Inferno (Page 72)

I almost smiled. His plan was so stupid, so outlandish, it would never work. He could never discredit me like that. I rolled my eyes – my incriminating eyes – so they could all get a good look at how dumb their consigliere was.

‘What is this, Felice?’ Elena asked. ‘What are you saying?’

‘You’ve said it yourself countless times, Elena. There is something off about this girl. You saw it that night in the hospital.’

Elena rose a little in her seat, latching on to Felice’s ridiculous diatribe. ‘Yes … but this …’

Felice glared at me. ‘I will ask you only once. Are you, or are you not, the granddaughter of Don Vincenzo Marino?’

‘You know I’m not,’ I gritted out. ‘Cut the crap. You know who my father is.’

‘I know now,’ he boomed, the sudden loudness shocking me a little. ‘Though it’s taken me far longer than I would have liked, I’ve finally found the missing Marinos.’

I lunged towards him, stretching across the table as my lungs burnt with all the names I wanted to call him. ‘You’re sick,’ I hissed. ‘To make up lies like this after I brought you real information that would help your family. It’s low, even for you.’

Murmurings began – sceptical, hesitant, as heads whipped back and forth between Felice and me.

‘At first it didn’t make sense,’ Felice continued, turning to his family now and leaving me discarded in his periphery. I straightened up, composing myself. I would not go crazy. I would not stoop to his level. ‘Why would Donata Marino welcome Jack Gracewell into her fold? We have long known how private the Marino family is. Their allegiance makes no sense. Her interest in this girl makes no sense. And yet her final words to her were Fidelitate Coniuncti! Incredible!’

‘Felice,’ Luca growled. ‘You’re going too far.’

Felice’s eyes were flashing, desperate, searching. He turned to Valentino. ‘Tell them,’ he implored. ‘Make them see.’

Valentino knitted his hands together on the table, his ring flashing beneath the lights. ‘Before our father was killed, he had been looking into Michael Gracewell’s past. I’ve found files that show his growing interest in the Gracewell family, but almost half of them are not directed at Jack and the Golden Triangle Gang. He seems to have been piecing together a puzzle, and Jack was only part of that.’ He ran his tongue along his teeth, pausing, deliberating in his head. Everyone – including me, despite the absurdity of it all – was hanging on the next word from their boss. ‘There’s no record of the Gracewells as children. Michael Gracewell first appears as a junior in a high school in Milwaukee at sixteen years old. A transfer student from Chicago with no background. Until now I didn’t know what any of this meant, or what my father was pursuing at the time of his death. Most of us had forgotten the legend of the missing Marinos.’

‘Not all of us,’ said Felice, his voice deathly quiet.

Valentino ignored the interruption. ‘I never thought to make the connection between my father’s research on the Gracewells and the Marinos until Jack Gracewell turned to Donata Marino, of all people, for protection from us. Until Donata Marino opened her doors to a simple Americano with a languishing drug trade. Then I started to wonder.’

‘This is ridiculous!’ I said, looking around at matching expressions of incredulity. ‘I know exactly where I come from. Jack and my dad had to move to Milwaukee when they were young to live with their grandmother. Their parents died in a car accident when he was—’

‘Sixteen,’ said Felice, getting to his feet. ‘I know. I was there.’ He made the sign of a gun with his finger and thumb and pointed it at my head. ‘But it was no car accident, believe me.’

I shook my head. This guy was utterly deluded. There was no way he was taking me down like this. Not when I needed Sanctuary. Not when I had my mother to think about.

‘You know, Vincenzo’s boys weren’t there that day,’ he said to me. ‘The two of them were gone before I could finish the job.’ He clicked his fingers. ‘They had vanished in a puff of air.’

‘Jack and my father aren’t twins,’ I countered.

Felice shrugged. ‘Neither were the Marinos. Twins make it a better story. It seeks to justify the Marinos’ hit on my own father on the day Luca and Valentino were born.’

‘You’re clutching at straws,’ I said. ‘You know you are. Everyone can see it.’ I was starting to sound less sure of myself, but only because he was so convincing. That didn’t make him right. He was a lunatic.

‘You’re either a good liar or a dumb fool,’ said Felice, coming closer. I watched his hands, anticipating the appearance of a real gun, but he kept them where I could see him, raising them as he asked, ‘Do you know why your father murdered my brother? Because I think I finally understand now.’

‘It was an accident.’ I blinked back the tears pooling in my eyes.

Felice was losing his composure. His voice was shaking. ‘Don’t you think it strange?’

‘He came for Jack that night,’ I said, repeating what Felice had told me all those weeks ago. ‘You said it yourself.’

Felice turned to the others. ‘Who here believes Michael Gracewell’s hit on Angelo was an “accident”?’ he said, making air quotes.

There was a stony silence. Nic deflected his gaze. Luca wouldn’t look at me either.