Omerta - Mario Puzo [43]
“Fine, we can make the deal that way,” Rubio said.
Nicole said coolly, “But then of course you have to increase the premium. Can you handle that?”
Tulippa said, “No problem,” and gave her a dazzling smile.
Grazziella, his face concerned, his voice polite, asked, “And what about our dear friend Astorre Viola? Does he agree?”
Astorre gave an embarrassed laugh. “You know I’ve come to like the banking business. And Don Aprile made me promise I would never sell. I hate to go against my whole family here, but I have to say no. And I control a majority of voting stock.”
“But the Don’s children have an interest,” the consul general said. “They could sue in a court of law.”
Astorre laughed aloud.
Nicole said tightly, “We would never do that.”
Valerius smiled sourly, and Marcantonio seemed to find the idea hilarious.
Portella muttered, “The hell with this,” and started to rise to leave.
Astorre said in a voice of conciliation, “Be patient. I may get bored with being a banker. In a few months we can meet again.”
“Certainly,” Rubio said. “But we may not be able to hold the financial package together for that long. You may get a lower price.”
There was no shaking of hands when they parted.
After the Apriles left with Astorre, Michael Grazziella said to his colleagues, “He is just buying time. He will never sell.”
Tulippa sighed, “Such a simpatico man. We could become good friends. Maybe I should invite him to my plantation in Costa Rica. I could show him the best time of his life.”
The others laughed. Portella said coarsely, “He’s not going on a honeymoon with you, Inzio. I have to take care of him up here.”
“With better success than before, I hope,” Tulippa said.
“I underestimated him,” Portella said. “How could I tell? A guy who sings at weddings? I did the job on the Don right. No complaints there.”
The consul general, his handsome face beaming in appreciation, said, “A magnificent job, Timmona. We have every confidence in you. But this new job should be done as soon as possible.”
When they left the meeting, the Aprile family and Astorre went for a late supper to the Partinico restaurant, which had private dining rooms and was owned by an old friend of the Don’s.
“I think you all did very well,” Astorre told them. “You convinced them you were against me.”
“We are against you,” Val said.
“Why do we have to play this game?” Nicole said. “I really don’t like it.”
“These guys may be involved in your father’s death,” Astorre said. “I don’t want them to think they can get anyplace by hurting any of you.”
“And you’re confident you can handle anything they throw at you,” Marcantonio said.
“No, no,” Astorre protested. “But I can go into hiding without ruining my life. Hell, I’ll go to the Dakotas and they’ll never find me.” His smile was so broad and convincing that he would have fooled anyone but the children of Don Aprile. “Now,” he said. “Let me know if they contact any of you directly.”
“I’ve gotten a lot of calls from Detective Di Benedetto,” Valerius said.
Astorre was surprised. “What the hell is he calling you for?”
Valerius smiled at him. “When I was in field intelligence, we got what was labeled ‘What do you know’ calls. Somebody wanted to give you information or help in some deal. What they really wanted was information on how your investigation was doing. So Di Benedetto calls me as a courtesy to keep me up to date on his case. Then he pumps me for info on you, Astorre. He has a great interest in you.”
“That’s very flattering,” Astorre said with a grin. “He must have heard me sing someplace.”
“No chance,” Marcantonio said dryly. “Di Benedetto has been calling me too. He says he has an idea for a cop series. There’s always room for another cop show on TV, so I’ve been encouraging him. But the stuff he’s sent me is just bullshit. He’s not serious. He just wants to keep track of us.”
“Good,” Astorre said.
“Astorre, you want them to target you instead of us?” Nicole said. “Isn’t that too dangerous? That Grazziella guy gives me the creeps.”
“Oh, I know about him,” Astorre