Omerta - Mario Puzo [112]
Along with all her other qualities, Georgette Cilke was a very organized woman. Each Tuesday afternoon she volunteered exactly two hours of her time at the national headquarters of the Campaign Against the Death Penalty, where she helped answer the phone and reviewed pleas from lawyers of prisoners on death row. So Nicole knew exactly where to deliver her second important message of the day.
When Georgette saw Nicole walk into the office, her face brightened. She rose to embrace her friend. “Thank goodness,” she said. “Today has been dreadful. I’m glad you’re here. I can use the moral support.”
“I don’t know how much help I’m going to be,” Nicole said. “I’ve got something troubling that I have to discuss with you.”
In the years they had worked together, Nicole had never confided in Georgette before, though they maintained a warm professional relationship. Georgette never discussed her husband’s work with anyone. And Nicole never saw the point in talking about her lovers with married women, who always thought they had to offer advice on how to get a man to the altar, which was not what she wanted. Nicole preferred talking about the raw sex, but she noticed that this made most married women uncomfortable. Maybe, Nicole thought, they didn’t like hearing about what they were missing.
Georgette asked Nicole whether she wanted to talk in private, and when Nicole nodded, they found a small empty office down the hall.
“I’ve never discussed this with anyone,” Nicole began. “But you must know that my father was Raymond Aprile—the one known as Don Aprile. Have you heard of him?”
Georgette stood up and said, “I don’t think I should be having this conversation with you—”
“Please sit down,” Nicole interrupted. “You need to hear this.”
Georgette looked uncomfortable but did as Nicole asked. In truth, she had always been curious about Nicole’s family but knew she couldn’t bring it up. Like many others, Georgette assumed Nicole, through her pro bono work, was trying to make up for the sins of her father. How frightening childhood must have been for Nicole, growing up in the shadow of criminals. And how embarrassing. Georgette thought of their own daughter, who was embarrassed to be seen with either of her parents in public. She wondered how Nicole had survived those years.
Nicole knew Georgette would never betray her husband in any way, but she also knew Georgette was a compassionate woman with an open mind. Someone who spent her free time as an advocate for convicted murderers. Now Nicole looked at her with a steady gaze and said, “My father was killed by men who have a close relationship with your husband. And my brothers and I have proof that your husband accepted bribes from these men.”
Georgette’s first reaction was shock, then disbelief. She said nothing. But it was only seconds before she felt the first clear flush of anger. “How dare you,” she whispered. She looked Nicole squarely in eyes. “My husband would rather die than break the law.”
Nicole was surprised by the intensity of Georgette’s response. She could see now that Georgette truly believed in her husband. Nicole continued: “Your husband is not the man he seems to be. And I know how you feel. I just read my father’s FBI file, but as much as I love him, I know he kept secrets from me. Just as Kurt is keeping secrets from you.”
Then Nicole told Georgette about the million dollars Portella had wired into Cilke’s bank account and about Portella’s dealings with drug kingpins and hit men, who could only do their work with the tacit blessing of her husband. “I don’t expect you to believe me,” Nicole said. “All I hope is that you’ll ask your husband whether I’m telling you