Viper - Michael Morley [11]
‘Have you learned nothing from the last time I had to punish you? Are you now stupid as well as fat and ugly?’
Gina’s pain was deep and dull. The blow ached all the way through to her spine. She struggled to breathe.
Valsi sat down and leaned over her. ‘Your father has just promoted me, made me Capo Zona. He’s done that because he fears me and respects me. Now is the time for you to be a good daughter and wife and respect him and fear me as well. Because if you cause any problems between us, if you become a scissionista, then you could end up getting both yourself and your father killed. You understand what I mean, don’t you?’
Gina Valsi fully understood. Scissione was the Neapolitan term for a split within a Family, a scissored division, brought about by scissionisti. Faida was the result – internecine warfare – usually bloody, brutal and relentless.
You can’t be foolish, Gina. Don’t create a bloodbath. This outburst is understandable. Bruno is adjusting to life outside prison. Don’t make too much of it. Imagine how difficult all this must be for him.
Bruno could see her thinking things over. He brushed hair from her face and spoke more gently. ‘If you are asked, you will tell your father, your family and our friends, that we have the model marriage, and that I am the perfect loving husband and father. And I will tell everyone what a wonderful wife and mother you are. This is a marriage of convenience. Nonetheless it is a marriage, and marriage must be forever. Have I made myself clear?’
Gina Valsi nodded. She didn’t want to be beaten again. She’d learned the hard way that Bruno would hurt her in places where the bruises would never show. And there was another thing she knew. For some mad, crazy reason, deep down she still loved him, and probably always would.
8
New York City
Shiny’s restaurant was famous for its truffle-flavoured sturgeon and Kumamoto oyster and quail egg shooters. And those were the main reasons Jack had picked it for his rendezvous with Luciano Creed. His restaurant-owning wife had given him strict instructions to sample as much as possible and come away with both lunch and dinner menus. ‘Steal them if you have to!’ she joked as she kissed him goodbye. ‘And if you can get tips from the chef on how he makes the shooters, then tonight I’ll put a smile on your face wider than the Hudson.’
It was smack on one o’clock when Creed walked through the door. He stamped snow on the doormat. Jack – always early for meetings – sipped still water without ice and watched him squint around the room before spotting him.
‘Hi, I didn’t see you at first,’ said Creed enthusiastically, as he settled into a chair and put a plastic folder on the tabletop.
‘Buon giorno, come stai ?’ said Jack amiably, noticing Creed wasn’t only wearing exactly the same clothes as the day before, but he smelled as though he’d been in them for the past year.
‘Aah, parli Italiano?’
Jack laughed and raised a defensive hand. ‘I understand quite a lot, but I’m not so hot on the chat. All those irregular verbs and rule exceptions, they finally saw off my patience.’
‘So you don’t help out in your wife’s restaurant – in San Quirico, isn’t it?’
Jack’s warmness faded. It was no secret that the former FBI man and his family had taken on the restaur ant, but it certainly wasn’t a big or famous hotel, so Creed must have been doing personal research. ‘Yes, it is. But how do you know about it?’
‘Like I said yesterday, I have come to New York to see you at the conference, and for you to look at this case.’ He tapped the plastic document folder in front of him. ‘So I do my research on you. I use Google, and I look at your website. And I see lots about you, then I use the MSN and the Yahoo and the Lycos and –’
‘I get the picture,’ said Jack, growing bored. ‘Shall we look at the menu and order?’
‘I take the spicy crab as an appetizer and the robata – the skewered