There are a few cars outside the Spada mansion, a few people milling in the driveway, and I wonder if they’ve heard what happened or if they’re just waiting for Spada to come home. It appears to be the latter; a couple of Spada’s lieutenants meet me as I’m heading for the front door.
“Where’s Leo?” one of them asks. “Did the boss make bail?”
My mouth goes tight against my teeth. “Get inside. Get everybody else inside, too.”
The man doesn’t ask questions—he just does what I told him to. Good. That’s the way it should be. I get the house open and head for the conference room where we usually meet.
I barely have time to get my composure back before everybody I saw in the parking lot is heading into the conference room. It seems like the entire organization is there, but that’s just my nerves. It’s only about a dozen people, fifteen tops. Some are my guys; the rest are Spada’s inner circle. Thank God none of Sal’s men are here. Everyone looks disconcerted, confused. Maybe even a little scared.
“What’s going on?” This is Mitch, and he speaks a bit more sharply than I’d like. I’ll give him a break this time.
I lift a hand. “Everybody sit down and get quiet.”
They do so immediately, taking their places and falling silent in a matter of seconds. I take a deep breath. I’m finally starting to feel the adrenaline—delayed reaction from what happened on the police station steps. My hands are shaking. I clench my fists to make them stop.
“Spada’s dead.” No point beating around the bush. “Somebody shot him while Leo and I were escorting him out of the police station.”
I expect an outburst, people asking questions, demanding to know what happened. But no. Everyone’s dead silent, faces going pale, eyes wide.
“We didn’t see who it was, although I think we all know who’s most likely to have done something like this.” There are a few nods, and I see a couple of people lean over to the guy next to them and mouth, “De Luca.” Good. Everybody’s pretty much on the same page. Although what we’re going to do with Sal’s men, I don’t know. I really don’t want to have to eliminate all of them. If it comes to that, though…
“Right now, I’m acting boss, and that’ll stay the same until further notice. I’ve got Leo’s full endorsement.” At least I hope I do. He hasn’t done or said anything to make me think I don’t, though, and under the circumstances I need all the support I can muster. A glance across Spada’s inner circle—former inner circle—shows me several nods, nobody offering any hostile looks. Good. Hopefully I’ll be able to count on them. Because things aren’t likely to get any better any time soon. This is a huge blow to the organization, and it’s going to take some time and effort to ride it out.
“As far as—” I stop. Leo’s just opened the door. All heads turn to face him. He hasn’t changed clothes; Spada’s blood still decorates his shirt, his tie, and the underside of his chin. He looks wrecked.
“Paramedics declared him DOA,” he announces. “Angelino, you’ve got my full support.”
I nod. Good. I don’t know what I would have done if he’d come in and said he didn’t support me, especially after I said he did. I probably would have gone down in a hail of bullets.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “Now, we need everybody here. I don’t want anybody out of the loop. Everybody start making phone calls—it’ll be faster that way.”
There are nods around the table, and the whole group disperses, going to different corners of the room, some leaving the room altogether to find a quiet place to talk. I go to Spada’s office, Leo trailing me.
“You want me to call De Luca?” he asks.
“I want everybody here,” I tell him. “Do it.”
Not that I want De Luca anywhere near me. But he needs to be here if he’s going to continue to be part of this organization. If he can’t toe the line and accept the change in leadership then I need to know. Because I’m going to have to deal with him.
Leo heads into the hallway to make his phone calls while I sit behind Spada’s desk. I start to call one of the two or three of my own guys who aren’t here but stop halfway through the first number. I call Sarah instead.
“Hey,” she answers. “Everything okay?”
“Not really. Look…I don’t want to go into it right now, but I need to deal with some shit. Family business. I might not be home for a few hours.”
“Okay…” I can tell she wants to ask again what’s going on, but she doesn’t. Good girl. Still…