Prince Alfredo Masserini had suffered a broken nose. ‘I will sue that man for every dollar he has,’ he ranted from his private hospital bed, his perfect Roman nose encased in a plaster cast.
‘You don’t know who he is,’ Lara remarked calmly.
Prince Alfredo swore hotly in Italian, then said, ‘Lara, you are being a very stupid girl. I thought perhaps there was a future for us together, but now…’ He shrugged, trailing off.
Lara got up from the chair beside the bed and nodded. ‘You’re right, Alfredo. You really are.’ She walked toward the door. She’d had enough of him and his whining. News of April Crawford’s surprise marriage to Sammy Albert was all over the papers. What was Nick doing? Thinking? Was he destroyed?
‘Where are you going?’ Alfredo demanded imperiously.
She shook her head. ‘Paris, maybe. The Bahamas. I don’t know.’
‘You wait here a few days,’ he said, condescendingly. ‘I will forgive you. We go somewhere together.’
‘Ah, but I don’t want to be forgiven,’ she replied, her green eyes bright. ‘I’m not a child, Alfredo. The truth is, I’m sorry about your nose. I’m sorry about everything. It’s just best we don’t see each other again.’
‘Lara!’ He was shocked. ‘What do you mean? I have waited these last weeks, I have made certain plans for us. My mother, she looks forward to meeting you. We ski first, then on to Rome, where I will present you to my family.’
‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘It’s over.’ She left the room, hardly listening as he burst into a stream of angry Italian.
As she walked down the corridor she felt completely blank. Nothing mattered, nothing at all. She was very tired, and the only thought that appealed to her was to climb into bed, bury herself beneath the covers, and sleep. Maybe for days.
She wished the impossible. She wished she had Margaret to talk things over with.
Outside she climbed into her chauffeured car and closed her eyes. ‘My apartment,’ she instructed the driver.
‘The city’s goin’ mad,’ he informed her. ‘There’s hoodlums runnin’ wild blowin’ each other up. It ain’t safe drivin’ no more.’
Lara wasn’t really listening. She was already drifting into sleep.
* * *
There was no body to identify. No body to bury. Frank Bassalino had been blown into a thousand little pieces. Two people innocently standing near the car were killed; many more were injured as the blast blew out all the windows in nearby office buildings and shards of glass came showering down. Nick didn’t hang around. He took it all in at a glance and knew Frank had no chance. Thinking quickly, he hauled Angelo out of their own car and, holding him tightly by the arm, marched him away from the wreckage.
Angelo was too shaken to talk. Nick moved fast; they were three blocks away when several police cars zoomed past.
When Nick was sure they weren’t being followed he hailed a cab and told the driver to get them to the airport as speedily as possible.
‘Somebody’s going to get his balls sledge hammered for this,’ he said at last. ‘And I am gonna do it. I’m gonna cut his fuckin’ balls off and string them up for salami.’
Angelo was a nervous wreck. ‘Who did it?’ he asked, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.
‘We’ll find out,’ Nick replied grimly. ‘We always find out. Nobody gets away with killing a Bassalino.’
‘You’re beginning to sound like Enzio.’
‘I hope so, little brother. I really hope so.’
* * *
Rio Java flew into New York and saw the headlines.
She went straight to Cass’s apartment. Dukey was already there. ‘Did you arrange it?’ she asked.
He made a vague gesture. ‘Maybe I did, an’ maybe I didn’t. We’re not the only ones who want to see the Bassalinos go down.’
‘Well, don’t touch Angelo—he’s mine. Understand, brother?’
‘Sure,’ he agreed. ‘If you get to him first.’
‘I don’t have to get to him. I just want to destroy him. Isn’t that supposed to be the plan?’
Dukey nodded. ‘That was before. Things are different now.’
‘What do you mean, things are different now?’
‘Let’s just call it a little racial problem and leave it at that.’
‘Racial problem my ass!’ she exploded.
‘Listen,’ he said angrily. ‘You had your chance, an’ you blew it. Now it’s my turn.’
‘Oh,’ she said coldly, ‘you mean I’m supposed to drop everything on account of what you say.’
‘Clever girl.’
‘Don’t call me girl, asshole.’
‘Beth and Lara are already out,’ Cass interrupted quickly, looking to avoid a fight. ‘I think Dukey’s right, Rio.’
Rio turned on her. ‘Oh, do you? Well, fuck you, too.’
Dukey’s eyes were hard and cold. ‘Shame you’re not black.’
‘I’m multicolored,’ she said acidly. ‘It’s more fun.’
‘You’re just pissed you can’t play any more of your mind games.’
‘I can do what I like, Dukey. And don’t you forget it.’
He nodded in agreement. ‘Sure, babe. Only don’t do it near the Bassalinos, ’cos your long, skinny, multicolored ass gonna get blown all the way to hell an’ back. Okay, babe?’