“Leave us alone.”
His voice was broken, a shadow of the confident man he’d been seconds before. At first his henchman didn’t move. Turricci said something in Italian and the man slowly got up, casting a malevolent glance my way, and walked out.
It could not have gone any better. I could take on Turricci alone even with a bum leg.
He paced the room. “It can’t be true. That night, I know we made a child. I know it.”
He was talking to himself.
“I don’t want to die alone.” He stopped at the window and drew back the curtain.
As soon as he turned his back I was out of the bed in one smooth motion with the poker in front of me. Wincing in pain, I swung the poker around to him.
“You killed my parents and Vito and now you have to die.” My voice was steady. My hand steadier. I ignored the screaming pain shooting up my leg.
He turned and stared at me. “Have you ever killed somebody, Gia?”
His voice was calm. My heart sank. I was weak. He knew it. I swallowed back my fear.
He smiled. “You aren’t a killer.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I think I do.”
“You have to die. You killed my parents. I have to avenge their death. You are from the old country. You know this. You know that I have no honor unless I kill you.”
He shrugged. “Maybe the old ways are dying.”
“That may be true. But I cannot live with myself knowing you are alive.”
He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply before opening them again.
Then, he nodded.
For a second that felt like an eternity, we stared at one another.
“Freeze!” someone shouted.
Then, to my surprise, Turricci smiled and before I could comprehend it, he lunged for the poker, charging until it slid neatly into his chest. For another second, he was upright his eyes glimmering with something I didn’t understand. And then the light left them and he slumped. We both fell to the ground. I let go shrieking and crying and trying to get away from his body.
Distantly I realized that Sal and two police officers with guns drawn stood in the doorway.
Sal was instantly at my side, propping me up and holding me close.
“You were supposed to stay in Monterey.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“You’re free to go now. I just got off the phone with the judge. All charges against you have been dropped.”
I looked at him in confusion and he continued. “We’ve got Turricci for the murders of your parents and your godfather.”
“How’d you find me?”
“Wasn’t really you we found. We’ve had eyes on Turricci. He owns this place. When he showed up here early this morning, we headed up from Monterey. We knew he was behind it the whole time. It was just a matter of proving it.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“Where do you want to go? You still own your place on Russian Hill. Want me to take you there?”
I nodded in a daze.