Viper - Michael Morley [14]
‘Glamour aplenty.’
‘Indeed. There are also some run-down businesses that need attention, particularly camping and holiday-villa sites. They are spread between Naples and Herculaneum, and Herculaneum and Pompeii.’
‘My favourite place as a child,’ said Valsi. ‘I know so much about Pompeii that I could get a job there as a tour guide.’
‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,’ the Don smiled. ‘It’s a good time for you to take over these businesses. Pepe Capucci was going soft. We need to squeeze the margins, generate some more cash. If Pepe hadn’t given himself a heart attack I’m sure, in the end, he would have given me one.’ The old man put his hand on Valsi’s arm. ‘But squeeze gently. Do it with charm, Bruno. Our Family are not known as bullies. We provide jobs and incomes in many parts of our district. I want to keep respect and goodwill.’
‘I understand,’ said Valsi.
Don Fredo dipped into his jacket and produced a small, slim brown envelope. ‘There is something in there to get you on your feet again.’
Valsi looked surprised. ‘You were very generous when I was in prison. I know Gina is your daughter as well as my wife, but we were more than well provided for.’
‘Bruno, please don’t insult me by questioning my gift.’
Valsi took the hint. He used a table knife to slit the envelope.
‘You will find something more than money in there,’ added the old man.
Valsi pulled out four undated cheques totalling €200,000. He quickly did some calculations. On top of the monthly wages of €5,000 that he’d received while in jail, he’d now pocketed a total of half a million for his five years inside.
Loyalty money. Money to buy you. To curb your ambition. ‘You are most kind,’ he said, nodding politely as he folded away the cheques.
‘You missed something.’ Don Fredo spoke over the cup as he sipped his espresso. ‘I think you will find another enclosure in there.’
Valsi tipped the envelope and shook it. A slip of paper fluttered on to the table. On it was a name that was painfully familiar to him. And an address that he’d been long searching for.
Finelli dabbed his lips with a white linen napkin. ‘It can be done quickly. Salvatore has the men ready and waiting for you. I’m sure you’ll feel much better when it’s over.’
10
I Quartieri Spagnoli, Napoli
One-week-old Alicia Madonna Galotti screamed at the top of her tiny lungs as new aunt, Alberta, took her from her mother and gently rocked her.
The 38-year-old shushed her sister’s baby, then raised the tiny head in the palm of her left hand and lovingly kissed it. Babies smelled so good. Well, at least they did when they’d just been washed and powdered. The child’s skin was wonderfully wrinkled. As soft and warm as velvet. She had pale hazelnut eyes, the colour of the teddy bear that Alberta Tortoricci had brought her, along with three irresistible dresses and a gel teething ring. Alberta stroked a fuzz of jet-black hair that would one day cascade through the hands of besotted boys who would pledge their lives to her. Or, at least, that’s what Alberta hoped as she sat in her sister’s lounge. During the five years she’d been in the witness protection programme, set up for her since Bruno Valsi’s conviction, she’d only visited once. Such isolation made her feel like she’d been punished for her bravery. Alberta had been a junior partner in one of the city’s oldest accounting and auditing firms. She’d made the near fatal mistake of turning to the police when her bosses had refused to explain, or let her correct, a series of worrying entries in the books of several Finelli businesses. Her diligence had put her at risk and, on one occasion, brought her face-to-face with Valsi. Playing with a cut-throat razor in his hand, he’d told her that there was no point her having a good head for figures if he had to hack it off and feed it to a pen of pigs.
‘I think Mamma should have you back, my darling.’ Alberta surrendered the still crying child to Pia.
‘She’ll get used to