Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [143]
“I hope Buonarotti goes away for the rest of his life,” I said, thinking about Elena as I rubbed my throat. It was three days since Buonarotti’s doppelgangster had grabbed me there. It didn’t hurt much anymore, but the bruises hadn’t faded yet.
“He will, for sure,” said Lucky. “Because he ain’t gonna live long.”
Max and I both looked at Lucky.
The old hit man shrugged. “He stood up—on the phone—for whacking made guys in two families. What did you think would happen?”
“But how?” I argued. “He’ll be in prison.”
“Guys are easy to whack in prison. Nowhere to hide.” Lucky shrugged. “And this guy has been cursed with certain death. Piece of cake.”
“True,” Max said thoughtfully. “Encountering a doppelgangster doomed the victim rather than empowering a particular killer. Anyone with murderous intent could have done what Don Michael did once the victim was cursed. But Don Michael happened to be the killer whom Father Gabriel chose to take into his confidence.”
“So even without the Corvinos and Gambellos after him now . . .” I said.
“He wouldn’t be long for this world, anyhow,” Lucky said. “With his personality? The very first guy who has to share a breakfast table with him in the joint will probably whack him.”
“Speaking of guys who aren’t long for this world,” I said, “what’s going to happen to Angelo Falcone? The papers said he disappeared as soon as the cops released him.”
“He sure did,” Lucky said. “And good riddance.”
“So the young man has left New York City?” Max asked.
“Yep. And probably even Angelo ain’t dumb enough ever to come back.”
We fell silent as Don Carmine Corvino and his wife left the church and walked past us. The flashily dressed mobster ignored Lucky. Behind him, though, Fast Sammy Salerno gave Lucky a little nod. Mikey Castrucci gave him the finger.
“What a putz,” Lucky muttered. “We’re at church.”
After Buonarotti’s arrest was announced, the Corvino family had accepted that the Gambellos weren’t responsible for Danny Dapezzo’s murder. There would be no mob war, they wouldn’t target Lucky for a hit, and Max and I were completely safe from them. Like the Gambellos, though, the Corvinos were casting hostile glances at the Buonarottis who were in attendance today. Don Michael’s organization, however, denied all knowledge of his recent activities. In any case, his high-profile arrest had weakened his crime family considerably, and the other families didn’t seem to consider the Buonarottis a serious threat now.
Stella Butera came out of the church, dressed all in black and wearing a dramatically veiled hat. She clasped Lucky’s hand and said he was looking well. She clasped my hand and asked if she’d see me at work tonight. I said yes. The restaurant had reopened two days ago. Although I couldn’t sing for a few more days, thanks to the doppelgangster’s brutal assault on my throat, I could certainly wait tables and earn money.
Jimmy Legs also paused on his way out of the church to greet us. Nelli recognized him and wagged her tail, and he patted her head. Ronnie Romano talked to Lucky for a few minutes, but he snubbed me; he still disapproved of my dating a cop.
“I’m not sure I’m still dating him,” I said gloomily to Lucky when he explained why Ronnie had refused to acknowledge my greeting.
Lucky said, “Oh, come on, I seen the way that guy looks at you, and how mad he gets when he thinks someone’s tryin’ to hurt you.”
“Then perhaps you also noticed how dangerously insane he thinks I am, and how fed up he gets with finding me involved in his investigations and with having to lie to his superiors to protect me?”
“You really think he’d dump you over a little thing like insanity and lying and concealing evidence and getting involved in . . . Uh, I mean . . .” Someone caught Lucky’s eye, and he looked relieved to have an excuse