Luciano assassinations, and, at the same time, reaped vast financial rewards . . .
She was too tired to think further. She gathered all the documents together and returned to her bedroom.
At six-thirty that evening she went to sleep for a few hours. By the time she had dressed again she could hear the others talking together in the living room.
They fell silent when she walked in. Then Graziella, with a warm smile, indicated her own chair by the fireside, inviting Sophia to sit in it.
Graziella held out her hand. "This is for you, Sophia. We want you to wear it; we give it to you for your bravery. We love you and trust you, and I kiss you, in the hope that you will receive it and wear it."
She kissed Sophia on both cheeks, then took her daughter-in-law's hand and placed on her wedding finger Don Roberto's embossed gold ring.
"Mama, I can't. . . ."
"Please, Sophia, wear it, in the name of my husband, my sons, my grandsons. I ask one thing from each of you. I ask you to swear on the Holy Bible never to speak of Luka. His name must never be mentioned. We are held together by his death; we need nothing more. Omerta ..."
She kissed her small, worn leather Bible and made the sign of the cross, closing her eyes in prayer. Then she passed the Bible to Teresa, who laid her left hand flat on its cover and crossed herself with her right.
"I swear, by almighty God ..."
They waited in silence for Sophia to take the oath and show that she accepted Don Roberto's ring. Her hands were folded in her lap, the ring hidden from view. Her mind was in turmoil; instead of asking her to head the family, they should be casting her out.
Graziella touched her hand. "Sophia, please . . ."
Wearily Sophia rested her hand on the Bible. "I swear by almighty God, Mama." Then she rose to her feet. She clasped Graziella and kissed her on both cheeks, then turned to Teresa, and last she cupped Rosa's face in her hands, kissing her.
Rosa noticed the small gold heart that Sophia wore on a chain, and asked if it had belonged to Luka. Sophia answered simply that it had belonged to one of her sons.
It was as if Luka continued to help them from the grave. Even before his death rumors had begun to circulate about who exactly was behind the widows; the rumors spread an insidious fear. Revenge was expected, but from where?
The murders Luka had committed, the decapitation of Barzini's cousin, even Barzini's own coincidental death were discussed. It was whispered that perhaps not all the Lucianos had died that fateful night in Palermo, that one of them had ordered the death of Paul Carolla.
As the silence continued, suspicions mounted. A contract was out on Carolla's crazy son, but he had disappeared. Peter Salerno repeated innumerable times the telephone conversation he had had with the unnamed man who claimed to represent the widows. Old ground, past history, was dredged up, and a few came to the conclusion that if there was not some big name family behind the widows, then there was a Luciano still alive. If so, revenge would come; it had to; it was their law. But until it could be proved, no one wished to make a move. Orders passed from one family to another: wait.
Peter Salerno waited patiently, sure he would be the first to be contacted. The call he had been expecting came two weeks after Luka's death.
Sophia Luciano requested a meeting with Salerno and the men behind Barzini. Salerno agreed to arrange it and quickly checked out the address Sophia had given. The Groves, he discovered, had been owned by Paul Carolla and had been handed over to the women by Luka Carolla. The hit on Luka Carolla was upped to one hundred thousand dollars.
Three weeks after the murder of Luka and five days after the call requesting the meeting, Salerno traveled to Long Island in a chauffeur-driven limousine. The three men with him were high-ranking consiglieri of three major families, the families that had been named by Luka as instigating the Luciano assassinations.
The men with Salerno were Tony Castellano, the U.S. representative for the Corleones, Johnny Salvatore, for the
Gambino family, and the hugely fat Nuccio Miano, the paymaster for the Chicago-based Avellino family. They were gray-haired, smartly turned out, and determined to gain control of the Luciano empire.
They fell silent as they reached the impressive avenue of The Groves, partly in admiration but also with anger that they had let this prize piece of property escape their attention.
The sun shone, showing off the house to full effect. The heavy clang of the electronic gates locking behind them made one man turn, and the hair on the backs of his hands prickled.
Graziella preceded Teresa and Rosa into the room, where they were introduced to the others by Salerno. Then Graziella gestured to Rosa to leave the room.
When Rosa had gone, Graziella gave a small nod for Teresa to offer the visitors the most comfortable chairs. "My other daughter-in-law will join you shortly. I have wine, a favorite of my husband's: Brunello di Montalcino. It would be an honor for me to serve you and toast the memory of Don Roberto."
They could not refuse, and the small glances they passed among themselves was confirmation. The wine was uncorked, wrapped in a fine linen napkin, and Graziella poured it into the fine crystal glasses. She carried a silver tray, a small silver bowl of crackers, to each man. She was servile, charming, murmuring, "Grazie," as they accepted their drinks. She then replaced the tray but did not pour herself a glass. Instead, she stood next to Teresa.
Peter Salerno lifted his glass. "To Don Roberto!"
Graziella crossed herself, murmuring "Grazie."
The men made no attempt at polite conversation. They could feel the tension in the two watchful women, yet there was no antagonism. Teresa opened a box of Havana cigars, Graziella gave a nod, and Teresa offered them to the guests.
Rosa tapped on Sophia's door, then opened it slightly. But Sophia seemed not to notice her niece's presence. She was standing by the closed shutters, half in shadow, and was talking softly to herself. When she finally became aware that Rosa was there, her body froze, her face still in profile, her lips slightly parted. "They are waiting, Sophia."
Sophia did not move, did not answer. As Rosa slipped out of the room, she didn't see Sophia lift her hand and touch the small gold heart.
Rosa closed the double doors into the living room and joined her mother and grandmother silently. The men exchanged glances among themselves, wondering why they were being kept waiting.
At last they heard the click of high heels across the marble of the hall. The door handles turned slowly, and then the doors swung open wide. Sophia paused a moment, framed in the doorway. Her sleek black hair was coiled in a bun at the nape of her neck; her plain black dress was open at the collar. High-heeled black shoes and black stockings made her look stark but demure. The only color was her lipstick, a slash of crimson. She gave them the sweetest of smiles and walked serenely to the center of the room.
Graziella quietly introduced each of the men. They had to rise from their seats, cross the room, and kiss Sophia's hand; she made no move toward them. As they kissed her right hand, they could see that she wore Don Roberto Luciano's ring, the ring that had once belonged to Joseph Carolla.
Sophia gestured for her guests to be seated, then sat, crossing her legs, and not a man there could resist looking at them.
"Gentlemen, I have been named Don Roberto's heir. I am now, and wish it to be known, the head of the Luciano family, and as such I have every intention of running il Papa's companies, apart from those we have already agreed to sell."
Peter Salerno looked at the other men. They sat back, bemused expressions on their faces. Sophia Luciano appeared to be asking for membership in an establishment that had never in its history allowed a woman to take the oath.
Sophia's husky voice continued. "I am fully aware of my father's organization connections, and I leave it to the commission either to ignore my existence or to agree to let me run my business without harassment."
Miano sucked at his cigar, spit, then picked a piece of tobacco from his fat lip
. With a dismissive gesture he said, "Signora, no one is going to harass you. What occurred with Michelfe Barzini was most unfortunate—""Forgive me, signor; you say unfortunate. Perhaps that is not a good description. We were treated without respect, almost robbed."
She looked at Graziella, then back to Miano. "Signor, we are no longer interested in negotiation. We still retain the legal rights to the properties under consideration, but now our price has tripled. Furthermore, we will agree to sell only if certain conditions are adhered to. I am against the trade in narcotics, like my father before me, and unless we can be assured that his wishes are respected by the new owners, we will not sell."
Salerno found himself tapped on the arm and pulled close by Salvatore, who murmured to him, keeping his face averted. Salerno, his eyes on Sophia, held up his hand, excusing the interruption. He nodded his agreement; then Salvatore turned, ignoring the women, and discussed something in a hushed voice with Miano and Castellano. The three huddled close, then separated and leaned back.
Salerno was given a small wave of Salvatore's heavily ringed hand. He obviously spoke for them all.
"Signora, there must be some mistake. You have, to our knowledge, already been paid a considerable amount for the businesses."
"You are mistaken. Barzini hired men who physically attacked all of us in an attempt to secure the legal titles to our company without paying for them. Perhaps you should look to those working on your behalf for the return of the funds you wrongly believe to be in our hands."
She touched the gold heart at her throat, as if feeling for a pulse, but her eyes moved from one man's sweating face to the next, finally resting on the shifty-eyed Peter Salerno.
He in turn watched her warily, detecting the anger behind the mask of her face and puzzled by her repeated gesture of raising her hand and placing her index finger on the gold locket at her neck.
"Within ten days you will receive the full transcripts of Don Roberto Luciano's statements that were prepared for the trial in Palermo. They show, clearly, that until the end he was a man of honor, a man who could have been trusted but, tragically, was not. We feel it our right to be given compensation; this, I believe, is your law. If we cannot expect this from you, then we will take whatever action is necessary to ensure that Don Roberto Luciano is given the justice he deserves."
Salerno looked at each man present, then eased forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the carved arms.
"Signora Luciano, all of us here offer you and your family our deep condolences regarding your tragic losses. But we do not have the right to offer you compensation, even if we wished to do so, because that would indicate that we were in some way involved when nothing could be farther from the truth. We are simply businessmen, no more, no less. Nevertheless, we cannot dismiss Michele Barzini's treatment of you, and we wish you to know that he acted without our knowledge. We agree to pay you an extra twenty thousand—"
Sophia interrupted. "Twenty? Twenty thousand?" She smiled coldly. "Your gift is most acceptable, but what we need is assistance in discovering the identities of those men concerned in arranging our beloveds' murders. And financially, we feel we are entitled to Paul Carolla's estate. After all, Joseph Carolla named Roberto Luciano his heir, and now that Paul Carolla is also deceased, we—"
Salerno interrupted. "But Carolla has a son."
Sophia turned to face him, held his eyes, and he gave way, looking down at his hands.
"Luka Carolla is wanted for the murder of my children, Signor Salerno. Furthermore, he was adopted; Paul Carolla leaves no blood heirs."
Graziella signaled that she wished to speak to Sophia, and with a small inclination of her head as if to apologize to her guests for the interruption, Sophia went to her side, unintentionally bending away from the men, listening and masking Graziella's whispered words. Salerno took the opportunity to confer with Miano, who was becoming impatient.
The four men waited as Sophia returned to her chair, but they remained standing. Salerno coughed. "Signora, we are aware that this property was owned by Paul Carolla and was recently signed over to Signora Graziella Luciano. When there is a meeting in the near future, we can discuss Paul Carolla's estate, but until that time I am unable to say if any of it can be handed over to you."
Nuccio Miano cleared the phlegm from his throat and adjusted his vest, refusing to say anything at this time, but he had listened long enough. He wanted to leave.
Tony Castellano picked up on his associates' agitation and gave a barely noticeable nod to Peter Salerno. With Miano irritated by the women's audacity, Castellano knew there would be repercussions from Sicily when he reported back.
Sophia thanked each man cordially for coming to the meeting, then turned to Graziella and smiled. But it was the smile of Luka that Graziella saw on her face. All sweetness had gone, and her eyes telegraphed a warning to each woman to remain silent. Their visitors must get no hint from any of them that she was about to lie.
Sophia then continued. "What none of you realizes is that there remains an heir to the Luciano estate, an heir who wants only what is rightfully his. If he is refused, you give the family no option but to look elsewhere. ... La spine della rosa sono nascoste dal Jiore."
The other women watched Sophia as she insisted on serving more wine to her guests with her own hands, handing Peter Salerno his glass last. She smiled at him above the rim of her own glass, lifting it as if in a toast. Then she turned her attention to the three other guests, speaking to each man in turn and saying that it was sad that the Lucianos were not given the respect of meeting the two other families interested in negotiating with them. She spoke the two names without any show of emotion.
She ended the meeting as abruptly as she had opened it: courteously and without a trace of fear. Her voice had been soft and persuasive and never at any time less than cordial.
Now, as the three men walked from the room, she rested her hand on Peter Salerno's arm, gave him yet another smile, and this time leaned toward him and kissed him on his astonished lips.
"Arrivederci, signor, we thank you."
The men agreed it was farcical of Sophia to believe there was even so much as a possibility of her becoming part of the organization. Yet there remained the fact that to date the women had already got away with fifteen million and still retained the entire Luciano holdings in both America and Palermo.Sophia's demand for Paul Carolla's estate furthered the rumor that someone was behind the Luciano women, someone who had schooled them well, and someone who was prepared to kill for them. And who was the heir she claimed? Miano spit in disgust at the thought of men willing to take orders from four women, one of them just out of school, another a grandmother.
The car passed through the wrought-iron gates, which closed soundlessly behind them, and the hidden video cameras swiveled back into place. Peter Salerno, sitting in the backseat, could not resist a last look back at the impressive house. He looked up at the top-floor windows; a woman, clothed in black and partially hidden by the security bars, was watching them leave. She was in the shadows, but he was sure he recognized her.
"I think Sophia Luciano's different, a different kind of woman from what we're used to. She's—"
The men in Salerno's car admitted that she unnerved them; she was, they joked, an unknown commodity. None of them had ever had any dealings with a woman like her, in business or bed. They all agreed with less humor than before that she was bella . . . bella mafiosa.
But Salerno didn't laugh. He stared from the car window. What had made her so different?
The slush spattered the road and the gleaming sides of the limo. The cigar smoke made him feel sick, and he pressed the button to lower the window, gasping for the freezing air. How had she known just which of the families were involved? He went over the meeting virtually word for word, picturing her face as she quietly listed men who didn't even know of one another's complicity. This meant she had to know every man involved in the murder of her family. Salerno was chilled by the ramificatio
ns because if she knew who they were, she must also be aware of the money transferred from Sicily, the Luciano fortune.
Someone asked him to close the window. He reached for the button; the pain in his gut was like an explosion, blowing his bowels apart. The burning sensation swept up through his chest and into his throat, choking him, and spittle ran from his lips. His mouth flapped soundlessly as if he were trying to warn the other men, but he never uttered another word.
Peter Salerno's name was scratched from the back of the photograph. The photo of Michael Luciano was set back in its place of honor. Graziella Luciano, widow of Don Roberto Luciano, Teresa, widow of Filippo Luciano, and Rosa, the tragic bride-to-be, waited expectantly to hear the outcome of their meeting, unaware that Sophia, widow of Constantino Luciano, mother of little Carlo and Nunzio Luciano, had already acted. The seeds of the vendetta that had begun with the murder of Michael Luciano would continue. La spine della rosa sono nascoste dal fiore. The thorns of the rose are hidden by the bloom.
Table of Contents
Prologue
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
BELLA MAFIA Page 56