Page 129 of Empire of Temptation

Sergio scrubbed his face with both hands. “What a fucking mess.”

“A hit like that?” Aldo whistled from across the row. “Not many would accept the job. My guess is he would outsource it.”

Sergio asked, “Russians? Serbians? Albanians?”

I nodded and reached for the half-empty glass of whiskey in front of me. “Seems likely.” I took a sip, thinking as the liquor burned itsway down to my stomach. “There is someone we can ask. Someone who might know.”

Sergio helped himself to a glass of whiskey. “Who?”

“Remember Alessandro Ricci?”

“Of course,” Sergio said.

Aldo let out a dismissive noise. “Ricci had a rule against taking out women and kids. It wasn’t him.”

I knew this. Almost everyone did. “I was thinking of his assistant, the one who handled all the jobs.”

“Wasn’t she former Russian intelligence?” Aldo asked.

“Yes, and if Rossi put the job out for hire, she would remember.”

“Ah.” Sergio put down his drink and took his mobile out of his pocket. When he unlocked it, I said, “Do you have her number?”

“No,” Sergio answered. “To get to her, you need to go through Ricci. And you aren’t getting to him without going through Giulio Ravazzani. And to get to Giulio Ravazzani . . . ” He let that trail off.

“Fuck me.” I finished the rest of my drink and set down the glass. We were lawless criminals, but we did have a code, one I tried to adhere by. “Ring him. Let’s get this over with.”

Sergio tapped on his phone quickly and handed it to me. As it rang, I stared at the sky surrounding the small plane.

“Pronto.”

“It’s Benetti,” I told Marco Ravazzani. “Is he around?”

“Depends. We heard you were in New York.”

I didn’t respond. If Fausto Ravazzani’s consiglieri thought I would explain myself to him, he was wrong. We were not equals, not even close.

Marco sighed. “Hold on.”

The line quieted, no doubt muting his end as he checked with his cousin. But I knew Fausto would pick up, if only out of curiosity. It wasn’t often we spoke.

“Benetti,” a deep voice said. “This is unexpected.”

“Ravazzani,” I greeted. “Ciao, come stai? I hope you and the family are well.”

“Everything is fine here. And you? How is the food in New York?”

“Improved, now that I brought a chef over.” We both chuckled, then I got to the point. “I am calling because I need to speak with your son’s ragazzo.”

“Regarding?”

“It’s not safe for me to say over the phone.”

“I see. He is retired, capisce?”

“I’m aware,” I said. “We are looking for information on something that occurred a few years ago. We hoped his assistant might remember.”

“Ah. Does this have to do with why you were sent to New York?”

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