Page 26 of Sweet Prison
Problems at the casinos? The last time I managed to sneak into Dad’s office and rifle through the paperwork on his desk was two weeks ago, but I didn’t find anything suspicious. There were a few warehouse leases and some brochures for the new condominium block that was just built on the outskirts of Cambridge. That was all.
I’ll have to find a way to get inside again and check the documents he keeps in his safe for anything that may shed light on what’s going on before I write to Massimo.
***
One week later
Private property, Thirty miles north of Boston
Nuncio Veronese’s birthday party
Laughter and clapping ring out behind me as I rush across the lawn. Dad has obviously started his speech. He usually cracks a few jokes first to warm up the crowd, and then he moves on to flattering the members of the Family. I’d hoped to catch plenty of useful gossip tonight, but Nera stuck by my side all evening, and I didn’t get the chance. Dad will be livid when he hears I left his birthday party early, but I don’t care. I need to get out of here now after hearing what happened to my sister three days ago.
“Miss Veronese?” Peppe asks when I find him hanging out with the other drivers in a lounge off the attached garage.
“Home, please.”
During the past week, I’ve made several attempts to sneak into Dad’s office, but the door was locked every time. The only other way in is through a window that faces the backyard. Dadleaves it ajar sometimes. With all the staff and security guards who typically buzz around the house, I couldn’t risk breaking in. Today, all our household personnel were brought to this country estate to help with the party.
I had already written to Massimo this morning, telling him about the bloodbath that decimated Camorra. On Friday, the head of the clan—Alvino—along with half of his crew, had been found dead at an out-of-the-way church outside of Boston. I heard Dad telling Nera about it yesterday when he called her. Then, he spent a good part of the afternoon shut inside his office and on the phone with Efisio, the guy taking over the Camorra Clan.
Dad’s concern over the Camorra news didn’t seem that strange at first—any major skirmish inside our territory would be worrisome. Still, I tried everything I could to overhear what they were talking about, but the conversation was much too muted. I figured I’d get a chance to discover the details later, since Cosa Nostra never deals with Camorra, it was likely nothing more than the usual top-dog posturing. Now, though, after finding out Nera was kidnapped by Alvino and that’s what led to the carnage at that church, I’m convinced there has to be more to whatever Dad and Efisio were discussing. And there must be a clue or a paper trail hidden in his study.
Something tells me that this situation is critical, so I need to relay every piece of information I can find to Massimo right away. Maybe Salvo has a faster way to contact him? Last I saw, Salvo was in a group with the other capos. With the party in full swing, I might be able to get him alone, but I don’t want to turn around and lose the opportunity to sneak into Dad’s office. Maybe I could risk calling Salvo? I reach into my purse to grab my phone, but then remember that I left it at home.Fuck.
***
The small display screen above the keypad hidden behind the Monet painting flashes red.
Dad changed the combination on the safe.
I stick my thumb between my teeth, biting my nail. The locked study doors. Changed access code. Dad must have suspected someone inside the house would find out what he’s been up to, maybe even been paranoid that whatever it is would reach Massimo. Would he have suspected me? Yeah, as ifpoor little Zarawould ever be capable of doing something so daring. He probably thinks it’s a maid or one of the security guards.
I try the digits of the previous combination but in reverse order.
Red light again, damn it.
He must have chosen a number that’s important to him, but what could it be? Dad loves birthdays. Maybe he used one of ours? It sure as hell wouldn’t be mine. Nera’s?
I try it. Nope.
What about his own?
No. Just the mocking flash of red.
“Shit.”
I rummage through his desk, moving notes and folders in hopes that he wrote the code down somewhere, but come up blank. A thought strikes me just as I’m ready to give up.La Famiglia. It has always been the most important thing to my father. Turning back toward the safe, I enter the date my father took his vows as the new don.
With a barely audible click, the safe door slowly slides open. An unhappy laugh escapes me. It is my birthday after all. My father became the don of Boston on my first birthday.
I’ve just started leafing through the folders I pulled from the safe when the rumble of a car engine and the squeal of tires come through the window. What the hell? Everyone should still be at the party. It was planned to last well into the night. Quickly, I snap the safe closed and run out of the study just as the front door on the other side of the entry hall flies open.
“Nera?” I choke out.
My sister hovers on the threshold, her makeup smeared all over her face. Her dress is wrinkled, with a big red stain covering the front.
“Nera!” Crying out, I rush across the hall to her.