“Where is he?” the cop barks at me from across the room. I’ve seen this one before. It’s part of my job to know exactly which carabinieri work in the city and recognize them by sight, no matter their rank.
I turn to him with a blank stare, and slowly, my brows bunch into confusion. “Who?”
“You know who.”
I tip my head to the side. “Are you certain?”
I know people think I’m thick, but my God, why do they make it so easy for me to toy with them?
“Where is your boss?” This question comes from Sergeant Gallo, a man who’s just a little too good at his job for my liking. It’s harder to frustrate him by pretending to be dumber than I am.
“I’m here,” Salvo says, pushing into the room with an amiable smile on his face. “How can I be of service?”
He leans one arm on the bar and smiles warmly at the sergeant, focusing on him only. His eyes don’t dart to the table across the room, and so, neither do mine. I’m not thick, but I do appreciate being able to follow his lead.
That’s what I do best.
“There was a commotion in the square,” Sergeant Gallo says.
“Oh?” Salvo replies in a saddened tone. He shakes his head and turns to me. “This used to be such a lovely place.”
I shrug and turn back to wiping the glasses in front of me. I’d never use the word ‘lovely’ to describe any place, so that doesn’t mean anything to me.
“It did. My job is to pull this city back from the unsavory elements trying to destroy it.”
Salvo hums excitedly. “A commendable effort! I look forward to celebrating your successes one day. Now, if you’ll excuse me, we’re preparing for the lunch rush.”
“Did you see what happened outside?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
“Oh?”
I have to turn away to hide my smile. Most people in this business are disdainful of the police, and they don’t bother to hide it. But Salvo and Giulio get a kick out of feigning respect — as if they know they’re on borrowed time and only want to entertain the saints for one more good day before it all comes crashing down. They have the kind of reckless spirit that I appreciate but cannot mimic in the same way, so I keep my mouth shut.
When I look back at Sergeant Gallo, his face is bright red with fury. I can guess what he’s thinking, the calculations he’s making. If I were him, I would let this go, but he doesn’t, and it’s my turn to shake my head. I honestly expected better of him.
“Alma,” he calls, and our new waitress jumps.
Salvo hired Alma knowing full well that she was an undercover carabinieri, a new recruit courted for exactly this kind of undercover work. I have a contact inside the local precinct, and I’d read her file the day before she’d been sworn in. I could see why they’d chosen her. She is personable but quiet and seems naïve at first glance, but she doesn’t miss anything. She has a great memory, which makes her a fantastic waitress and is probably useful for the police as well, I guess. I’m sure she has a great career ahead of her. I doubt anyone will care that she’s failed here; she isn’t the first one to do so, and it isn’t entirely her fault.
“Sir?” Alma says, clutching the pen in her hand. She looks from Salvo to Gallo and then down at the floor.
“Did you see the commotion out front?”
She looks left and right again, probably trying to find any way to salvage her operation.
“It’s okay,” Salvo says in a gentle voice. “Tell your commander whatever you know.”
Gallo and Alma both start at his words. I don’t hide my smile this time.
“I-I don’t…”
Salvo shakes his head and clucks his tongue like a disappointed mother. “Come now. Lying is so unbecoming.” He shrugs. “More lying, I mean.”
Alma turns to look at Gallo, hoping for guidance from the man who just trashed three months of her first assignment. I almost feel sorry for her. “I didn’t see anything,” she finally admits. “I was in the kitchen helping with lunch preparation.”