The Last Don - Mario Puzo [223]
Giorgio left his bodyguards outside the suite with Hotel Security. But Cross was under no illusions, his own bodyguards would follow any order Giorgio gave. And he was not reassured by Giorgio’s appearance. Giorgio seemed to have lost weight, and his face was very pale. It was the first time that Cross had seen him look as though he was not in complete control.
Cross greeted him effusively. “Giorgio,” he said, “this is an unexpected pleasure. Let me call down and get a Villa ready for you.”
Giorgio gave him a tired smile and said, “We can’t locate Dante.” He paused for a moment. “He’s gone off the map and the last time he was seen was here at the Xanadu.”
“Jesus,” Cross said, “that’s serious. But you know Dante, he was not always under control.”
Now Giorgio didn’t bother to smile. “He was with Jim Losey and Losey is gone too.”
“They were a funny combo,” Cross said. “I wondered about that.”
“They were pals,” Giorgio said. “The old man didn’t like it but Dante was the guy’s paymaster.”
“I’ll help any way I can,” Cross said. “I’ll check all the Hotel employees. But you know Dante and Losey weren’t officially registered. We never do that for anyone in the Villas.”
“You can do that when you get back,” Giorgio said. “The Don wants to see you personally. He even chartered a plane to bring you back.”
Cross paused for a long moment. “I’ll pack a bag,” he said. “Giorgio, is it serious?”
Giorgio looked him squarely in the face. “I don’t know,” he said.
On the chartered plane to New York, Giorgio studied a briefcase full of papers. Cross did not impose himself, though this was a bad sign. In any case Giorgio would never give him any information.
The plane was met by three closed cars and six Clericuzio soldiers. Giorgio got into one car and motioned Cross into another. Again a bad sign. Dawn was breaking when the cars rolled through the security gates of the Clericuzio compound in Quogue.
The door of the house was guarded by two men. Other men were scattered around the compound, but there were no women or children to be seen.
Cross said to Giorgio, “Where the hell is everybody, in Disneyland?” But Giorgio refused to acknowledge the joke.
The first thing Cross saw in the Quogue living room was a circle of eight men, and inside that circle two men were talking in a very amiable way. His heart gave a jump. They were Petie and Lia Vazzi. Vincent was watching them and he looked angry.
Petie and Lia seemed to be on the best of terms. But Lia was dressed only in slacks and a shirt, no jacket or tie. Lia usually dressed formally, so this meant he had been searched and disarmed. And indeed he looked like a cheerful mouse surrounded by merry, menacing cats. Lia gave Cross a sad nod of acknowledgment. Petie never glanced his way. But when Giorgio led Cross into the back den, Petie broke off and followed, as did Vincent.
There, Don Clericuzio was waiting for them. Seated in a huge armchair, he was smoking one of his crooked cigars. Vincent went to him and handed him a glass of wine from the bar. Cross was offered nothing. Petie remained at the door, standing. Giorgio sat down on the sofa next to the Don and motioned to Cross to sit with him.
The Don’s face, drawn thin with age, had no trace of emotion. Cross kissed him on the cheek. The Don looked at him and his face softened as if with sadness.
“So Croccifixio,” the Don said, “it was all cleverly done. But now you must explain your reasons. I am Dante’s grandfather, my daughter is his mother. The men here are his uncles. You must answer to all of us.”
Cross tried to keep his composure. “I don’t understand,” he said.
Giorgio said harshly, “Dante. Where is he?”
“Christ, how should I know?” Cross said as if surprised. “He never reported to me. He could be down in Mexico having a good time.”
Giorgio said, “You don’t understand. Don’t fuck around. You are already judged guilty. Where did you dump him?”
At the bar, Vincent turned away as though he could not look into his face. Behind him Cross