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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

E xpanding wet patches under the arms of the doctor’s lovely white shirt are not his best look. All the luxuriant black hairs on his forearm are glistening now, and not in the most appealing manner.

Opposite the food truck is a drinks wagon. The place is famous for the Negronis, more than anything. I wander over and have the very hunky cocktail barman make up two Negronis and I walk them back to the table.

I put both drinks in front of the doctor.

He scowls. “I don’t need this.”

I shrug. “You don’t have to drink it. They really are supposed to be great, though.” Then I say, “Did you want something, Bruno? I’m happy to go back.”

“Thank you, Donna Fortuna, nothing for me. Not right now.

“So.” Easing myself back onto the bench, I say to the doctor, “You get instructions, you carry them out, and then you report back.” I look him in the eye. “How does it work?”

His head hangs so low, he makes me think of a dog that’s been beaten. He’s pathetic. “They call me. They gave me this phone they call a ‘burner.’ I have to have it with me all the time.”

I ask him, “Do you ever call them?”

“I don’t have any way to do that.”

“Okay. So they call. Then what?”

“They give me a place to meet. A parking lot. Usually on the waterfront.”

“Same place?”

His head shakes, “Different place every time. I never know where it’s going to be.”

“And they give you a very short time to get there.” I know how this works.

“Fifteen minutes, usually. I have to break the speed limit to get there in time. It’s always a mad drive.”

“And when you get there, who do you see?”

“Two men.”

“Same men each time?”

He nods. “I go to their car.”

“You sit in the back?”

He shakes his head. “I sit in the front, beside the driver. The other one sits in the back.”

I tell him, “Describe them.”

He frowns and his face creases. “They wear hooded jackets.” his eyebrows stretch, pleading. “All I can tell you is that they’re big, dark-haired and they have a trace of an accent.”

“What accent?”

“I don’t know. Italian. Sicilian I think.”

I say, “Okay. Here’s another burner phone.” Bruno passes him a phone. “As soon as you get the call from them, you drop a pin for the location and you send a text to the number that’s programmed in.”

“What are you going to do?”

I tell him, “Nothing that needs to concern you.”

Bruno smiles, shakes his head and adds, “Way out of your paygrade.”

The doctor’s eyebrows flutter. “Whatever it is, they’re going to know. They’ll know that it was me.”

Bruno tilts his head, frowning, “And your point would be?”

As we get up to leave, I tell the doctor, “If I was your doctor, I’d tell you to drink the Negroni’s, call in sick. Maybe go spend some quality time with your wife and children.”

Carlo is waiting in the car. As we pull away, I tell them both, “It’s Romano. He’s sending his sons to handle the doc.”

Bruno nods, “I think you’re right.”

“He’s keeping it to close family. Only those who need to know. It’s a good strategy.” While I pull Catlin’s number up on my phone, I tell Bruno, “At least, it is to a point.”