’
Nico’s voice was full of interest. ‘Sto ascoltando. I’m listening.’
‘Franny Doyle. Patrick’s daughter.’
Looking surprised, Nico thought back. He remembered her name, mainly from her father and how much he’d talked about her. He was as proud of her as any man would’ve been about a son. She’d been his driving force. Everything he did, he’d done for her. And Cabhan had been the same, idolising Franny as if she were his own kid. Though the couple of times he had met Franny, the only thing that stuck in his mind was that she’d been a ball-breaker with too much of a smart mouth.
‘You’re making no sense, Sal.’
‘Franny wants to compensate us for the money. Although she says that Cabhan acted with our best interests in mind, she still wants to show her respect by paying for what was lost … She’s insisting on seeing you in person.’
Nico Russo contemplated this thought and, intrigued by meeting this woman again, he answered simply, ‘Okay. When?’
‘She’s here now, Nico, with Cabhan. I’m sorry, but she gave me no choice.’
Picking a crumb of food out of his teeth, Nico looked at his brother scornfully. ‘How can a woman give you no choice?’
Humiliated, Salvatore flushed. ‘I’m sorry. What shall I tell her?’
‘Show her in. What sort of host would I be if I turned my guests away?’
Ten minutes later, with the prison officers having been left to stand outside on Nico’s orders, Franny and Cabhan sat opposite him. Franny spoke calmly and firmly, showing great respect towards Nico, despite feeling none. She knew that this might be their best opportunity to get Cabhan back home to England.
‘Both