Omerta - Mario Puzo [104]
“What about this guy Tulippa?” Boxton asked. “He can leave the country anytime.”
“Tulippa is touring the country giving speeches for drug legalization and also collecting his blackmail payment from big companies.”
“Can’t we nail him on that?” Sestak asked.
“No, Sestak,” Cilke said. “He has an insurance company and sells them insurance. We might be able to make a case, but the businesspeople oppose it. They’ve solved the safety problem of their personnel in South America. And Portella has no place to go.”
Sestak grinned at him coldly. “What are the rules of engagement here?”
Cilke said smoothly, “The director ordered no more massacres, but protect yourself. Especially against Astorre.”
“In other words, we can leave Astorre for dead,” Sestak said.
Cilke seemed lost in thought for a moment. “If necessary,” he replied.
It was only a week later that the federal auditors swarmed over the Aprile bank records and Cilke came personally to see Mr. Pryor in his office.
Cilke shook his hand and then said genially, “I always like to meet personally with people I may have to send to prison. Now, can you help us in any way and get off the train before it’s too late?”
Mr. Pryor looked at the young man with a benevolent concern. “Really?” he said. “You are completely on the wrong track, I assure you. I run these banks impeccably according to national and international law.”
“Well, I just wanted you to know that I’m tracking down your background and everyone else’s,” Cilke said. “And I hope you are all clean. Especially the Sturzo brothers.”
Mr. Pryor smiled at him. “We are immaculate.”
After Cilke left, Mr. Pryor leaned back in his chair. The situation was becoming alarming. What if they tracked down Rosie? He sighed. What a shame. He would have to do something about her.
When Cilke notified Nicole that he wanted her and Astorre in his office the next day, he still did not have a true understanding of Astorre’s character, nor did he wish to. He just felt the contempt he had for anyone who broke the law. He did not understand the resolve of a true Mafioso.
Astorre believed in the old tradition. His followers loved him not only because of his charisma but because he valued honor above all.
A true Mafioso was strong enough in his will to avenge any insult to his person or his cosca. He could never submit to the will of another person or government agency. And in this lay his power. His own will was paramount; justice was what he decreed justice must be. His saving of Cilke and his family was a flaw in his character. Still, he went with Nicole to Cilke’s office vaguely expecting some thanks, a relaxation of Cilke’s hostility.
It was evident that careful arrangements had been made to receive them. Two security men searched Astorre and Nicole before they entered Cilke’s office. Cilke himself stood behind his desk and glared at them. Without any sign of friendliness he gestured them to sit down. One of the guards locked them all in and waited outside the door.
“Is this being recorded?” Nicole asked.
“Yes,” Cilke said. “Audio and video. I don’t want any misunderstanding about this meeting.” He paused for a moment. “I want you to understand that nothing has changed. I consider you a piece of scum I won’t allow to live in this country. I don’t buy this Don bullshit. I don’t buy your story about the informant. I think you engineered this with him and then betrayed your conspirator to gain more lenient treatment from me. I despise such trickery.”
Astorre was astonished that Cilke had penetrated so near to the truth. He looked at him with new respect. And yet his feelings were hurt. The man had no gratitude, no respect for a man who had saved