Sam Fortunato. Mary felt the name burn into her brain. Fortunato was probably the man Machiavelli had sent to kill John. She felt her pulse quicken. Now she had to decide what to do next.
Meanwhile, Flavia had resumed talking to Conchetta. “I wish Nicky were a good boy. I thought I raised him right. I tried to, after his father died. But he didn’t turn out good. I pray every day that he changes his ways.”
Paul took his mother’s arm. “Mom, okay, we’re done, you said it, we should go now—”
“No, I’m staying.” Conchetta pulled her arm back, her eyes remaining on Flavia. “Are you trying to tell me that you didn’t know that Nicky did that?”
“I didn’t know, my hand to God.” Flavia raised her hand, swallowing hard. “I’m very sorry that happened. That’s a terrible thing to do. And to a man in uniform, serving our country? I’m so ashamed.”
Conchetta frowned. “And you believe me, just like that?”
“Of course. You have no reason to lie.” Flavia tilted her head. “Now Nicky, he lies. He lies all the time. But I can tell when he lies. I know, I look right in his eyes, in his soul. And I’m gonna talk to him about Joey and see what he says. I’ll know if he’s lying.”
Conchetta seemed nonplussed, disarmed by Flavia’s response. “He said you wanted my house. He told me. He told Joey. Was that a lie or the truth?”
“A lie. I never wanted your house. I never wanted anybody’s house but my own. What I wanted was neighbors.”
Listening, Mary felt her words ring true. Conchetta’s frown turned sympathetic, as Flavia continued, her soft voice quavering.
“Nicky says he wants to treat me like gold, like a princess. But I don’t want to be a princess. He wants things for me, but I don’t want them.” Flavia gestured aimlessly, a flailing of her short arms. “I don’t need a house this big. I live alone. I only have Nicky, I don’t have any other kids. I never use any of these rooms. I get nervous when there’s too much room, like it’s outer space. I like to be where it’s cozy. I never leave the kitchen.”
“Oh yeah?” Lorraine called, from behind them. “You stay in the kitchen? Then how do you explain this?”
Mary looked over to see Lorraine pointing at a wooden folding chair placed against the wall, next to a table tray that held several upside-down water glasses of various shapes and sizes.
Lorraine scowled, folding her arms. “You use the glasses and listen in to Conchetta’s house through the wall, don’t you, Flavia?”
“You spy on us?” Conchetta frowned, dumbfounded. “On my family?”
Paul recoiled. “You spy on my mom?”
Ann, Margie, and everyone else turned to Flavia, who flushed under her papery skin. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I’m not spying. I’m just … listening. I can’t make out the words.”
“But why do you listen?” Conchetta asked, but her tone wasn’t accusatory, just bewildered.
“There’s always something happening at your house, Conchetta.” Flavia shrugged her little shoulders. “You have such a big family, so many kids. Their wives and husbands and babies, and the new puppy.”
Paul flared his eyes. “You know about my cousin’s puppy?”
Flavia looked up. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it. I’m allergic to dogs, so I can’t have one. I won’t do it anymore.”
Mary and Conchetta exchanged glances, and Mary wasn’t sure what to say.
Conchetta pursed her lips, looking down at Flavia. “That’s creepy, Flavia. Not gonna lie.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Did you hear us today?”
“Yes.” Flavia nodded, with a shaky smile. “You dropped the cookie sheet. Everybody laughed.”
Conchetta chuckled. “Not everybody.”
“I’m sorry that Nicky is so horrible to your family. I really am. I know nobody in the neighborhood likes him, and I think that’s why they don’t like me. But there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s too late. I can’t spank him anymore. I can’t punish him anymore. He’s a grown man. All I can do is tell him I’m disappointed in him. That makes him feel bad. But it doesn’t change him. I can only pray it’s not too late to change him.” Flavia gestured at the group of women, who had fallen abruptly silent. “I’m sorry if he did bad things to you, to any of you, or hurt your family. I see you in church, sitting together. I got Conchetta’s flyer once in my door, by accident. You’re the Rosary Society, right?”
They all nodded, and Conchetta answered, “We meet every week at my house. Today we’re going over to the hospital. We’re gonna leave in an hour.”
“That’s nice.”
Conchetta paused. “You wanna come? We can always use an extra hand.”
Flavia didn’t say anything, but got misty behind her glasses.
Conchetta smiled. “Flavia, what do you say? Tick tock. The cookies are gonna burn.”
“Okay.” Flavia laughed, clapping her little hands together.
“Okay, ladies?” Conchetta turned around, facing the rest of the group. “You don’t mind if Flavia comes with us, do you?”
“She can come.” Ann smiled.
“Fine with me.” Margie grinned, and everybody else chimed in, “No problem.” “She can come.” “She can bring extra napkins.” “Don’t forget your sweater.”
“Thank you.” Flavia beamed. “Thank you all. I can even take us, if you want.”
“You can drive?” Lorraine blurted out, delighted.
“No, I have a driver. Nicky makes me. He says it’s safer. I have macular degeneration, I can’t see so good.”
“You have a chauffeur?” Paul’s eyes widened. “In a limo?”
“No, in a normal car.”
Conchetta looked at Flavia like she was crazy. “But there’s fifteen of us. We don’t fit in one car. We usually take the bus.”
“He has a bus, too.” Flavia smiled slyly. “They use it for bachelorette. There’s booze in the back.”
“Party!” Lorraine shouted, and the others joined in, laughing and cheering, “Let’s do it!” “Woohoo!” “Let’s go!” “We’re ridin’ in style!” “The Rosary Society is movin’ on up!”
Mary couldn’t join in their happiness, now that she had the name of the man who killed John. All she could think of was what she could do next to bring Machiavelli and Fortunato to justice. Suddenly she heard a text come in on her phone and she stepped away from the celebration. She slid her phone out of her purse, and the text was from Lou: Here’s the enlarged video but it’s no better. Also tried but can’t find more cameras. Shanahan still at large. No new news.
Her heart sank, but she quickly ran the video. It was still dark and grainy, except that the image of the silhouette was bigger, but had no detail to help. She didn’t know what Stretch looked like, but the shadow had no distinguishing facial features whatever. The height and weight, again, looked average. She watched with disappointment as the silhouette on the video pulled up the window, which she could see better since it was bigger, then left via the fire escape. She hit Stop and put her phone away, with a frustrated sigh.
Flavia caught her eye, puzzled. “Mare, is something the matter?”
“No.” Mary forced a smile.
“What about with Stretch? What did he do something bad? I know he musta. If he did, I wanna know.”
“Um, nothing,” Mary answered, off-balance.
“Then why did you ask me his real name?”
“No reason. Just curious, because he beat up Joey.”
“You’re a bad liar. Nicky’s a much better liar than you. I answered your question, so you should answer mine.” Flavia glanced at Conchetta and the others. “You girls mind if I talk to Mary, alone?”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
“So.” Mary sat down at the glistening dining-room table. “You really want to know why I asked you Stretch’s real name?”
“Yes.” Flavia folded her hands in front of her. “Stretch works for Nicky. If Stretch did something wrong, Nicky should know about it and I wanna know about it.”
Mary paused. “But what if Stretch did something wrong because Nicky told him to, like when Stretch beat up Joey?”
Flavia glowered. “Believe me, I’m gonna talk to Nicky about that.”
“But do you still wanna know?”