“What are you two assholes doing at my door?” he asked.
Ernesto lived in the mansion most of the time. A lot of the top guys did, since it was so damn plush and comfortable. Ernesto had long ties in the mob, and a friendship with Arturo, but he wasn’t invincible.
Nobody was invincible when it came to stealing from the mafia.
“We’re just here to talk,” Vince said, “and to show you a little movie.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Movie?”
I raised the player. “That’s right.”
Ernesto looked at me. “I heard you were dead.”
“I was for a little bit, but I’m back. The Devil says hello.”
He laughed loudly, grinning hugely. “Okay, fine. Come in. Let’s make this fast.”
We followed him into his outer room. Ernesto’s suite was huge, really more of an apartment, and we entered into his outer sitting room. I knew he had rooms farther in, but most people didn’t get to see them.
I walked over to the television on a stand in the corner and began to hook up the player.
“What’s so important that you need to come show this to me unannounced?” he asked, clearly thrown off balance by our sudden appearance.
“It’s about one of your guys,” Vince said.
“Marco,” I added. “You know Marco, right?”
“Of course. He’s one of my best men.” Ernesto scowled at us. “What the fuck is on this tape?”
“You’ll see,” Vince answered, and crossed his arms. I got the machine set up and turned the television on.
Without further ado, I hit play.
Watching Ernesto’s face was one of the most satisfying experiences I had ever had in my life. He went from bored and annoyed to shocked to terrified to angry as fuck in the span of about thirty seconds.
He whirled on Vince, practically shaking with rage. “What the fuck is this?”
Vince looked at me.
“I found it just before the Spiders almost killed me,” I said. “I think it’s their way of stirring the pot.”
“It’s a fucking lie,” he spat, “a dirty fucking lie. My boys wouldn’t do that.”
“Wouldn’t they?” Vince shrugged. “Seems like they would, Ernesto.”
“You piece of shit.” He stepped up to Vince, who just smiled. In a fight, Ernesto was toast. I fingered my gun just in case. “You two cunts better leave.”
“Ernesto, please,” Vince said. “Don’t overreact here. Nobody is blaming you.”
“I hear the implications. I can see them.”
“Nobody is implying,” Vince said.
“I am,” I said.
Vince laughed. “Rafa, stop.”
“You piece of shit.” Ernesto stepped toward me, and I just smiled at him. “That bullet should have ended you.”
“It didn’t, so I’m here to take you by the balls and squeeze.”
“Play nice, Ernesto,” Vince said, “or else we’ll take this to Arturo.”
“Good. Show him. Show him what a cunt you are.”
“I’m being kind by coming to you first,” Vince said. “I’m giving you a chance to make this right.”
“Get out,” he roared. “Get out now.”
I ejected the tape and headed toward the door. Vince gave Ernesto one last look. “Reconsider this reaction and come see me soon.” He waved and then we left.
Out in the hall, Vince laughed, and I couldn’t help but laugh along with him. That had been such a ballsy move, a really fucking ballsy move. We had no real proof that any of what was on the tape was real, but I was betting by the way Ernesto had reacted that every single word was true.
“Now what?” I asked him.
“Now we wait for him to realize that he’s up shit creek and for him to try to paddle on back.”
I laughed, and we walked down the hall together. I felt elated and good for the first time in a long time, despite the pain in my leg.
27
Cassidy
I was nervous as I waited for Vince and Rafa to get back from confronting Ernesto.
I was out of my depth with all of this. I knew I didn’t really understand mafia politics, but I couldn’t help but feel nervous about all the moves Rafa was making. So far, he hadn’t been wrong, and he had kept me safe. I still found it hard to let go and let him take care of me like I knew he wanted to, though.
From what I could tell, being in the mafia was deceptively normal. They had offices and mansions and a beautiful compound right out in the open. I was sure they had other stores to act as fronts for their money laundering, but some of them probably made real money.
Underneath it all, though, was the threat of violence. It was impossible to ignore that lingering danger in everything that was happening, even in a normal conversation. Violence suffused everything and gave even the simplest of actions a deadly tint.