Page 234 of Mafia Kings: Valentino

I turned to glance at the tourists strolling by.

In the crowd of hundreds, I saw at least six people wheeling suitcases behind them.

“This island isfullof people heading to and from hotels,” Isabella said. “Nobody’s going to think twice if they see you pulling a suitcase around. But if they see you dragging around a guy who’s stiff as a board, they’redefinitelygoing to have questions.”

Crap.

She was right.

“What about getting the suitcase down to the water, though?” I asked. “I’ve got to go down a bunch of stairs to get there.”

“I thought you said Caterina was going to provide a distraction.”

SHIT.

Everything Isabella was saying made sense.

“Be sure to get a suitcase with wheels,” she added. “It’ll be way easier to move him. And I’d get a hard shell – something that can’t get ripped on the rocks.”

“Okay,” I muttered.

“Leave a bit of the zipper open so water can get in. You don’t want it to start floating because of air trapped inside. Actually, maybe youshouldlet it float until you get it out into deeper water, then open the zipper a few inches so water can get in. Once it’s deep enough, put a few rocks inside just to be sure.”

“I wasgoingto weigh himdown,”I grumbled.

I mean, Ihadthought ofsomethings.

Isabella ignored my petulant tone; she was figuring out the specifics. “After you leave here, get the suitcase first. Don’t waste any time, because rigor mortis is going to set infast.

“Once you’ve taken care of that, go buy two new sets of clothes and shoes – as close to what you’re wearing right now as you can find.”

“Why?!”

“The Mediterranean’s crystal clear. It won’t be an issue at night, but if you stow the suitcase too close to shore, people will be able to see it during the daytime.

“Which means you’re going to have to swim out far enough so nobody can see it – which means you’ll be drenched from head to toe. And peoplewillremember a fully dressed, dripping-wet guy coming up out of the water.

“So you needoneset of clothing to take the suitcase out into the water… and you need a dry set to change into before you walk back to the hotel.”

“Why can’t I just change intotheseclothes?” I asked, pulling at my shirt.

“Because you can’t have any salt water on them. My father might smell it when he questions you. Once you’ve had a shower,you can change back into these clothes and throw the wet ones away.”

“…oh.”

I had to admit, I was impressed. She’d thought through every angle – way more thanIhad.

She’d make a fucking greatconsigliere.

“By the way,” she said, “buy a suitcase that’s black, or gray, or a neutral color so it won’t look out of place on the seabed. Nothing red or orange. You don’t want it to be easy to see from the surface.”

“You sure you don’t do this professionally?” I asked in amusement.

“Like I said, I’ve read a lot of murder mysteries.”

“Alright… I guess I’m going withyourplan.”

Hers was a hell of a lot better thanWeekend At Bernie’s.

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