DINO BACCHETTI’S UNMARKED CAR pulled up in front of the Palatine mansion in the outer reaches of Brooklyn, the home of his father-in-law, Eduardo Bianchi. “Wait here,” Dino said to his driver. “My guess is, this won’t take long.”
Dino got out of the car and trudged toward the front door, dreading every step. He had never had lunch alone with Eduardo, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. The meeting with Mary Ann and her lawyer yesterday had been a disaster that had ended in shouting and harsh words, and Dino thought he had probably been summoned here to be disciplined. He was well aware that Eduardo had only to lift an eyebrow and some obedient servant would slip a stiletto between his ribs.
Dino rang the bell, and the front door was opened by just such a servant, Pietro, a cadaverous sixty-year-old who had once had a fearsome reputation as an assassin. But that was back in the days when Eduardo was still taking an active part in the ruling of his Cosa Nostra family, which ran large parts of Brooklyn and Manhattan.
Eduardo had since, over the past thirty years, made himself into an elder statesman of everything: the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the New York Public Library and nearly every important charity in the city. His Mafia connections had been mostly forgotten by the very few surviving people who knew anything about them. But Dino knew Eduardo still had the power to deal with people in any way he saw fit.
Pietro led Dino through the elegantly appointed house into the rear garden, where Eduardo sat at a table set for two. Eduardo rose and offered his hand, a good sign, Dino thought.
“Dino, welcome,” the old man said. He carried his eighty-odd years lightly, looking trim, even athletic, and there was only a little gray in his hair. “Please sit down and have some lunch.”
Dino sat. “Beautiful day,” he said, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Yes, one appreciates good weather as one grows older,” Eduardo replied.
A waiter came and opened a bottle of Frascati, while another man set before them plates of bruschetta, little slices of bread fried in olive oil, then topped with chopped plum tomatoes, garlic and basil. Dino tried not to eat too greedily, but Eduardo’s younger sister was the best cook he had ever known, and he loved bruschetta.
“I understand things didn’t go well yesterday,” Eduardo said.
“That’s understating the case,” Dino replied.
“You know that I disapproved of your marriage to Anna Maria,” the old man said. He refused to refer to her as Mary Ann, as she preferred to be called.
“Yes, I knew that.”
“I was, of course, upset that Anna Maria was pregnant, but my principal objection was that you were a policeman.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Dino said.
“However, as the years have passed I have come to respect your personal integrity. You would never allow me to use my influence to improve your position in the police department, though I could easily have done so, and you would never accept any gift from me, insisting that everything be in Anna Maria’s name. I realize now that you are being divorced, that works to your disadvantage.”
Dino shrugged. “All I want is shared custody of Benito,” he said.
“You will have that,” Eduardo said. “I do not approve of divorce, being a good Catholic, but I understand that people can come to a place in their lives where they can no longer live together, and I see little reason to deny them remarriage at some point. I once put that directly to the Pope, who was unhappy with me for a while, as a result.”
Dino thought that the Pope would have been at a disadvantage, arguing with Eduardo.
“You are aware, are you not, that Anna Maria has worked very hard at investing the money that came to her when she was twenty-one?”
“We never discussed that,” Dino said. “I told her I didn’t want to know.”
“I understand your position, but I assure you that the funds she started with came from entirely legitimate sources, and that that can be documented to the satisfaction of the New York Police Department or even the Internal Revenue Service.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Dino said.
“You have lived a long time in an unhappy marriage,” Eduardo said, “and the law entitles you to an equitable division of property.”
“I don’t want her property,” Dino said, though the thought of existing on a lieutenant’s salary and benefits did not thrill him.
“Anna Maria was able to do so well with her investments because you insisted on supporting her. That way, she could devote all her capital to making more.”
Dino shrugged.
“You are morally entitled to leave this marriage with more than you earn as a policeman,” Eduardo said, “so I have made certain arrangements.”
Dino said nothing but started in on the veal that had been placed before him.
“Anna Maria’s holdings now amount to about eleven million dollars, including the value of the apartment you shared, which was bought with earnings from her money. Tomorrow, a million dollars of her holdings will be placed in the trust that you set up at Benito’s birth and to which you would never allow me to contribute. This will be used as you have specified, for his education, and anything left over can be used to buy a home after he is twenty-five, though surely by that time he will have come into a considerable inheritance from me.”
“That’s very generous of her,” Dino said. This was Eduardo’s move, of course, not Mary Ann’s, but it lifted a load from his mind.
“Further, five million dollars of her funds go to you, as a complete and total settlement. I know you do not want any part of the apartment or any other wealth deriving from me.”
“Thank you for understanding that, Eduardo,” Dino said. “And I don’t want her money.”
“Five million of it is your money, Dino,” Eduardo said, “and it was placed in your checking account this morning.”
Dino put down his fork and stared at Eduardo.
“I can hear the gears turning in your mind, Dino,” the old man said. “You are trying to figure out how this money is ill-gotten gains, but I assure you none of it is. It is a reasonable and proper settlement of your divorce; it will stand up to any possible scrutiny by the department, the district attorney or the state and federal tax authorities, and I will not tolerate its return.”
Dino had never heard Eduardo use the words “I will not tolerate,” and they stopped him in his tracks. “I am uncomfortable with this,” he said, when he had found his voice.
“I know, but you will grow more comfortable with it as your life grows more comfortable, particularly when you are as old as I. You can now purchase a home of your own, where Benito can visit you regularly and have his own room. If you wish to invest the rest, I will be pleased to recommend someone who I can guarantee will not steal from you or charge unreasonable fees.”
Dino stared at his father-in-law again.
Eduardo held up a hand. “Please,” he said. “I ask this of you as a favor. Make an old man happy.”
Dino sighed. “All right. And thank you, Eduardo.”
Eduardo snapped his fingers and a man with a briefcase whom Dino had not noticed approached, appeared at his elbow. He opened the case and produced a sheaf of papers. “This,” Eduardo said, accepting them, “will be the settlement agreement between you and Anna Maria. It includes the financial settlement I have just outlined and a guarantee of joint custody. You will have Benito two weekends each month, two days each week and six weeks each summer, all to be mutually agreed on by you and Anna Maria. Anna Maria’s signature is already affixed and notarized. If you should ever feel that Anna Maria is not living up to the agreement’s provisions, you need not go to a lawyer or judge, simply telephone me. Please read it.”
Dino took a pen from his pocket and signed both copies of the document without reading it. The man in the suit notarized both, handed one to Dino and put the other into his briefcase, then disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.
The two men finished their lunch at their leisure and spoke of whatever came into their minds. It was the only time in the years Dino had known Eduardo that he had ever felt comfortable in his presence.