Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Luca
I never thought I would walk in voluntarily.
Yet I was doing precisely that on a clear day, my hands and feet unrestrained as the sun beat down on my skin. There was every chance I would never feel the sun again. This was a gamble, and no one quite knew the outcome.
The building was brown and square, the footprint a full city block. The stories towered above the street like a sentry against the Roman sky. I carried no mobile, no identification. No Euros. I had nothing but the clothes on my back.
My heart beat slow and steady despite my trepidation. There was no changing my mind now—not that I would. I pulled open the door and approached the security checkpoint.
“Name and who are you here to see?” the guard asked me.
“Luca Benetti. I’m here to see Colonnello Palmieri.”
The officer looked up from his computer, mouth slack. I didn’t move a muscle. The cameras would’ve picked me up by now. No doubt some alarm was sounding amongst the officers .
Sure enough, the phones began ringing at the desk.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dozen officers sprinting toward me. The urge to flee, ingrained since birth, was strong, but I remained still. In a blink they were on me, shoving me into the desk and dragging my arms behind my back. Hands ran up and down my legs, my waist. They even grabbed my balls, as if I had a pistol taped to my sac.
I didn’t fight, didn’t protest. They hauled me up and cuffed my wrists. Then they marched me through the metal detector. My belt set off the alarm, so that was quickly removed and I was sent through once again. When I cleared, they sneered at me, telling me of my stupidity, how I’d never see daylight ever again.
“I’m here to see Colonnello Palmieri,” I repeated loudly enough for the cameras to hear.
They dragged me to an elevator and shoved me inside. Instead of going up to the offices, we went down. I wasn’t surprised. They wouldn’t trust me around others.
It was cool below ground. Under the fluorescent lighting, rows of doors stretched along the corridor. They opened one and took me inside, where I was handcuffed to the chair, my arms stretched painfully behind me. It was pointless to complain, however.
How long would he make me wait? If I were in his shoes, I wouldn’t rush. I would keep the criminal miserable for as long as possible. But I suspected that many of Rossi’s claims were false, including Palmieri’s case against me in retaliation for his wife. If this was the case, Palmieri would be shocked and curious over my appearance today.
I’d soon find out.
The minutes crawled by. I tried to adjust my position, but there was no relief. Finally, my arms went numb. I counted the dots on the ceiling, a mindless task that prevented me from second-guessing myself.
Before we touched down in Catanzaro, we spoke to Alessandro Ricci’s assistant, who said the hit hadn’t been put on the open market. This meant Rossi hadn’t hired an assassin. I had to assume he’d handled the job himself, which might explain why it had gone to shit.
Just when I wondered if they were planning on keeping me like this all night, the door opened. An older man entered, a thick file folder in his hands. He wasn’t very tall and a thin mustache graced his upper lip. The wrinkled suit he wore wasn’t flashy, but it was quality.
I said nothing as he slapped the file folder on the table and lowered himself into the seat opposite me. “God must be smiling upon me today.”
I smirked, hoping to annoy him. “Colonnello Palmieri. You are supposed to be intelligent. Haven’t you stopped to ask yourself why I walked in?”
“It hardly matters.” He gestured to the folder full of papers. “This ensures you won’t ever walk out. So the reason for your visit is immaterial.”
“Wrong. It is very material, Colonnello.”
He pounded his fist on the tabletop, causing the file folder to jump. “You slept with my wife!”
Ah. So he was aware. “She approached me in a bar and gave me a fake name. If I knew she was your wife, I would’ve turned her down.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Sighing, I rolled my lips together. “Don’t be stubborn. I’m not here because of your wife.”
“Illuminate me, then, Don Benetti. Tell me these reasons for why you have sought me out today.”
“Is that all for me?” I asked, tipping my head toward the folder on the table.
“These are only the recent things I have discovered about you and your ’ndrina. There are six more folders upstairs.”
“Six?” I whistled. “Impressive.”
“Is this wise? Sarcasm from a man facing prison for the rest of his life?”
“And what is the charge? ”
Palmieri stared at me flatly, his fingers drumming on the tabletop. “Are you here to cut a deal? To turn on your family and the ’Ndrangheta?”
“I would shoot myself in the head before I ever betrayed my family. I’m here to ask questions.”
The way he stared at me would’ve shriveled the balls for a lesser man. “You are a criminal, a murderer. Why would I ever help you?”
“Because I have information on your daughter’s murderer.”
That got his attention. His back straightened and he leaned closer. “Did you find Flavio Segreto?”
I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t talking until I had my questions answered.
“Dimmi!” he snapped.
“Ma dai,” I said calmly, “that is not how this works. You answer my questions first, then I’ll tell you what I know.”
Seconds ticked by as he seemed to consider this. Finally, he shoved the file folder to the side and propped his elbows on the table. “Fine. I agree.”
“Turn off the cameras first.” I tilted my head toward the corner, where I knew all the footage was being recorded. “I don’t want anyone overhearing this.”
He rose and went to the door, mumbled something to a person in the hall, then came around behind my chair. Grabbing my wrists, he deftly unlocked the handcuffs to free my hands.
“Grazie,” I gritted out as blood painfully rushed back into my arms.
When he retook his seat, he said, “There. No cameras. Ask your question.”
I shook out my shoulders. “Did you have my cousin in custody?”
“Who?”
“Niccolò Benetti.”
“No.”
“Did you have him at a safe house or any other facility? ”
“How many different ways can I say no? We never had him in any capacity. I’ve never met him.”
Ah. So Rossi had lied. I had no idea where Niccolò went and why he was no longer answering his mobile, but it had nothing to do with the GDF.
And Rossi would pay for using me.
“And,” Palmieri added, “if I had one of your cousins in custody, you would be in prison already.”
He was so smug, but Benettis didn’t rat out our family. “No doubt.”
“I’ve answered your question, so now you will tell me where to find Flavio Segreto.”
“Not until I make a call first.”
Palmieri’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared. “Why should I let you use a phone, or do anything else, for that matter?”
I met his look of incredulity with one of steel. “Because that’s the only way you’ll find out what you need to know.”
Palmieri considered my demand for another moment and then looked toward the door and held his hand to his face as if making a telephone call. Soon the door opened and a burner phone was placed on the table. “This had better be worth it, Benetti.”
“Alone,” I said when he didn’t leave.
He frowned but disappeared into the hall, the lock engaging behind him.
I dialed a familiar number.
“Pronto,” Don Rossi answered.
“You lied to me.” I kept my voice smooth, like a snake just before it strikes. “About my cousin.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. The whole thing was a setup and I don’t appreciate being used, stronzo.”
“Are you threatening me? We are not equals, Benetti. You had better watch what you say.”
“Fuck off. This isn’t done.”
I disconnected, broke the phone apart, and tossed it onto the desk.
A few seconds later Palmieri returned. “I’ve waited long enough. Where is Segreto? I know he killed my daughter.”
“He didn’t. Segreto has been in hiding the entire time.”
“Impossible. The evidence points to Segreto.”
I cocked my head. “Who gave you this evidence?”
“It doesn’t matter. I know it was Segreto. Rumor is you went to find him. So where is he?”
Frustration began to build, but I squashed it. “Colonnello, Segreto did not kill your daughter. I suggest you start looking elsewhere.”
“You say this as if you are certain, as if you know who is responsible.” He tapped his fingers on the old table. “So tell me who, Benetti.”
I couldn’t rat out Don Rossi, even if I wished, because it would break our code and bring dishonor to my family. It could possibly start a war with the other ’ndrine. It went against everything I’d ever promised. “I can’t tell you. But I can confirm Segreto is innocent. The information pointing to him was incorrect.”
Palmieri shot up out of his chair and began pacing, his shoulders stiff and angry. “I want a name! I want to know who slaughtered my little girl. He deserves to stand trial and I deserve vengeance!”
“I understand, Colonnello. But I can’t tell you any more than I already have. It would put my life and family in great danger.”
Whipping around he pounded his fist on the table. “You should fear me , Benetti. Because if you don’t tell me, you will live to regret it.”
“Then we are at an impasse, because I will not say more.” I pushed to my feet and pulled on my cuffs, straightening them. “Good luck, Colonnello.”
He moved to block my path. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Home. Unless you’re arresting me, but we both know you don’t have cause. ”
“I have cause,” he said, motioning to the folder. “I have ten years’ worth of cause.”
“No, you don’t. Because if you did, you would’ve arrested me long before today.”
Palmieri snatched the handcuffs off the table. “Then let me make it perfectly clear: I’m arresting you unless you give me Segreto or his daughter. Then I’ll ask them my own questions. It’s clear the answer is there somewhere.”
I would die before I turned Valentina over to the GDF. And I promised her I wouldn’t involve her father.
We stared at one another. Palmieri’s eyes were almost manic, blazing with hatred and resentment. I slipped my hands into my trouser pockets and remained calm. “Is this because I fucked your wife?”
He let out a growl right before his fist connected with my cheek. I stumbled back a half step, my face now on fire. I straightened and looked down at him. Slowly, my hands clenched into fists, while the need for violence, for retribution made me tremble. I spoke softly, but with deadly intent. “You will regret this.”
With a sneer, he lunged for the door and yanked it open. “ Vieni qui , per favore!” he called into the corridor. “Today we place the great Don Benetti under arrest.”