Viper - Michael Morley [8]
Finelli patted down the applause. ‘In recognition of his loyalty to all of us, I am pleased to announce that Bruno Valsi is now elevated to the rank of Capo Zona.’
Again the applause rang out, harder and warmer. But Valsi could see coldness in the eyes of a few of the older soldiers. Being made Capo Zona meant you had a specific geographic region to exploit. You could raise money for the Family and take a healthy share for yourself. It also meant being given the chance to assemble your own crew, a sort of family within the Family, and this was what worried the older Camorristi.
Don Fredo was also watching. His expert eyes examined the other Capi: Angelico d’Arezzo, Giotto Fiorentino and Ambrogio Rotoletti. They were impassive. Their hearts and minds still needed winning. They were older, much older than Valsi, but they would give him a chance, albeit a small one. Finelli broke from his assessment and addressed them all: ‘Bruno Valsi will take over the Family’s eastern sector, the one richest in what we call our entertainment business. These are the responsibilities that were carried out by Pepe Capucci, before his heart attack last month. Bruno has been given the right to assemble his own crew and he has told me he will announce who they are within the next few days. So, my Uomini d’Onore, my dear gentlemen of honour, please raise your glasses and toast the successful future of my son-in-law, Bruno Valsi, this Family’s youngest ever Capo Zona.’
Chairs slid back, the men rose and held their glasses high. ‘Salute, Bruno!’
Don Fredo embraced Valsi again and then clapped him as the toast finished. As the smiling Capo returned to his seat, Don Fredo added one final footnote to his speech, something he hadn’t previously discussed with Valsi in the drive from Poggioreale jail. ‘Bruno, I have another gift for you; something to help you with your new business interests.’
Valsi’s smile slid away. In his line of business there was no such thing as a pleasant surprise.
Don Fredo extended his right arm and put his hand on the shoulder of Sal the Snake. ‘Salvatore, my personal friend and loyal Luogotenente, has generously volunteered to join you in your new business team. He will help you establish yourself. I know his special experience and skills will ensure everything goes according to both our plans.’
6
Carnegie Hall, New York City
Luciano Creed was still smiling when he slipped into the Starbucks next door to Carnegie Hall. Jack King had grudgingly relented and agreed to see him again. One more meeting – tomorrow, for one hour max – then they’d be done. Well, Creed was certain Jack wouldn’t be done so quickly. The Italian took a double espresso and sat in the window to drink it. He enjoyed staring out of the big glass pane, watching people flood by.
Not people, just women. Men were mere flotsam.
King had been right; you could never judge people from the measly ten per cent that they showed in public. It’s the ninety per cent of ourselves that we keep hidden that is most interesting.
Creed liked the idea of comparing himself to an iceberg. Cool. Surprising. Powerful. It summed him up perfectly. He ran King’s lecture over in his head. It had been worth travelling over for. Well worth meeting the great Jack King. What was it that he had said that had most impressed him?
Thought, Feeling, Action – the three things to concentrate on. Creed let the words swim in his head. He was acting like most everyone else in Star-bucks, just sitting there getting warm, hiding from the bitter blizzard blowing outside. But right now he was thinking about how you would abduct and kill a woman.
His eyes settled