Chapter 2 - The Ledger That Shouldn't Exist
Daniel Vescari did not approach the table.
That made Luciano more concerned than if he had.
For thirty years, Daniel had been the man who walked toward trouble.
Tonight, he stayed twenty feet away.
He held the ledger against his side.
Marco stood several feet behind him.
Luciano understood the message immediately.
They knew he had learned something.
The only question was how much they believed he knew.
Elena began collecting dishes.
Her hands shook.
Luciano whispered, “Keep moving.”
She did.
He walked toward Daniel.
“Busy night.”
Daniel gave him a tired smile.
“Always is.”
“You running the books yourself now?”
Daniel's eyes flicked toward the ledger.
“Old inventory records.”
“Looks ancient.”
“It is.”
Luciano extended his hand.
“Let me see.”
Daniel did not move.
There it was.
A refusal.
Not spoken.
Not necessary.
Luciano's voice became softer.
“Daniel.”
His old friend handed over the ledger.
Luciano opened it.
Produce orders.
Wine deliveries.
Payroll records.
Nothing unusual.
Then he saw the torn binding near the center.
Pages had been removed.
Seventeen pages.
Daniel watched him notice.
“Problem?”
Luciano closed the book.
“No.”
He handed it back.
Behind Daniel, Marco shifted his weight.
Luciano knew Marco carried a pistol beneath his jacket.
Luciano had one too.
So did three other men in the restaurant.
If violence started here, Elena would be trapped between them.
That could not happen.
Luciano said, “Walk with me.”
Daniel hesitated.
“Now.”
They moved toward the private dining room at the rear.
Marco followed.
Luciano turned.
“Not you.”
Marco stopped.
Daniel said, “He's with me.”
Luciano looked at him.
“That's what concerns me.”
Daniel's jaw tightened.
But he entered the private room alone.
Luciano closed the door.
The city disappeared behind thick curtains.
Only one small table lamp illuminated the room.
Daniel poured himself whiskey.
Luciano didn't sit.
“Anthony Russo.”
Daniel's glass paused halfway to his mouth.
There it was.
Another answer without words.
“You remember him,” Luciano said.
“I remember everyone who handled our books.”
“He wasn't one of ours.”
“He knew enough.”
“Why was he coming to this restaurant?”
Daniel drank.
“Ask him.”
“He's dead.”
“I heard.”
Luciano stepped closer.
“When?”
Daniel looked at him.
“When what?”
“When did you hear?”
A pause.
“Months ago.”
“From whom?”
“Does it matter?”
“It matters because nobody told me.”
Daniel set the glass down.
“You don't need to know every dead accountant in New York.”
“This one had my signature on a quarter-million-dollar payment the day before he died.”
For the first time, Daniel's composure cracked.
Not much.
A blink.
A shallow breath.
Enough.
“Where did you see that?”
Luciano smiled faintly.
“You just answered my question.”
Daniel looked toward the door.
Luciano noticed.
“Marco?”
Daniel's eyes returned to him.
“You're imagining things.”
“Am I?”
“Anthony stole money.”
“From whom?”
“From us.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“That isn't a number.”
“Two million.”
Luciano stared at him.
Daniel continued.
“He found ways to move it through construction invoices.”
“Why wasn't I told?”
“We handled it.”
“We.”
Daniel's face hardened.
“Some problems don't need to reach you.”
“Every problem involving my money reaches me.”
“It wasn't only your money.”
That sentence changed the room.
Luciano folded his arms.
“Explain.”
Daniel walked to the window.
For years they had shared everything.
Prison scares.
Weddings.
Funerals.
Business victories.
Blood.
Luciano had stood beside Daniel when Daniel's son died from an overdose.
Daniel had stood beside Luciano when his wife, Isabella, died of cancer.
There were bonds men believed could not break.
Luciano was beginning to understand that belief was dangerous.
Daniel said, “The organization got bigger than you realize.”
“It belongs to me.”
“No.”
Daniel turned.
“You built it. That's different.”
Luciano's expression went cold.
Daniel continued.
“You wanted clean businesses. Construction. Restaurants. Shipping. Real estate. You wanted politicians who could be bought without blood. You wanted everything quiet.”
“And?”
“Quiet doesn't pay the way it used to.”
Luciano understood.
“Drugs.”
Daniel said nothing.
Luciano stepped closer.
“I banned narcotics twenty years ago.”
“You banned them from your side.”
“My side?”
Daniel smiled bitterly.
“You think men like Marco stayed loyal because you gave speeches about rules?”
Luciano felt anger rise.
He pushed it down.
Anger made men predictable.
“What did Anthony find?”
Daniel looked away.
“Nothing that mattered.”
“He died.”
“That wasn't supposed to happen.”
Luciano froze.
Daniel realized what he had said.
Too late.
“Who killed him?”
“I didn't order it.”
“Who?”
“Luciano—”
“Who killed Anthony Russo?”
Daniel's voice lowered.
“Marco handled it.”
The restaurant beyond the walls seemed to vanish.
Luciano thought of Elena.
Her trembling fingers.
Her father's photograph.
The silent signal.
“You knew.”
“I knew afterward.”
“And you covered it.”
“I protected us.”
“No. You protected yourself.”
Daniel slammed his palm against the table.
“You weren't there!”
Luciano did not move.
Daniel lowered his voice again.
“Anthony copied records. Everything. Payments. Routes. Names. Judges. Police. Customs agents.”
“Drug routes.”
“Among other things.”
“How long?”
Daniel did not answer.
“How long, Daniel?”
“Eleven years.”
The exact amount of time since Anthony Russo had resigned.
Luciano finally understood.
Anthony had discovered the secret network.
He had not left because he wanted a new life.
He had left because he was afraid.
“You used my companies.”
“We used the infrastructure.”
“You forged my signature.”
“To keep everyone in line.”
Luciano's eyes narrowed.
“Everyone believed the orders came from me.”
Daniel said nothing.
Luciano felt something worse than anger.
Recognition.
Daniel had used Luciano's reputation as currency.
Men obeyed because they believed Luciano had commanded them.
People had been threatened.
Bribed.
Possibly killed.
All under his name.
“How many people died?”
Daniel looked toward the floor.
“That isn't a useful question.”
“It is tonight.”
“Some.”
“How many?”
“I don't know.”
“You know.”
Daniel met his eyes.
“Twelve.”
Luciano absorbed the number.
Twelve.
Anthony Russo had been one.
There were eleven others.
“Names.”
“I don't remember.”
“You remember every one.”
Daniel laughed without humor.
“Why does it matter now? You're not innocent.”
Luciano didn't flinch.
“I never claimed to be.”
“You killed men.”
“Yes.”
“You ordered beatings.”
“Yes.”
“You destroyed lives.”
“Yes.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“Then don't suddenly pretend Anthony Russo made you find a conscience.”
Luciano's voice dropped.
“This isn't about conscience.”
“Then what?”
“Control.”
Daniel looked confused.
Luciano continued.
“You used my name to build something I never authorized.”
“Because you were getting old.”
The words stayed between them.
Daniel seemed almost relieved to finally say them.
“You started talking about retirement. Foundations. Hospitals. Scholarships. Like money washes anything clean.”
Luciano watched him.
Daniel went on.
“Marco understood. So did the others.”
“How many others?”
Daniel smiled.
Too late again.
Luciano had not known there were others.
Now he did.
“How many?”
Daniel picked up his glass.
“You can't stop this.”
Luciano said, “Watch me.”
Daniel laughed.
“You don't even know who you're fighting.”
Luciano's phone vibrated.
He did not check it.
Daniel's eyes dropped briefly toward his pocket.
Luciano noticed.
Another vibration.
Then another.
Something was happening.
Luciano backed toward the door.
Daniel said, “If you walk out there and make this a war, people you care about will die.”
Luciano opened the door.
Marco was gone.
So was Elena.
Luciano scanned the restaurant.
Her apron lay on the floor beside the service station.
One chair had been knocked sideways.
Luciano pulled out his phone.
Three messages from Sofia.
CALL ME.
LUCIANO, ANSWER.
Then the third:
Someone tried to break into my apartment.
A fourth message appeared.
It was from Elena's number.
No words.
Only a photograph.
Elena was sitting in the back seat of a car.
May you like
Marco sat beside her.
And behind them, through the rear window, Luciano could see the entrance to Sofia's building.
