BELLA MAFIA (53 page)

At the dot of two o'clock a black Mercedes-Benz turned in at the driveway, followed by a Jaguar. Teresa hurried to the door and called to the women that their visitors were about to arrive.

Luka studied the men in the cars. "You've got one of the
consigliere,
don't know the other guy with him. They've got two bodyguards. Yeah, they're carrying . . . Oh, yeah, nice one! They've got the new twenty-two. I can see one tucked into the guy's belt. It's a real assassin's weapon; with the silencer it's almost soundless."

Teresa's nerves were already on edge. "Who's this
consigliere?
Do you know him?"

"Well, you're not important enough to get the top men or Leggio's underboss even. The
consigliere
is the counselor, like a lawyer, oversees all the contracts."

"Can we trust him?"

"Yeah, they've just sent him to deal. His name is Carmine something or other. They always move around with armed bodyguards. . . . Rocco's in the Jag, alone. I'll get up to the roof to see if they've got anyone on foot. You'd better go downstairs to greet them."

Teresa was shaking with nerves. The women, as Luka had warned, were stepping into a snake pit more dangerous than they could have dreamed.

The two cars stopped in front of the villa. The men in the Mercedes remained seated until Rocco got out and opened the door for them. The
consigliere
and his companion looked like respectable bankers, white-haired, in dark suits, somber ties, and whiter-than-white shirts.

Luka eased open the window of the bedroom above the porch and crawled on his belly toward the edge of the roof.

"Stay with the cars?" an incredulous voice asked below.

Luka peered over as Rocco turned away, hands on hips. "Stay with the cars? Me?"

"Yeah, you : . ."

"How long do you want me to wait? I've got business to see to. I've got a property deal goin' down. You want a carhop, get one of the guys to do it."

No one replied, and the four men disappeared under the porch. Rocco stared after them, his face tight with anger. He called, "I can't wait long. I don't want to lose this deal—"

Luka heard the doorbell ringing and pulled back, afraid Rocco would spot him.

Adina ushered the men toward the dining room. The two bodyguards remained in the hallway, standing like sentries, arms folded, as Adina came out and went to the study door and tapped.

"Signora, your guests are here."

Adina returned to the kitchen, head down, afraid even to look in the direction of the bodyguards.

The women filed in, led by Graziella, who took her husband's position at the head of the table. She alone was veiled; the others, bejeweled and sophisticated, formed a line beside her to greet their visitors. Graziella's hands were shaking as she tried desperately to remember all her instructions. Teresa gave her a brief nod to begin.

"Please allow me to present my daughters . . . Sophia Luciano, widow of Constantino, mother of Nunzio and Carlo . . . Teresa Luciano, widow of Filippo. Her daughter Rosa, who lost Emilio Luciano, her fianc6. I am Don Roberto Luciano's widow, Graziella Rosanna di Carlo Luciano."

Unexpectedly Graziella continued. "I am sorry that Don Camilla could not be present himself. He must be unwell. Please give him our condolences. And you are?"

Teresa was impressed. Graziella was majestic. When the two men introduced themselves, she stretched out her hand to

be kissed. Then Teresa seated them around the table and took

over the meeting. She spoke deferentially, her head slightly bowed.

"Signore, I thank you for coming. For all of us, I would like to say how very much we appreciate Don Camilla's most generous offer. We will vacate the villa by the end of this month and hope that our request for an extra three weeks will not inconvenience Don Camilla. We are unable to leave before because the apartment we have purchased here in Palermo is being refurbished. We wish the Corleones well. May they have a full and happy life here at the Villa Rivera."

"Grazie
, signora
, grazie ..."

Luka was about to climb back into the house when Rocco's car phone rang. Luka inched back to listen.

Rocco snapped instructions into the phone, said he would be there as soon as he could. He then wandered toward the fence by the kitchen garden, looked around, and walked back to his car. He got in, started the engine, and reversed the Jaguar toward the lane that led to the rear of the house.

Luka climbed back into the house and moved quickly down to the first-floor landing. He pulled up short when he saw the two bodyguards in the hall. There was no way past them without being seen, so he backtracked to the floor above, to Teresa's room, which overlooked the garages. Rocco was just climbing out of his car. Luka was not sure what to do; if Rocco entered the garage, he would see the packing cases and the women's luggage in the cars, ready for their departure. Yet at this very moment the women were pretending that they were going to remain at the villa for another three weeks.

Teresa smiled as she passed over the deeds to the villa, and both men nodded and smiled in return, presuming that she was agreeing to the completion of the sale of the entire Luciano holdings. Their faces fell as Teresa said, "We also take this opportunity to refuse our dear friend Don Camilla's offer for the Luciano companies. We will leave all the financial arrangements for the sale of the villa and its contents to our lawyers, who have worked so well on our behalf during this tragic time. If you wish to speak with them, they await your instructions."

"Signora, did you understand Don Camilla's offer?"

"Oh, yes," Teresa answered. "Signor Rocco made it most clear, but after discussing it with the lawyers and with Don Scarpattio and Don Goya, whose families run the north side of the docks and so were exceptionally interested in our waterfront sections, we were persuaded by Don Emilio Dario and Don Bartolli that they, too, would be prepared to purchase sections, and all four families might perhaps form a group buyout. This would give each family access to our waterfront and bays, plus our cargo vessels at present in dry dock, and, of course, we would agree to sell the cold storage and the warehouses with the package. Since the factories are not at present productive, they, too, would make valuable storage areas. As for the vineyards and groves, though they are sadly destroyed by drought and neglect, we have been assured they could be productive again in two years.

"According to our lawyers, the contract for the sale of the villa does not include these properties. You must understand, we are just four women who have no interest in the complexities of the business and have simply placed everything in the hands of our lawyers. Considering the subsequent offers from America, you will understand our confusion and accept our apologies for the delay. Until we are told by our legal representative to accept Don Camilla's offer, we must sadly decline at this stage to sign any documents. Thank you again, and please give our most respectful good wishes to Don Camilla. We hope he will pay us a visit before we leave. If you wish to discuss the matter again, we will be here. I would also like to take this opportunity to thank your associate Giuseppe Rocco, who was kind enough to suggest that we approach the other families. As I have said, we are dependent on the advice of others, having no business experience ourselves, and appreciate all the help and kindness that has been shown to us."

Teresa stepped away from the table and held out her hand to assist Graziella. Both men rose quickly as the women left the room, just as they had entered, together.

Rocco cupped his hands around his face and peered through the Rolls-Royce window, puzzled. He squeezed past the crates and went to the trunk of the car, opened it, and looked at all the suitcases. He read the label on one. Then, leaving the trunk open, he went farther toward the back of the garage and bent over a packing case. He read the neatly written shipping labels, with the date clearly visible.

He squeezed among the crates again, lifting his jacket so as not to snag it. Suddenly the heavy, electrically operated garage doors moved back into place. . . .

"Hey, what is this? What's going on?"

He had no cause for alarm; he didn't even attempt to run the last few feet toward the closing doors. Only when the stinking heavy blanket covered him did he start fighting, trying to free himself and reach his gun. He lost his balance, fell against one of the crates, and rolled to one side, frantic to get the blanket off his face.

The first blow hit the side of his head and dazed him, but he managed to stagger to his feet and pull the blanket off his head. The next blow thudded into his scalp. Still conscious, he sank slowly to his knees and moaned. The third blow, the shovel coming down blade first, almost decapitated him.

Luka panted, wheezing from the effort. The pain in his shoulder was excruciating; he was afraid he had reopened the freshly healed wound. He put the shovel down and bent over Rocco, knowing without checking his pulse that he was dead.

Adina closed the door behind the Corleone representatives, who paused only a moment when they realized that Rocco's car was missing, then drove off hurriedly. Rocco would have a lot to answer for when he turned up, especially for suggesting other people the women might sell to.

The men were silent, completely controlled; the minor setback would simply be dealt with. The widows would be forced to agree to the offer; it was no longer negotiable. But it never had been; that was just Don Camilla being courteous, a show of respect for the women. Now they would find out that they had been very foolish to abuse that respect.

A short time later the women were ready to leave and were doing a last-minute check on the rooms. Adina was tearful and hardly able to assimilate the directions Teresa gave her, over and over again. Between sniffs she stuttered the instructions: The lawyer was to be contacted and given the thick white envelope from the table; the keys were to be left at the real estate office of Giuseppe Rocco.

As Teresa pressed the button to operate the garage doors, she noticed Rocco's car parked outside. She paid little attention, just waited for the door to swing up and over.

She stepped forward and froze. Her shriek was so long in beginning that Luka had time to reach her side. He put his hand over her mouth.

"Shut up, Teresa, shut up! If I take my hand away, will you keep quiet?"

She nodded as best she could.

"Yes? I'm taking my hand away. . . ."

He removed his hand, and she whimpered with fear. She tried to move away; but he gripped her hand tightly, and she howled, kicked out at him, trying desperately to leave the garage. He pushed her roughly to one side and pressed the button to close the door.

She was so terrified that her teeth chattered in her head. He slapped her face, hard. "Listen to me, you have to keep quiet. I don't want Graziella frightened."

She pressed her back against the garage door. "Oh, God, let me out, please let me out."

Luka was covered in blood: his hands, his shirt, even his shoes and trousers.

Teresa turned away from the shrouded body, sick with revulsion.

"I had to do it," Luka explained. "He was opening the suitcases; he knew we were leaving. But they don't know he came back here. They drove off—"

"What—what are you going to do with him?"

Luka held up a filthy old blanket, the one he had used to throw over Rocco's head. "I'll wrap him in this. Help me, hurry, get me some rope or string to tie the ends."

The body looked like a mummy, bound at the neck and ankles. "Put him in the trunk of his car. After you leave, I'll drive it someplace and dump it."

Luka told Teresa to open the doors and made her help carry the body out to the Jaguar.

"I did what I had to do," he insisted. "There's no need for the others to know about it. Especially Graziella. If Rocco had reported back what he saw here, you'd never have got away and—maybe it'll work out for the best."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, they're not going to think a mere bunch of women did it, are they?"

Teresa's head nodded, but she was rigid with fear.

"Go into the house," he whispered.

Teresa backed away, never taking her eyes from Luka. She stammered, "What—what will you d-do with him?"

"I'll take care of everything. Now hurry, get back to the house."

Suddenly Teresa turned and ran toward a low wall. Hunching her shoulders, bending almost double, she began to retch.

Luka moved toward her. She raised her hands pleadingly.

"No, please, don't . . . Stay away from me, please."

She ran back to the house then and said nothing of what had occurred. Two hours later she left the villa with Rosa, without seeing Luka again.