BELLA MAFIA (32 page)

"To you all: Thank you for coming, and God bless you."

Graziella hardly touched her wine, but the other women toasted her and drank. The conversation was very stilted, each complimenting the others on their various styles while Adina served thick lobster bisque and hot rolls. They began to eat.

The furnace gave the room terrific heat. The loud clanging of the gunsmith smelting and reshaping the firing chamber made the waiting men wince. Luka watched every stage, asking eager questions. He even put on a huge protective mask so he could stand close to the man as he filed the metal.

The old man, nearing eighty, was a master craftsman, painfully slow and methodical. He took great pride in his work, holding it up for inspection at each stage. The bullets would have to be made, of course; the weapon was so old that none of the ammunition he had in stock would be suitable.

Luka inspected the drills and turned to Dante. "You want your teeth done while we wait?"

Dante looked at his watch. "How much longer?"

"Four or five hours," said the old man, and Dante swore.

"I am a professional, signor. I have to remake the firing pin, and then there will be adjustments. It's the length of the barrel, that's the problem."

"Just do what you have to, signor." Luka patted the man's shoulder encouragingly, then walked casually over to Dante. "When he's finished, maybe it's best he's not around."

Dante snorted, shaking his head. His voice was very low. "He's eighty years old, he won't talk, believe me."

Luka's eyes glittered. "I, too, am a professional, signor, and he's a fucking witness."

Luka turned back to the old man, whistling with admiration at his work.

Graziella waited until Adina had set down the coffee tray and left the room. She did not want to discuss the will until she was sure they would not be interrupted. She herself served the coffee from its silver pot.

"Two days ago there was a new development at court. The defense lawyers requested that the entire testimony of the accused be read aloud to the prisoners. If the government does not give the judge the power to deny them this right, then the prisoners will walk free."

Sophia refused sugar, passing it across to Rosa, all her attention on her mother-in-law.

"You mean he'll be freed?"

"Yes, Sophia, I mean exactly that. The justice we had hoped for will be nonexistent. Paul Carolla will be free."

Teresa said sharply, "But isn't he also \yanted for drug dealing in the States? This trial isn't just front-page headlines in Palermo; it's worldwide."

"The judge will have to get the government to overthrow the law, and you and I know how many in our precious government will be too afraid to do anything. . . . But that will be dealt with. First, I must apologize for this long delay. Now you're here, I think you will find much work has been done. I gave Mario the power of attorney."

Graziella opened a file, began picking out pages. "And at his suggestion we began to liquidate all the assets. As you are aware, because of my sons' deaths, I alone inherit the entire estate. The reason for the delay has been the joining of the three wills—"

Teresa sipped her wine. "About six months, Mama."

Graziella looked at Teresa coldly. "Mario Domino assumed that you would not want to handle the companies yourselves but would prefer to have the money. So we arranged that I would divide it equally among you."

Teresa interrupted her mother-in-law. "Wait a minute, Mama, liquidate all the assets? Are you serious? I mean, there was surely not enough time to arrange sales, auctions. . . . How much work did Domino do before he died?"

Graziella ignored Teresa and turned to Sophia. "Constantino, as you know, ran the export companies. Mario was in the middle of negotiations shortly before he died, and he accepted an offer below the original asking price, but from a good and reliable source. I have decided that as you, Sophia, were Constantino's wife, this should be handled by you, and I have therefore organized all those contracts for you to look over while you are here."

Teresa was at it again, not liking what she was hearing. "Does that include Filippo's company in New York, Mama?" But she received no reply as Graziella turned over pages in her file and passed a number of papers to Sophia.

As Teresa was about to interrupt again, Sophia looked up and waved her hand for silence. "Mama, these don't make any sense. These are warehouses?"

Teresa leaned forward. "Surely, Mama, Domino cannot have begun negotiations without conferring with us? Filippo's business depended upon the cargoes, and the company is at a standstill in New York. Who has been overseeing the trade during the past months? I tried to get into the offices myself, but they've changed the locks, so who has been handling that? Domino?"

"I left everything to Domino. He had great difficulty with the tax people. They said we owed death duties amounting to—" Graziella was flustered as she searched the file.

"Mama, is that Domino's file?" asked Teresa. She was sweating as she realized Graziella's total lack of understanding of the business. "Mama, why don't you let me sort through it all? I can go through them tonight. That used to be my job. I'll at least be able to get them into—"

Graziella almost shouted 'Wo! I want none of you involved in this. It must be sold. I want everything sold, nothing that can cause you trouble."

Teresa was trying to control her temper. "But, Mama, who is taking care of the legal side?"

"Mario Domino."

Sophia took her mother-in-law's hand. "Mama, Domino is dead. Now, why don't you let Teresa have a look at all this? Then we can discuss it tomorrow. Right now you can't say I have this and Teresa has that because we don't know what we have."

Teresa spoke up for herself. "Mama, I don't know Sophia's situation, but the past six months have been very tough for me and for Rosa. Filippo left nothing but debts—"

Graziella responded with pride, "No, that is not true! No Luciano ever has debts, this I know."

"You didn't know, Mama, but you do now because I am telling you. I paid off what I could, but right now they are probably taking our apartment. I need to know what actual money I am going to see, you know, hard cash. Because I, more than anyone else, know exactly what the turnover for the New York side was."

"You know nothing, you don't know, Teresa. . . . No, you don't."

"Yes, I doV
Teresa was shouting now. "Because I saw the contracts, all the licenses! I am taking these files, all of them, into the study. I am going to go through them, now, tonight, okay? When I've got a better idea of what's going on, why don't we talk about it? Anyone against this?"

Sophia put her hand on the top of the file and gave Teresa a warning look. "Is it all right, Mama, for Teresa to do this?" Graziella nodded, but Sophia could see a muscle twitching at the side of her mother-in-law's mouth. The atmosphere in the dining room was electric.

Teresa read the first page of the file, which listed part of Don Roberto's liquid assets. "Oh, my God, I don't believe it. I don't believe what I am reading. . . . Rosa, there's forty million dollars!"

Sophia saw the look on Graziella's face. As Teresa continued to read the papers, the two left the room.

Sophia followed Graziella across the hall and waited while she unlocked the study door. There were file boxes everywhere, and the desk was littered with folders and loose papers.

"Oh, my God, Mama, what's all this?"

Graziella shrugged helplessly. "After Mario's death, his firm took over. When I knew you were all arriving, I told them I wanted everything returned to me, including anything that wasn't complete. Some of these boxes contain Mario's own papers from his desk. It was impossible for me to go through everything."

Sophia just stood looking at the boxes. Graziella searched the top of the desk and then handed Sophia a sheaf of telexes. "I don't understand this. . . ."

Sophia lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and began to read the telexes. Eventually she looked up.

"Mama, I don't understand these either. . . ."

"And there's more." Graziella handed Sophia a folder bulging with loose papers.

Sophia and Graziella did not return for almost half an hour, but Teresa appeared not to notice the time or the fact that Sophia needed a brandy before she sat down at the table.

Teresa squinted up at her, pushing her glasses along the bridge of her nose. "There's forty million dollars in a Swiss account, lump sums that appear to be cash. Mama, do you have the account numbers because as far as I can calculate, there should be even more? It's unbelievable!"

Sophia sighed and took another sip of brandy. "Teresa, just listen to me, calm down. As far as I can make out, there's enough for us to live comfortably, if not in luxury."

Teresa laughed. "Oh, come on, what is comfort to you may be outright luxury to me and Rosa. There's forty million—"

"Just listen, Teresa. Where's Rosa?"

Rosa appeared at the door with a cup of coffee. "Here. Maybe we should have some champagne?"

Sophia gestured toward a chair. "Sit down, Rosa. There's nothing to celebrate. The main liquid assets have been swallowed up by taxes, and according to Domino, there's been a massive misappropriation of money by men connected with his own firm, high-ranking, trusted men who once worked for Papa—"

Teresa half smiled. "Well, with cash you can expect fingers in tills. I mean, what sums are you talking about? Five, fifteen thousand?"

Sophia lit a cigarette with visibly shaking hands. "There's no trace of the Swiss bank account. There are yards and yards of telexes. Domino was trying to—"

Teresa interrupted, looking dazed. "Wait . . . wait . . . The company, is that still ours? Oh, Jesus Christ, I am trying to take all this in. . . . Are you saying—Oh, this is unbelievable. Tell me again, say what you said to me again."

Graziella took over, calmer now. "The main company, Teresa, the import-export section, is dormant and has been since Don Roberto died. All the workers were paid off."

Teresa was on her feet. "Jesus Christ, I don't believe this!"

Rosa seemed to be in a world of her own, staring into space. Teresa put her head in her hands as Graziella continued. "Everything is up for sale: the warehouses, the factories, the docks, and the ships."

"Where are the ships? I mean, are they just sitting in the dock?"

Graziella's face tightened with anger, and she ignored the question. "The section of the dock we own outright will be auctioned, but because of the delay—"

"What caused this delay? Are you telling me there are warehouses full of cargoes just sitting there rotting? Who

decided to pay the men off, for God's sake?"

"I did," replied Graziella. "Please allow me to continue without interruption, Teresa. We have had to pay heavy fines and duties on shipments that were not delivered. There were thefts, the men were robbing us blind, we had to—"

"Well, what could you expect if nobody was in charge? This is—Don't you realize we should have been here months ago? Where are the records of the death duties? I mean, what sums are we talking about? Thousands? Millions?"

Graziella sipped her water and put the glass down. "I have already put the villa up for sale, all the land and orchards, the groves. The offers are substantial, and as I have told Sophia, there will be more than enough for you to return to your homes."

Teresa's voice was hoarse from trying to control herself. "Sophia, what did you mean by 'misappropriated'? Is that just a nice way of saying we have been ripped off, everything stolen from us while we sat over in the States
waiting like idiots?"

Graziella slapped the table with the flat of her hand. "Mario Domino did everything humanly possible. He and his company worked with the lawyers in America. He had to fight to—"

Teresa sprang to her feet. "He was an old man. What in God's name did he know? Jesus Christ, Mama, on one sheet of paper there's forty million in
cashl
Where the hell has it gone? You want me to believe this bullshit about misappropriation? It's
theft
! What I want to know is who in Domino's company is handling our affairs now? And how long has he been dead?"

Sophia looked questioningly at Graziella. "How long is it? A week? Ten days?"

Graziella fiddled with her beads. "Eight days. He was dead when I returned from Mondello."

Teresa looked from Sophia to Graziella. "Are you telling me that this happened in
eight days}
Who had access to our money, money that belonged by right to me, to my daughter, your granddaughter? Oh, Jesus God, I can't believe this! Do you think I want to go home and live, how did you say— in
comfort
? After what we have been through, comfort is not enough...."

Sophia held Graziella's hand. "Mama remembers, many weeks ago, Domino had three visitors. They came from America. Right now she can't recall their names, but Domino entrusted much of the estate to them."