Lorenzo held the man’s glare but wavered on the question. If he were in Fish’s shoes he’d die like a man not a porco Dio, pig God. And Fish knew the night would end with his life. What could he bargain with?
“You’re still trying to gain your cousin’s favor aren’t you?” Fish spoke in a calm almost empathetic voice. The mockery fileted Lorenzo and he slammed his fist into Fish’s face for the insult. The man buckled, but he held him up by his hair. Fish spat blood and grinned; crimson spittle coated his lips and teeth. “I know your secret,” he whispered. “I know the real reason why you killed Giuseppe. He told me about Don Tomosino’s death.”
“Silenzio!” Lorenzo drew back to hit him again but Fish laughed. Cold bitter laughter void of repentance echoed through the alley. Enu the Nigerian said Giuseppe had taped his enemies. That there was a recording of the one conversation he prayed no one ever heard. If it had existed Angelo Calderone would have certainly used it by now. Lies!
“Tell your boy who really murdered Don Tomosino.” Fish challenged.
Lorenzo could sense the questioning look from Carmine. The young man’s gaze volleyed between both men unsure of what he heard. He drew his gun out of the front of his pants and shoved it under Fish’s chin.
“I can take you to Giovanni as a corpse, it doesn’t matter.” He released the safety on the gun. Carlo arrived. Why he fell behind him Lorenzo wasn’t sure, but he was grateful his best friend hadn’t heard the nasty challenge from Fish about Tomosino.
“Wait! Wait! I have something you want. Informazioni! It will make you a hero. It’s what you need, right? To be the hero for Don Giovanni?”
“Fuck you.” Lorenzo seethed.
“She lives!”
Lorenzo froze. He lowered the gun and stared at the worm. “Who lives?”
Fish spat more blood before speaking. “His American. The black American woman. She lives.”
It was Carlo’s turn to laugh. “Kill the motherfucker. We have no time for this shit,” Carlo said in disgust.
Lorenzo threw up his hand to stay the execution. “Mira’s dead. We all saw her die. You set the bomb.”
“No. I set a bomb, but the bitch didn’t die. I saw the people who did. The day they came to her home I was there, leaving. I passed the woman, the one that the news people showed to be the designer. It wasn’t the fashion designer. I saw her face. Heard her with the other man. They were talking about leaving quickly and getting things for their boss. It wasn’t Mira Ellison.”
“Bullshit!” Carmine laughed. “Can you believe this boss? He drags up a ghost to keep from becoming one!”
“Kill him!” Carlo said, eager to conclude their business. “Bonaduce will know we’re here. That’s what delayed me. I had a run-in with two of his men. Their bodies rot in this alley. We need to go. Now.”
“I can prove it!” Fish shouted over Carlo’s voice.
“He’s lying Lo! She’s dead!” Carlo insisted.
“Let me do him boss. Let me do it.” Carmine grinned.
Lorenzo shook his head no. “Everybody shut the fuck up!” he shouted. “How can you prove it?”
Fish released a deep sigh of relief. “Angelo. He was pissed that I didn’t kill her. He wouldn’t give up. He sent me after her. She’s with an Asian man. Don’t know his name but I took photos. Angelo was going to use them against Giovanni. Then you killed Don Calderone’s daughters. He went mad with rage. We lost track of her. The Americans said she was dead. Angelo thought it best to let Giovanni believe it. Especially after we all saw how he lost control with grief. Don’t you understand? The photos are my proof, I can get to them. They’re dated. I can give them to you in exchange for my life. I’m not stupid. If I tell you where Angelo is, I’m a dead man, even if you don’t kill me, he will. This is what I know you can use.”
Lorenzo’s gaze switched to Carlo and his brow creased in confusion. “Why the fuck would she pretend to be dead?”