Chapter 7 - The Interrogation
By two in the morning, the basement beneath the Greenwich safe house smelled of wet mortar, iron, and old wine. It was a low-ceilinged room with stone walls four feet thick, lit by a single bare bulb hanging from a black cord.
Carmine Baldi sat tied to a heavy oak chair in the center of the room. His mouth was bruised, his dark hair soaked with sweat, his shirt torn at the left shoulder.
Danny Falcone stood five feet away, holding a short piece of lead pipe wrapped in black friction tape.
Stefano Marquetti sat in a folding steel chair by the door, his cane resting between his knees, his face illuminated from below by the stark light of the single bulb.
On the stairs behind them, Alice stood with her shoulder pressed against the cold stone wall. She had been brought down not to watch, but because Stefano refused to leave her upstairs without protection while the house was being searched. Nero sat beside her on the third step, his head level with her waist, his amber eyes watching the man in the chair.
"I didn't set the charge, Stefano!" Carmine gasped, spitting blood onto the concrete floor. "I swear on my mother's grave! The Russians paid me for the security codes! That was all! Just the window sensors!"
"Who paid you?" Stefano asked. His voice was quiet, rhythmic, almost gentle.
"Borisov!" Carmine yelled, his chest heaving. "The lieutenant from the Providence docks! He said they just wanted the ledger! They weren't supposed to burn the wing! They weren't supposed to shoot!"
"You gave them the codes for the west hallway," Stefano noted. "Where Nero sleeps."
"I didn't know the dog was in there!" Carmine wept, his bravado completely shattered. "I thought he was in the kennels! Stefano, please! We've been together since ninety-eight! My father was your uncle's driver!"
"Your father was an honest man," Stefano said. "He died with six dollars in his pocket because he wouldn't take Russian money for the dock manifests."
Stefano stood up slowly, leaning on his cane. He walked across the cold floor until he was standing twelve inches from Carmine’s chair.
"Where is Borisov now?" Stefano asked.
"The old fish packing plant," Carmine sobbed, his head hanging low. "Pier 14. They've got eight men there. They're waiting for the ledger transfer at four AM."
Stefano looked at Danny. "Is the house clear?"
"Elias checked the perimeter," Danny replied. "Carmine was the only one inside who had the codes. The rest of the crew is loyal."
Stefano turned his head slowly toward the stairs. His eyes met Alice’s in the dim light.
"You knew about the kerosene," Stefano said to her.
"I smelled it on his boots when he walked into the great hall Sunday night," Alice said, her voice flat. "Aviation fuel doesn't wash out with water. It leaves a white film on leather."
Carmine lifted his head, staring at Alice with pure, venomous hatred. "You... you bitch... you ruined everything..."
Alice didn't blink. She looked down at him from the third step with the cold, detached pity of a surgeon looking at a tumor that had already been removed.
"You ruined yourself, Carmine," Alice said. "The moment you tried to poison a dog to cover a theft."
Stefano turned back to Danny. "Take him to the pier. Leave him in the front seat of Borisov’s car with his phone in his lap."
"And the Russians?" Danny asked.
"I'll take care of Pier 14 myself," Stefano said.
"Stefano," Alice called out from the stairs.
He stopped, his hand resting on the back of Carmine’s chair. "Yes?"
"Your lower liver margin is still packed with mesh," Alice said, stepping down onto the concrete floor. "If you fire a heavy caliber weapon, the recoil will tear the intercostal sutures. You'll bleed into your lung before you clear the driveway."
Stefano looked at her for a moment, a faint, dark smile touching his lips.
"Then I'll use a suppressor," Stefano said softly. "It has less kick."
"You're not going," Alice said, walking right up to him until she was six inches from his chest. "I didn't spend three hours pulling rib fragments out of your chest so you could go play gunman at a fish plant."
Danny looked away, hiding a grin behind his hand. Carmine stared at them both in absolute, uncomprehending shock.
Nero walked down the steps, passed Alice, and sat down firmly on Stefano’s left foot, anchoring his master to the spot with one hundred and fifty pounds of dead weight.
Stefano looked down at the dog, then back up at Alice.
"He's taking her side," Danny observed dryly.
Stefano let out a long, low sigh that turned into a quiet laugh. "Fine. Danny, take Elias and eight men. Use the heavy iron. Leave no one on that pier who can answer a phone."
"Understood, Boss," Danny said, pulling Carmine up by his collar.
As Danny dragged the sobbing traitor toward the rear storage door, Stefano remained standing in the light of the single bulb, his hand resting on Nero’s head, his dark hazel eyes fixed entirely on Alice Brennan.
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"You're very bossy for a triage nurse," Stefano murmured.
"You're very fragile for a mob boss," Alice replied, reaching out to check the pulse in his neck. "Now get upstairs before I have to double your sedation."
