Chapter 34
Chapter thirty-four
Silence whispers Francesca’s name and visions of chess pieces plague my thoughts as I drive like I have nine lives.
Wheels screech and horns honk as I turn off Cicero Avenue, barreling through the open gates. Turning the wheel sharply, I streak across the cracked access road behind the freight yard. My heart hammers in my chest as I slow down then jerk the wheel, coming to stop in front of our warehouse.
Thick mist rolls through the industrial corridor, swallowing the tail end of the old train tracks and creeping in coils across the lot.
I turn off the engine and step out onto the gravel lot littered with broken glass, bullet casings, and tire marks.
The brick facade that looms before me is weathered and streaked with dirt. A pair of massive steel loading doors are secured by thick sliding bolts, rust flakes around the seams. The place looks like it hasn’t been in operation for years, and that’s the idea.
Fog wraps itself around the building edges like a restless predator hiding in the gray.
Matteo, Salvatore, and Lucia are standing on the platform waiting for me. The guards are everywhere.
Wind bites my cheeks as my boots crunch against the gravel. Coming closer, I can see the grim expressions on their faces and I know that something has gone very wrong.
Lucia has tears in her eyes, Salvatore’s head is bowed, and Matteo’s posture is rigid. His jaw is clenched so tight it might break.
A distant rattle of a freight train whips through the yard, echoing the morbid tone of the moment.
“What happened?” I ask, rushing up the steps.
“It’s bad, Cipi.” Taking my arm, Matteo guides me through the doors into the warehouse. Lucia and Salvatore follow. “They sent another warning.”
Matteo’s eyes are hollow pits of exhaustion, an etch of frustration is highlighted in his pupils. He glances at me with a type of resentment. “I came to the warehouse this morning to check on the tables and there he was.”
The fluorescent lights flicker overhead as we round a stack of crates.
A body lies on the floor before us.
Fear grips me tight in its clutches.
I don’t know him.
I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.
“Who is he?” I rush over to his side.
“He was one of our new recruits, he came straight from Sicily. He’s only been here for about a week,” Matteo crosses his arm.
A pool of blood spreads beneath the victim like a dark halo, seeping into the cracks of the concrete. His limbs are twisted at unnatural angles like a marionette with its strings severed.
He stares blankly at the ceiling. Pupils wide, vacant, and glassy, consumed by death.
At his temple just beneath the hairline is a gaping wound.
Shredded flesh clings to the edges and a glimpse of white reveals the broken bone.
Rivers of crimson trace the contour of his cheek like paint. A deep slash runs across his throat.
But what makes the sight even worse is his parted lips, wedged between his teeth is a small chess piece.
A pawn.
Next to him is a piece of paper.
Picking it up, I see another stanza from The Raven.
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
“Another part of The Raven,” Matteo muses, glancing over my shoulder.
Salvatore walks over to the man and makes the sign of the cross before bending down. He removes the pawn from the young man’s mouth. “Madonna, another piece from Vicenzo’s set.”
“That exact piece was delivered to me today.” I stare at the lifeless form.
After failed attempts the killer had finally struck.
He had chosen someone who was part of the family but not valuable.
Someone that was disposable.
The lowest piece on the board.
But even pawns can change the game if they make it to the end.
“He was an orphan, he had no family,” Salvatore stands up.
Someone at the low end. A pawn. Important enough to send a message but unimportant enough not to cripple us.
“What was he doing here by himself?” I demand.
“He wasn’t. He was with two other guards. They did the perimeter check and locked up. Everyone got in their cars and left. The other men swore to me that this fellow left in his car along with the rest of them,” Matteo begins to pace.
“The security cameras went down about an hour ago. I phoned Salvatore and he met me here. All the inventory was there, then we found the body,” Lucia clicks her tongue.
“All these years and no one has ever been killed on our turf,” Matteo adds.
I flinch. His last comment feels like a dig.
Footsteps echo behind us. Enzo and Luca turn the corner, their expressions grim.
“We cased the entire perimeter and found no clue as to who could have done this,” Enzo announces.
Matteo shakes his head in disgust. “This is fucking insane.”
Enzo turns to me. “What do you want us to do with the body, boss?”
“Just wrap him up and throw him behind the old train yard where the rest of others went,” Matteo answers before I get a chance. He waves his hand in disgust.
I raise my eyebrows. Enzo ignores him and looks at me for directions. “He was part of the family, he wasn’t our enemy. That’s where our enemies go.” I turn to Salvatore. “You said he had no other family right?”
Salvatore shakes his head. “Nope. He was an orphan.”
“Then bury him in our private lot on Maple. He deserves dignity.”
Enzo nods his head. He and the other guards move around the body. Wrapping him carefully in a tarp, they carry him to their car leaving only a crimson pool that looks like spilled ink.
The scent of blood hangs in the air and when the door clangs shut behind them, the silence that follows is louder than anything.
Lucia kneels next to the blood stain. “Poor kid, he was so young too. Only twenty one. All those failed attempts and they finally struck.”
Rage burns in my chest. “He didn’t deserve that.”
“No one does,” Salvatore replies. “But pawns are always the first to fall.”
I turn toward him. “He wasn’t a pawn, Sal. He was a person.”
His shoulders slump. “I didn’t mean it like that, Cipi.” He holds up the pawn and stares at it. “No matter how much time has passed you’re still the same kind-hearted person. Always feeling bad no matter how many people get slaughtered.”
Lucia paces the floor. “How does this keep happening? Someone has been able to get into our territory, turn off the cameras, and kill without any of us noticing.”
“Cipi should have the answer to that,” Matteo interrupts. “She’s the one who's working with the ex-FBI.” He leans against the wall. “Tell us boss what has the man discovered.”
I don’t reply.
“She’s still recovering, Matteo,” Lucia interrupts. “We’re dealing with someone who’s very smart and calculated.”
“I think she’s been recovering just fine with Dominic tending to her every need,” Matteo retorts.
I narrow my eyes. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means he’s been too busy fucking you to figure out who is trying to kill us all.”
“What?”
“Oh come on Cugina, don’t pretend you’re not fucking him. Gigi ran her mouth and told all of us,” Matteo shouts. “Is that the only reason why you suggested him because you knew he didn’t work for the feds any more. You missed the old sausage and wanted to ride it again?”
“Shut the fuck up, Matteo,” I snap.
His eyes flash. “Exactly.”
“Stop acting like you’re so innocent. You know ever since your breakup, you’ve been on the hunt for any panties you can get,” I snarl.
“Guys,” Lucia warns.
“Well, at least I do my panty hunting in my off hours, unlike you,” Matteo retorts.
“Anybody would be a fool to drop their panties for you, asshole,” I shout.
“At least I can get them and I don’t have to double back to the same one who left me because of what my family does.”
I snatch the pawn out of Salvatore’s hand and throw it at him.
Matteo ducks and laughs. “Real mature Cipi.”
“Fuck you.” I snap. “What I’ve discovered is that the killer is one of us. It has to be. Only someone in our circle would be able to hack into the security system and know everyone’s schedule to be able to slip in and out unnoticed.”
“That’s impossible,” Salvatore picks up the fallen chess piece. “It has to be one of the other families, like Valerio Neri or someone.”
“I checked Valerio out already. He didn’t do it. But whoever is responsible has some connection to the Marconi Family.”
“So you’re saying one of us did it?” Matteo cries.
“I didn’t say that.”
“How dare you accuse us when we have been loyal to your dumbass all these years,” Matteo taunts.
“Who the hell are you talking to right now?” I shout. “I didn’t accuse anyone of anything, Stunad. You think I want to believe the fact that someone in my family tried to kill me. I don’t want that.”
Matteo snatches up the paper. “Well maybe if Zio Vincenzo hadn’t slaughtered a whole family we wouldn’t be in this mess right now.
This stanza proves it. The speaker in the poem is being confronted by a raven who’s haunting him.
Just like the Marconi Family is haunting us right now.
The killer is going to take our lives but wanted to torture us first for the crimes Zio Vincenzo did. ”
Lucia tilts her head. “When the hell did you get so smart? You hated English class.”
“I did hate English class, but I didn’t hate Daniela Fachetti. She was an English buff and I had to woo her over by knowing the symbolism of every damn piece of literature we read. If only our fearless leader could use the same type of knowledge and find out who the fuck wants us dead.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’ve been getting a bit high and mighty for your own good, Cugino. You’ve been making decisions behind my back acting like the boss when you’re not in charge.”
“I’m the underboss that counts for something. I’ve only been making those decisions to save your ass. A lot of people in the family are not happy with you and feel like you’re losing your touch,” Matteo retorts.
“And yet none of them have been able to say it to my face.”
“Well I am right now. For years our empire was strong. Now you’ve hit your thirties and everything’s going to hell. Maybe it’s time to give it up. You know, get married, have kids or something.”
His words hit me hard and the slap that I give him to the face is even louder.
This is the exact thing I’ve spent years proving to myself. Dumbass men thinking a woman can’t handle running a crime organization.
He stumbles back clutching his hand to his cheek.
I lunge at him but Salvatore grabs me. “Guards!” He yells. “Get over here now.”
“How dare you!” I yell. “You know damn well I’ve built this empire into something my father could have only dreamed of.”
“Everything is all fucked up, Cipi,” He yells.
“You’ve let a killer infiltrate our circle, steal your father’s chess set, then pick us off one by one.
Now we have to look over our shoulders to see if we’re going to be the next person killed.
You have no idea who the person is. You’re supposed to be keeping us safe, not setting us up for slaughter.
Maybe you should take some time off and get your head screwed on straight. ”
I elbow Salvatore in the side so he lets go of me. Reaching into my boot, I pull out a switchblade. Flipping it open, the blade gleams in the floodlights. “You take that back.” I go after him.
Salvatore grabs me again before I can reach him. “Stop it! Both of you! Just stop it. Guards! Get the fuck over here!”
Footsteps echo as the guards come and surround Matteo separating us.
Salvatore holds me back, but I fight to get to Matteo.
“Cipi calm down. This is bullshit. We’re family, you aren’t going to turn on one another.
” He glares at Matteo. “You get the fuck out of here and go clear your head. Watch your mouth next time before I let her go and she’ll tear you apart.
You know Cipi can fight and she will beat your ass.
” He shakes his head. “I should smack you for being so disrespectful.”
Matteo scowls and storms off.
Lucia is by my side as Salvatore lets me go. “It’s okay, Cipi.” She takes the switchblade from my hand.
“I don’t like his attitude and what he said,” Salvatore mutters. “His actions have been questionable. You and Dominic might be onto something about the killer being within. I’m sure Matteo would love nothing more than to be in charge and have the whole family at his disposal.”
“Matteo wouldn’t do something like that, he’s like a brother to me. We grew up together,” I protest.
“Power makes people act in strange ways, Farfalla. People will go to great lengths to obtain it.” He lets go of me and places the pawn on a nearby crate. “I can’t wait until I find out who has that damn chess board. I’m going to strangle them.”
“That means it has to be someone in our inner circle,” Lucia rubs my shoulder. “That chessboard was at your parents’ house, only someone in the family would have been allowed inside.”
My chest heaves as I breathe like a wild animal.
My cheeks are hot with fury as shame fills me.
I shouldn’t have lost control.
That’s not the sign of a leader.
Being hot-tempered makes you react on emotion instead of strategy.
It’s a toxic trait that will land you six feet under.
I blink back tears as I stare at the warehouse floor, at the crimson pool of blood and the imprint where the body used to be.
How dare I let Matteo’s words make me doubt myself.
Maybe bringing Dominic onto the case was a bad idea.
“Cipi?” Lucia’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Are you okay?”
I nod, staring at the pawn on the crate. “I’m fine. Maybe we should put a tail on Matteo. Have one of the guards trail him twenty-four seven.”
“Excellent idea,” Salvatore replies.
“You think he did it?” Lucia’s eyes widen.
“No. But if we have eyes on where he goes, we can rule him out. Just don’t make it obvious. I don’t want to upset him any more.”
“I’ll get right on it,” Salvatore pulls out his burner.
Giving the blood stain one last look, I turn to Lucia. “Let’s get out of here.”
My father once told me, you never see the knife coming until it’s already in your back.
Now I finally understand what he meant.
And I'm scared to know who's holding it.