Page 67 of Empress of Savages

I ask, “Might he be a freelance?”

“He could, but this wallet really feels like it’s been carried and handled a long time. Could be faked, but I doubt it.”

I ask him, “So? Why would that not make him a privateer?”

“If he was, then he would more likely have a kit like this for each location. Maybe every job. If they were all this well-worn, well, it would take a lot of doing for a guy who was most likely about a week in any given place.”

“So, we’re no further forward.”

“Not really.” Carlo says, “But, If it’s not Don Romano, who else could it be?

I agree.

Bruno says, “Don Pucci is the only other name around here with these kinds of resources. It’s not like he wouldn’t think of mounting a takeover or whatever all this insanity is, but the way it’s done, it’s all too crude. If Don Pucci wanted to take us over, we would just wake up one morning and find it done. He would be smooth, silent, and fast.”

Carlo says, “I’m thinking the same thing. And there’s been too much of it. Too much force, manpower, co-ordination and precision for it to be anyone from outside. I don’t even think one of the government alphabetti spaghetti agencies would come in cold and pull all of this off. Not without leaving big smoking clues everywhere. No, it has to be Don Romano.”

Carlo is thoughtful for a moment, while he takes a few pulls on his beer. “Okay, here’s the thing. Whoever it is? They’re down four hefty goons, as of today. So, their options for putting out muscle are narrowed.”

I say, “Meaning?”

“Because we pulled back from trying to protect our own businesses, we have a lot of spare manpower. We could put them watching Don Romano’s people.”

I want to sit back. I hate these stupid button seats. I want to move to a swivel chair but they look so conspicuous, I’m not even comfortable being near them.

Bruno’s eyes gleam. “We know the places Don Romano’s bully boys usually hang out, so when they swing into action, there’s a fair chance that we’ll have advance warning.”

Carlo says, “We may be able to track them. Anticipate what their moves are going to be.”

I look at them both. “That gives me an idea.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

In front of a bright red food truck in a little gravel courtyard sun trap, asian fusion dishes, sushi and sashimi are served up in newspaper-lined baskets and plain wood bowls.

I settle onto a bench and I watch the man on the opposite side of the table. “This place is getting a reputation.” I say, “I can see why it’s popular with senior UW Medical staff.”

He looks up. Then he blinks, almost charmingly. “Ms Fortuna.”

Across the bare wood table, the doctor’s eyes flit around as he peers up at me, over his bowl of fish and rice.

“What a pleasant surprise,” his voice is hesitant. He begins to straighten up. “It’s good to see you up and about. How are you feeling?”

“Donna.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s Donna Fortuna.” I smile. “I wouldn’t want you to forget that.”

“Oh. Forgive me. Donna,” his head swivels as Bruno slips in to sit beside him.

Bruno smiles, “You come here for lunch often?”

“Late lunch, I guess,” I say, “Maybe more a light early dinner, would you call it that, Doc?”

Bruno says, “The dumpling soup is supposed to be amazing.”

“I heard that.” I ask the doc, “That’s rice in the bottom there, right? A chirashi bowl, yes? Nice. Mind if I try the seared tuna?” I take a piece of his fish.

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