Chapter 6
Vittorio never told anyone where he went.
For three days, he disappeared from the Marconi estate.
When he returned, he was different.
Giulietta remembered.
She had been nine.
Her father came into her room before dawn and sat beside her bed.
He smelled like rain and smoke.
He held her hand for an hour without speaking.
The next morning, the war against DeLuca slowed.
Not ended.
Slowed.
At the time, Giulietta thought grief had softened him.
Now she wondered what he had seen.
“Did Dad find Mom?”
Cesare nodded.
“I believe so.”
“Believe?”
“He never admitted it.”
“You sent him.”
“Yes.”
“And he came back alone.”
“Yes.”
“Where was Margaret?”
“Gone.”
“Lucia?”
Cesare closed his eyes.
“Gone.”
Giulietta almost struck him.
Not because he deserved one blow.
Because one blow would have been too simple.
Instead she turned.
“Saint Helena.”
The brass key lay in her palm.
“Now.”
They left the hotel before sunrise.
The wedding guests had already been dismissed under a simple message: ceremony canceled, family matter.
No explanations.
Rumors would become their own war by noon.
Giulietta did not care.
Preston and Warren came under guard.
Not as prisoners.
As necessary witnesses.
Cesare objected.
Giulietta ignored him.
Lorenzo drove separately.
Saint Helena stood on Marconi land behind cypress trees.
The chapel had not held a service in twenty years.
Giulietta remembered her mother bringing her once.
Lucia had lit three candles.
One for the living.
One for the dead.
One, she told Giulietta, “for people we do not yet know which they are.”
The memory hurt now.
The brass key opened a narrow door behind the altar.
Stone steps descended.
The hidden room was small.
Not a vault.
Not an office.
A table.
Two chairs.
An old phonograph.
Several tapes.
A wall covered in photographs.
Lucia.
Margaret.
Cesare.
Vittorio.
Warren.
And a man Giulietta did not recognize.
Tall.
Dark-haired.
About forty in the photograph.
Standing beside Vittorio like family.
Warren saw him.
His face changed.
Giulietta noticed.
“Who?”
Warren looked away.
Preston stared.
“Dad.”
Warren whispered:
“Samuel Cross.”
Cesare went still.
Giulietta looked between them.
“Who was he?”
Cesare answered.
“Your father’s consigliere before me.”
Giulietta frowned.
“I never heard the name.”
“He disappeared before you were born.”
Warren laughed softly.
“Another convenient death.”
“Was he dead?”
Cesare said:
“Yes.”
Warren said:
“No.”
Silence.
Giulietta looked at Warren.
“Explain.”
“Samuel Cross became the best ghost in the city.”
“Why?”
“He served three families without belonging to any.”
“Marconi.”
“Hale.”
“DeLuca?”
Warren nodded.
Giulietta understood.
A man who could move lies between enemies.
The traitor Lucia feared.
Maybe.
She looked at the tapes.
Each had one word.
VITTORIO.
WARREN.
CESARE.
MARGARET.
SAMUEL.
Giulietta picked up Samuel’s.
The machine still worked.
Lucia’s voice emerged first.
“Samuel, stop lying.”
A man laughed.
Calm.
Educated.
“You married Vittorio Marconi and still think lies are the problem.”
Lucia:
“The war is yours.”
Samuel:
“Partly.”
Giulietta felt cold.
Lucia:
“Warren funds you.”
Samuel:
“Sometimes.”
“Vittorio protects you.”
“When useful.”
“Cesare doesn’t know.”
A pause.
Samuel:
“Cesare knows enough.”
Giulietta looked at her uncle.
He whispered:
“I never met Samuel.”
The tape continued.
Lucia:
“You are making them kill one another.”
Samuel laughed.
“No.”
“I tell angry men what they were waiting to hear.”
Warren looked toward the floor.
Giulietta listened.
Lucia:
“And Margaret?”
Samuel’s voice changed.
“She should have stayed Warren’s wife.”
Lucia:
“He beat her.”
Samuel:
“That made her useful.”
Preston closed his eyes.
His father remained still.
Lucia’s anger came through the old tape.
“You sound proud.”
Samuel answered:
“I sound accurate.”
Then:
“Your husband is the most useful of all.”
Giulietta’s jaw tightened.
Lucia asked:
“Why?”
Samuel answered:
“Because Vittorio thinks every compromise is temporary.”
“He does not understand temporary evil trains permanent appetite.”
Silence.
Then Lucia:
“And Giulietta?”
Giulietta froze.
She was eight then.
Samuel’s answer:
“Leave the child out.”
That surprised everyone.
Lucia:
“Why?”
Samuel laughed softly.
“Because children ruin elegant plans.”
The tape ended.
Giulietta stared.
Samuel had been manipulating families.
But he did not want her involved.
Strange.
Warren looked toward another tape.
Giulietta saw it.
“MARGARET.”
Preston reached first.
Warren grabbed his wrist.
“No.”
Preston stared at his father.
“Let go.”
Warren did not.
Giulietta stepped between.
“Warren.”
He released him.
Preston inserted the tape.
His mother’s voice filled the room.
May you like
“If Preston ever hears this, then Warren failed to keep me dead.”
Preston’s face emptied.
