Chapter 8
After breakfast, Camille left, so Luigi went to his study to go over what he knew already.
He had told his son, his consigliere, and his caporegimes about a fake shipment of pure heroine coming in and asked them to send out their crews to pick it up. All three pickup spots in the wharf had been raided upon their crews’ arrivals, and they had gotten arrested.
It stood to reason that the tip about the consignment must have gotten to the police from the people whom he told. They were the only people who knew all three spots.
Their phones were the only means of communication any of them could have used to alert the police. Yet he could not find anything in them or in their wives’ devices.
Perhaps the culprit has deleted all incriminating messages, Luigi reasoned. He felt foolish for not considering that possibility.
Now there was no other readily available course of action to follow. There were no CCTV cameras within his property, so there was no way to track the movement of his guests.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. “Come in,” he called out.
Lucia came in, holding open her palm. “You should take a look at these,” she said and set them down on his table.
Luigi recognized them immediately: electronic bugs. They were round with adhesive undersides to glue them to surfaces.
The cold hands of fear clutched hard at Luigi's spine. “Where did you find them?” he asked.
Lucia pointed at the bugs on the right. “These two were in Paulo's rooms, and that one…” She pointed at the one on the left. “That one was under the coffee table downstairs.”
“The living room downstairs?” Luigi asked.
“Yes.”
Luigi sighed. “Get me Dante and Paulo at once.”
While he waited, he swiveled his chair away from his desk so he could face the window behind it. The fountain was to his right, gushing water.
Manzano and Julio stood there now, talking animatedly. Luigi could only hope it was not an argument or a consideration of a revolt.
Away from them, the black asphalt of his driveway snaked around the fountain and stretched down to the gate. Beside the gate, the guard house stood in somber gray.
Can I even trust those ones? Luigi wondered. They were the only people maintaining his hold here. If they switched sides, he'd only have his reputation for violence and penchant for revenge to keep the men in line.
The tiger never forgets. He then thought of Camille. She should have come into my life in a time of peace.
Dante came in then, long before Luigi expected him. He was the most efficient driver and bodyguard Luigi had ever had.
“When was the last time you swept my car for bugs?” Luigi asked without looking at him.
“This morning,” Dante replied.
It didn't matter because Luigi never made verbal orders in his car or outside his house.
“Sweep the house,” he instructed Dante. “Every nook and cranny.”
“Should I start here?” Dante asked.
“Yes.” Luigi gestured at the cabinet on the wall across from the room. There was an electronic bug sweeper in it. Dante brought it out and started to check immediately.
There was nothing in the study.
“I'll check the bedrooms and the den,” Dante told him and left.
Paulo came in soon after. “You sent for me?”
Luigi turned his chair to face him. “When was the last time you swept your room for bugs?”
“Yesterday,” Paulo answered.
Luigi nodded. Whoever brought in the bugs probably put them in place the previous night.
“Did something happen?” Paulo asked anxiously.
“Who was in your room last night?” Luigi asked.
“Um… let me see… Brooke.” As he said the name, he gritted his teeth to wait for Luigi's disapproval.
“Was it only her?”
“Yes,” Paulo replied. “She's the only one I slept with, of course.”
Luigi shook his head. “That isn't what I asked about. Did any other person enter your room before the party, after the party, during the party…”
“Oh, Camille came in with Brooke,” Paulo said. “After she left, it was just us. Lucia came in, too. And I think I spoke with Julio in my room, too, after the party, after we left you.”
Luigi nodded again. “Your room was bugged, Paulo.”
Paulo frowned. “What? Impossible…”
Luigi didn't reply to him then. His cellphone was buzzing with an incoming text. He snatched up the phone to see.
It was from Cassius. His message was simple: 225 of Paulo can't compete with mora loim. That is where your ill health stems from.
Luigi frowned. The message was easy to decode. The first was an address, and the second explained it.
A two-part address with a name ruled out physical addresses or phone numbers. An email was the only other option that made sense.
Luigi grabbed a notepad and a pen and scribbled fast: Paulo225@...
He stopped and stared hard at the rest of the address. It was easy to figure out once he pulled out the letters m, a, l, and i to form mail. The letters left came from Moro.
.
Luigi looked up at Paulo.
Paulo's gaze was already on him. It was speculative. “Is everything alright?”
Luigi showed him the pad, and he came forward to read the words on it.
“That's my email,” he said. “One of them.”
Luigi waited.
“Why are you showing it to me?” Paulo asked. “Is everything okay?”
Dante came in then. He had two electronic bugs in his hands.
Luigi rose up in shock. “Where did you find them?”
Dante glanced at Paulo before he spoke. “Your bedroom, sir.”
There were only two people who had been in there since he last swept it for bugs: Lucia and Camille.
Which of them is working with Paulo?
“Leave us, Dante,” Luigi said.
Dante placed the bugs on the table and left with the sweeper.
Luigi went around his table to where Paulo stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked into Paulo's eyes, and Paulo held his gaze.
“Paulo,” he said. “Answer me truthfully. Did you betray me?”
Paulo frowned. “No, dad. I didn't. Why do you think so?”
“The tip off that alerted the police to our operation last night came from your email,” Luigi explained, “that email I just showed you. So, I'll ask you again, as your father: Did you betray me?”
“No,” Paulo said firmly. “There must be some mistake.”
He didn't try to wriggle away or avert his gaze. He kept his eyes locked with Luigi's.
“What sort of mistake?” Luigi asked.
Paulo scrunched up his face thoughtfully. “I'm not sure… somebody might have snuck into my room and used my email to send it.”
Luigi wasn't convinced. “All your devices are locked to fingerprint scans and codes, aren't they?”
“They are…” The frown on Paulo's face cleared up. It was replaced by a stony blankness; the trademark looks of the Frazetta family when things go wrong. “Camille asked to borrow my laptop to check her work emails last night.”
Camille.
She had also been in Luigi's bedroom this morning. Yet that didn't explain how the information about the consignments could have gotten to her.
Paulo was either lying, or Camille was working with somebody at the top of his hierarchy.
“Sit here,” he told Paulo and grabbed the house landline.
“Sir?” Lucia was on the other end, waiting to attend to his needs.
“The bugs you found in Paulo's rooms, where did you see them?” Luigi asked.
“One was in the breast pocket of his jacket, and the other was under his desk,” Lucia replied. “He's not in trouble, is he?”
“Bring Camille to my bedroom immediately,” Luigi instructed and replaced the phone.
“You don't believe me,” Paulo said, “your own son.”
“You've been terribly careless,” Luigi fired back. “I'd be more furious with you if some amateurs were able to infiltrate our family and gather information because of you than if you betrayed me.”
“I could never betray you,” Paulo said.
“Your weakness, your excessive love for women is a knife at my throat!” Luigi snarled. “How is it different from a betrayal?”
“Betrayals sting more. I may have failed you, but I never spurned the path I swore to you.” His eyes were bright with unshed tears, but he inclined his face and blinked hard to keep them from spilling.
Luigi stormed out of the room. On his way to his bedroom, he grappled with his own failure.
Camille came into the room five minutes later. Her nipples were hard beneath the shirt she had chosen. This time, it was a crop top that showed off her toned midriff. Her skirt came down to her knees, but Luigi was certain there was nothing under it. Just her pussy, his place of comfort.
As soon as she shut the door and bolted it, she ran over to hug him. To Luigi's eternal shame, he opened his arms to enfold her.
I can't be sure it's her yet, he reasoned. There's no real evidence.
She stretched up to kiss him, and he bent to meet her lips. They were soft, like he recalled, and warm and pliable, like her body, which pressed against his.
She was the only one to enter your bedroom, the quiet voice in his head reminded him.
Lucia did, too, he argued silently.
Lucia brought the bugs to you! The voice fired back.
Camille broke their kiss. “I want you,” she said and turned toward his bed. She pulled him along as she walked to the bed.
Are you going to keep Paulo waiting? The quiet voice queried.
Luigi knew he couldn't, shouldn't. He stopped, not far from the bed.
“What's wrong?” Camille asked. Even as she waited for an answer, she pulled off her clothes, first the top to free her breasts and then the skirt to reveal her bare slit.
“I have to ask you a question,” Luigi said.
“What question?” she asked. Her big blue eyes were guileless. The only thing he could see in them was her need for him.
He needed her, too, but it would be a sin to coddle her when he had asked Paulo the hard questions.
How should I ask? he wondered.
“Uh huh?” She drew closer to him and undid his fly.
Luigi didn't stop her. Rather, he watched her go down to her knees as she pulled down his pants.