Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [68]
“No, indeed,” the priest agreed.
“But how did Elena wind up married to a Corvino after that?” I sat in a chair and gestured for the priest to do the same.
“She fell in love,” Father Gabriel said simply, taking a seat. “They met here, in fact. I gather she sought support and counsel from Father Stefano, who was the priest here back then. Father Stefano encouraged their love, believing that the union of a Gambello widow and Corvino soldier might end the constant and deadly violence between the two families.” Father Gabriel sighed. “He had a good heart and a strong faith, but he was naive about these matters.”
“It’s a real Romeo and Juliet story, isn’t it?”
“With an equally unhappy outcome.”
“When the Gambellos found out,” I guessed, “the sh . . . er, things hit the fan?”
“Elena married her Corvino lover in secret, then went alone to Don Victor’s home to confess the truth, to ask for his forgiveness and blessing. He was so enraged, he tried to kill her.”
I gasped, imagining the violence of that confrontation. The frail old man’s vitriol and fury, Elena’s fear and desperation, and the thugs who were probably just outside the door, prepared to carry out whatever heinous act their boss ordered.
Father Gabriel continued, “But even the don, who had committed so many acts of deadly violence before growing old and turning over the dirty work to his subordinates . . . Even he stopped short of murdering a woman. Just short. Elena says she had dark bruises on her throat for a week after that night.”
I put my hand up to my own throat, disturbed by the mental image of the Shy Don trying to kill his nephew’s remarried widow.
Father Gabriel shrugged. “There is some reluctance among wiseguys to murder a woman.”
“I guess that saved Elena’s life.”
He sighed. “Well, they didn’t kill Elena, but as far as the Gambellos were concerned, there was still unfinished business to settle. A Corvino had courted a Gambello widow. He had poached in sacred territory. In their code of honor, they couldn’t rest without making an example of him. So Lucky . . . Oh. Oh, dear.” He looked at me, evidently recalling that I hung out with Lucky. “Never mind.”
“So Lucky killed him?” I asked in shock. “For that?” I had assumed Lucky’s murder of Elena’s second husband was “business,” not something so personal, so vicious.
“Yes.”
“No wonder she hates Lucky so much,” I said, appalled.
“Yes,” Father Gabriel repeated.
I felt depressed. I was suddenly ashamed to think of Lucky as my friend, as someone I liked.
Lopez had been right, I was naive. I knew Lucky was a killer! Had I really supposed he’d had good reasons for murdering people?
“Of course, Elena remarried in time,” said Father Gabriel.
“Uh-huh,” I said, not really interested now, feeling sick as I thought about the deeds of a man I had described to Elena as my friend only a few minutes ago.
“To another Corvino.” The priest shrugged. “Perhaps she was lonely. Or perhaps staying within a powerful family made her feel safer. But, of course, Eddie Giacalona was killed, too. About two years ago.”
“By Lucky?”
“No. By another Corvino.”
I looked at Father Gabriel in surprise. “They killed one of their own?”
“For betraying the family.” He snorted and added, “Not all bosses are as sentimental as the Shy Don.”
“So Elena must hate the Corvinos almost as much as she hates the Gambellos.”
“It’s an obsession with her.” He looked even sadder. “She comes here to pray twice a day, almost every day. But her heart has not yet felt God’s infinite love and forgiveness.”
“That’s hardly surprising, is it?” I said.
He suddenly changed his tone and the subject. “But listen to me, gossiping about all this water under the bridge. We still haven’t found your wrap, have we? We should look in the lost and found. If you spoke to Mrs. Campanello—that’s who was in the office today—she probably came down, found it, and put it there. Why didn’t I think of that before? You stay here, Esther, I’ll go look.”
He was gone only