Page 20 of Inferno
‘Oh yeah.’ She started manoeuvring the car back around again, taking advantage of the quiet street to pull another tragic turn. ‘Well, then?’
‘The mausoleum,’ I said. ‘Mrs Bailey mentioned going to church earlier and it got me thinking about the Falcones and their beliefs. Their father is buried in Graceland Cemetery. If I leave it there, then one of them will find it eventually.’
‘Ah,’ said Millie, a smile brightening her features. ‘Leave it in the grave. I like it.’
‘You do?’ Relief flooded me. Sometimes it was difficult to tell whether my thoughts were rational or completely insane.
‘And,’ she added, ‘by traipsing through a graveyard, we can get a nice little gander at where you’ll end up if you don’t cut Nic and his familyout of your life!’
‘Mil, can I ask you something?’
‘Sure.’ She turned out of Cedar Hill and we started heading towards the open road.
‘And please be honest.’
‘I am a pillar of integrity.’
‘Are you or are you not reading a Dr Phil book right now?’
‘That man is a saint, Sophie Gracewell. A damn saint.’
A laugh bubbled out of me. ‘The things you do for me.’
‘Tell me about it,’ she sighed. She revved the engine and the car sped up, setting a steady course for the cemetery.
CHAPTER NINETHE CEMETERY
Graceland Cemetery was enormous; almost one hundred and twenty acres of constructed landscape that had been growing since 1860. Now it was a Who’s Who of Chicago’s most important figures. We got the Falcone mausoleum’s location from the main office and chose the most direct route to the lake at the north end of the cemetery. It was bordered by clumps of shrubs and weeping trees. Along the edges, the water was dotted with elaborate stone mausoleums with plaques etched in bronze above them. Some of the names were familiar to me; that’s how I knew we were getting close. We stalled in criminal territory – between the Marinos and the Genoveses – and I pulled out the map again.
‘Crime really does pay,’ said Millie, releasing a low whistle.‘The question is, which of these Mafia families would I have to marry into to get a sarcophagus?’
We stopped at the inked circle on the map and Millie pointed at something in the trees. ‘I bet it’s right on the lake. Prime cemetery real estate. Classic Falcone, eh?’
We made our way along the hidden path. When the branches of overgrown trees tapered away and the way widened, we found ourselves standing on the edge of the lake. There, secluded by the surrounding trees, and poised along the waterfront, was the Falcone mausoleum.
‘Holy crap,’ muttered Millie. ‘How many gangsters are in this thing?’
The mausoleum was a gargantuan structure made of unblemished white stone. On either side of the main chamber, decorative Roman columns marked a small square courtyard filled with hundreds of long-stemmed red roses.
Two weeping angels guarded the entrance to the mausoleum and above the double bronze doors, the Falcone crest had been erected. Thick block letters were etched into the stone:
CASA DI FALCONE
LA FAMIGLIA PRIMA DI TUTTO
We stood, dwarfed, in front of it.
I pulled the switchblade from my pocket. ‘Should I leave it on the steps?’
‘I guess.’ Millie frowned. ‘It could get stolen, though.’
‘We can’t break in,’ I said. ‘Look at those doors.’
She made her way up the steps and started jiggling thehorseshoe handles. With a deafening groan, the door yielded, and she heaved it open, her mouth dropping into a perfect O as she swivelled to face me.
I sprinted up the steps. ‘Oh my God!’
‘We’re breaking in!’
