Once a Thief (Gentleman Jack Burdette Book 3)

by Dale M. Nelson

  44

  Danzig and Choi rolled up on the scene in early evening.

  It was still hot, and the sky was a scattering of pastels that would soon darken to night. They didn’t have portable lights out here yet and there weren’t any streetlights to speak of, just the lights from Cannizzaro’s yard and from the assembled news crews.

  They also hadn’t carted the bodies away.

  Instead, they were stacked in a row and covered with sheets. Danzig didn’t know what the Italian word for “coroner” was, but there were two white Mercedes Sprinter vans with blue lettering that she assumed was it.

  After forcing their way through the crowd, Danzig flashed her FBI badge that the Carabinieri didn’t care much about, and they’d waited on the edges of the police tape until a DIA officer who recognized them waved them through. Danzig spotted Bruni in the fray, but he made no move to come over to them. No doubt, he’d seen them waiting at the edge of the cordon and decided they could continue to do so.

  The Cannizzaro compound was on the right, with a ten-foot-high stone wall, well lit, and a massive mechanical iron gate. There were tall, cylindrical Italian cypress trees and the thin, mushroom-shaped Roman pines along the inside of the wall. Cannizzaro’s property was inset a little from the road. There was no house on the opposite side of the street, just a large, empty field dotted with Roman pine trees.

  The only eyewitness accounts were Cannizzaro’s men, the ones that lived.

  Details were sparse, but what Danzig heard was that at approximately one thirty that afternoon, Cannizzaro was leaving his compound. A truck blocked the way, stopping the caravan. Two motorcycles approached from behind. One rolled right up to Cannizzaro’s SUV. The rider had a submachine gun inside his jacket and sprayed the back of the SUV, which was not armored. The second motorcycle, the theory was, was a backup in case the first rider didn’t get Cannizzaro. He did, so the second sprayed down the chase car, killing three of the four occupants. They were gone before the driver of Cannizzaro’s vehicle or the two men in the front vehicle could react. Then the delivery truck left the scene.

  It was a thorough and professional hit.

  There was no doubt who’d ordered it.

  With Bartolo taking the diamonds from Sturdevant and now Cannizzaro getting killed, they had no link to Gennady Sokolov. Operation Flipside was dead.

  She’d spoken at length with her boss in New York, and no one at the Bureau was blaming her or her team. In fact, the leadership behind Flipside praised her for her resourcefulness and ability to think around corners. If there was blame to go around, and there would be, her boss said it was going to fall on the Los Angeles division for letting Verrazano and LeGrande slip away. The fact that the latter then went and tried to murder Danzig’s informant didn’t look good for the LA squad either.

  The Bureau unofficially paused the operation once the diamonds disappeared out of LA, a work of misdirection that had them all completely baffled. The prevailing theory was that Reginald LeGrande tapped Clint Sturdevant to act as a backup in case something happened with the sale to Pan Pacific. The Bureau assumed Verrazano had suspicions that Cannizzaro would send people to collect, as he had. The LA division OC squad, supported by LAPD Vice, said this was the only logical explanation. The theory went on to posit that if LeGrande hadn’t sidetracked and gone up to kill Burdette, he and Sturdevant would have linked up in Los Angeles and hid out until they could line up a seller. The FBI still had Verrazano in custody at that point and could have used him to get to LeGrande. When LeGrande didn’t follow the script, Sturdevant called an audible.

  Danzig never shared the idea of having Burdette make a play for the diamonds. Better that she execute an audacious play and then tell everyone about it than to be the one who presents something so absurd it shouldn’t be considered. Discretion was a hard lesson to learn.

  While she understood Burdette’s hesitation, to a degree, something about it was off to her. She just couldn’t place exactly what. It was similar to the feeling she’d had in Monaco with that walker. Still, Burdette did have the LeGrande situation to deal with, and she’d spoken to the Sonoma County Sheriff’s detective herself and knew he’d asked Burdette to stick around and help with any further questioning. Plus, he’d had the wildfires to contend with. Danzig learned that both Burdette’s home and his winery were in the path.

  She’d called her boss when they learned about Cannizzaro’s assassination that afternoon, he was just getting into the office. Danzig had to stop using that word when she talked about this. “Assassination” implied a dignity Cannizzaro didn’t deserve. He was a crime boss that was shot in the street. Danzig told her boss they’d wrap things up here and would head home soon. She’d get most of the squad out the following day, but she might stick around if there was any assistance they could be to the DIA, though something told her there wouldn’t be.

  Danzig had no idea how she was going to write a report for this.

  “When I was here before,” Choi said, referencing his time as the deputy LEGAT in Rome before Danzig had recruited him, “I made a lot of contacts with DIA, Guardia di Finanza, Polizia di Stato. A lot of people were after this guy. He had the local government so wired, was in so many people’s pockets it was impossible to touch him. He had everyone’s dirty secrets, seemed like. Bribery, blackmail, whatever it took. He’d keep whatever sludge he had in that bank of his. When they bust open those safe deposits, it’s going to be like opening Pandora’s box.”

  Danzig knew that Cannizzaro had a long campaign of manipulating judges and political officials and knew that the Commerce Bank of Rome was the central hub for it, but she was certain that she didn’t know the depth of it.

  “These guys always find a way to check out before accountability,” Choi said, shaking his head slowly.

  He was more right than he knew, Danzig thought.

  Bruni stalked over to them, frog-faced and angrier than normal. They’d been on scene for about fifteen minutes before he’d acknowledged them. Danzig observed Bruni several times just standing around when he wasn’t barking orders at people.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he said by way of greeting. “Your government no longer has an interest in this case.”

  “We just wanted to see if we could have assisted.”

  “If you wanted to help, you’d have given me the name of your informant. I could’ve prevented all this.”

  Danzig regarded Bruni for a long moment. This guy had been nothing but obstructive throughout their involvement. Most people in his position would have been overjoyed at the prospect of American assistance and the resources that came with it. Bruni was a sexist asshole and Danzig had had her fill of him long ago. All she wanted was to drop him in his place. But that would create a mess for LEGAT here, and she didn’t want to do that to him.

  “How exactly would you have done that? He didn’t trust you. He was the money guy, so he knew everyone that Cannizzaro was paying off, which meant he knew which cops Cannizzaro was paying off.” Danzig realized as she said it that the implication was that Bruni would assume that would mean he was on the take rather than it being an indictment about the various law enforcement agencies that made up the DIA. “Bruni, I told you a hundred times that he didn’t trust your government because of the number of people on Cannizzaro’s payroll. But what would you have done if you’d had his name? Please, answer that question.” Danzig’s voice was calm, but she could feel her temper starting to bubble. She saw Choi shift on his feet slightly in her peripheral vision.

  “You Americans are so goddamn smug. You just roll up in any part of the world you choose and think you can dictate terms.”

  “Your government asked my agency to assist you,” she said flatly.

  “Nobody asked me if I wanted your help. It’s bad enough I have to try to arrest a man no judge will convict, now I have to babysit you people on top of it. But I suppose none of that matters now,” he barked.

  “Sergio Mazza.”

  �
�What?”

  “Sergio Mazza is Cannizzaro’s accountant. He manages the Commerce Bank. He’s the informant. He is all you need to open up the bank and expose the corruption.”

  Danzig didn’t just hand Bruni an olive branch, she gave him the entire orchard. But Bruni probably wouldn’t recognize it for what it was. “The only thing that convicting Cannizzaro got you, beyond the perception of justice, was testimony on all of the people he paid off, and that only worked if he was given something to compel him to do it. In other words, a deal. But having Mazza and his ability to describe the depths of the political and judicial payoffs was truly how you roll that operation up.”

  Bruni’s face twisted in a lemon-suck expression. “If you’d have told me that two weeks ago, we could have prevented all this. I’ll make sure my report reflects that.” Bruni turned on his heels and left.

  Danzig was going to tell him, again, that Mazza’s identity would not have allowed Bruni to do anything differently, nor would it have miraculously conjured the diamonds, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of saying that to his back.

  “What an asshole,” Choi said.

  Politically, within the Bureau, she believed they were covered. The loss of the diamonds were on the Los Angeles squad. That was too bad, she liked Fuery, but that was an uncovered angle. Bruni telling his government that the Cannizzaro murder was Danzig’s fault would not help, but she thought she could steer around it. She believed she could defend the decision on not telling Bruni who the informant was and could also show that even if Bruni had known, there were no different or better actions that he could’ve taken. But Danzig did have a reputation for exceeding her authority, taking unnecessary risks, and not considering the consequences of her actions. Someone above her might look at this situation and accept Bruni’s interpretation of events. After all, they portrayed the FBI in a negative light, another of Danzig’s earlier sins.

  “Bruni can say whatever he wants,” Danzig said, still keeping her eyes on the crime scene in front of them. “But I’d challenge anyone to prove him right. The simple fact is, Mazza would’ve fled if he knew we were handing him over to Bruni. We have him on tape basically saying that.”

  “The truth isn’t much good when what you’re looking for is blame.”

  The sky continued to darken, and the Italians were finally getting around to loading the bodies onto stretchers to take them to a morgue. TV crews were still reporting on the incident. There was a small mass of civilians outside the police perimeter, gazing, as they always did, at the carnage.

  Danzig turned and walked back to the car. Choi waited a moment and then followed.

  45

  Jack learned about Cannizzaro’s death from Enzo.

  The international press did not mince words.

  Mafia Boss Assassinated

  Cannizzaro died on a slow news day and got top billing in the Italian press.

  Jack took no pleasure in that but had to admit to the intense relief he felt.

  The plan worked, though not exactly the way that Jack intended.

  Though a shadow of its horrible and violent peak three decades before, organized crime in Italy was a pervasive threat throughout the country. There was an entire branch of law enforcement dedicated to its eradication. But it was also a highly fractured thing. The gangs that operated in one region had almost no ability to affect matters in another region. In fact, to do so might be to invite war. Though some groups did have operations outside of Italy, such as ’Ndrangheta or the Camorra, and a number of those were quite extensive, those were largely constrained to Europe and other Mediterranean countries. Cannizzaro changed all that.

  Not only had he established a smuggling operation throughout Europe and the Med, Cannizzaro could also send his people as far as the US to exact his will. It wasn’t a simple matter of buying plane tickets. Once they got here, they were funded and supplied. Beyond that, it was a matter of being willing to take the risk, to defy the reach of the American authorities who would carry the fight to his door if provoked.

  When Jack learned that Nico was involved, he knew that Cannizzaro would have his name and almost certainly his home. There was no outcome where Jack was safe. If he succeeded in taking the diamonds from Reginald and Vito, Cannizzaro would simply come for him. If he failed, Nico would do the same for no other reason than revenge. Even Vito added something to the calculus. Jack couldn’t count on what side Vito was going to play on, but he could always count on Vito using that knowledge if it got him something with Cannizzaro. Trade Jack’s life for his. You could count on that like you could count on gravity.

  So, Jack engineered a plan that he believed would eliminate the Cannizzaro threat for good.

  What he hadn’t counted on was Nico.

  Jack believed that Nico fled after the botched attempt on the diamonds in Los Angeles. He wasn’t among the killed or arrested, and the police eventually caught the car that fled the scene.

  But in a bizarre and surreal twist, they found themselves on the same side, if just for a moment.

  Jack wanted to take Danzig’s deal.

  Jack thought about how he could still satisfy his part even as he was driving to make the exchange. By the time he left to meet Enzo, Jack knew there was no way to accomplish this from home. There was no story he could craft that would convincingly explain to Danzig how he came across those diamonds in such a short amount of time. Even if she found a way to believe him, Jack didn’t think it would fly with her superiors. Jack always found a way out, he always outmaneuvered his opponents and the police, found some slippery way to win. This would not be one of those times.

  It came down to this—Danzig couldn’t guarantee his safety.

  He would never trust the government to protect him.

  Oh, she’d have offered the platitudes, the reassurances, the claims that Cannizzaro wouldn’t be able to harm anyone again. But this was a man who seemingly controlled half of the judges in Rome. Jack didn’t fully appreciate the extent of his empire until recently; he doubted the FBI did. Even if the Italian authorities did manage to arrest him, Cannizzaro would be able to manage his operations from prison and he would always be a threat. What if he or a member of his organization gave Jack’s name over to the Russian?

  Danzig offered him freedom. Legally change his name to Frank Fischer, be assigned a new social security number, and become a solid citizen. He could hold a passport again. More importantly, that would have killed, once and for all, any potential IRS investigation into where his money came from. Allegedly, Danzig said she’d stopped that when he served up Andelić, but he never believed any of that. Jack always figured that was a card she kept in her back pocket to play when needed.

  Passing on that was the hardest thing he’d done in his adult life. But he had to, because that path almost certainly would’ve meant going into hiding anyway, leaving behind everything he took the deal to save. If Cannizzaro lived, Jack would always be looking over his shoulder for a mafia hit man coming for him or the people he cared about. At the time he was also, rightly, concerned about Nico for exactly the same reason.

  Jack thought about that old toast they used in Turin, as young men full of bravado.

  When all my enemies are dead.

  Jack felt no guilt or remorse over engineering Cannizzaro’s murder at the Russian’s hands. Cannizzaro was human scum of the worst kind. He was a true villain, and the world was better without him in it. Jack would lose no sleep over that.

  Reginald was a different matter.

  Jack’s relationship with him was much more complicated. Jack hadn’t wanted to kill him, not truly. He’d have been satisfied if Reginald had just disappeared forever. Certainly, Jack would have wondered when Reginald might show up at his door to exact some manner of revenge, but Jack thought he could live with that over the guilt of shooting him dead. Not just that, but also watching him die and doing nothing to stop it. That action felt justified at the time, and Jack knew he could live with that too,
but that didn’t make it easy. Reginald’s death was on his hands and always would be. Knowing that it was in self-defense and to save Megan’s life took some of the edge off, but not much.

  Nico seemed satisfied with his “victory.” That was a nice speech he’d given Jack about what you can do with your hate. It was a good line, but that’s all it was. He’d have shot Jack dead in an alley if that’s what was called for. In the end, all Nico wanted was his diamonds and to live out the rest of his years in luxury. He’d do that now. Nico wasn’t walking away with as much money as he thought he was when he’d accepted the briefcase from Jack, but it was still more than he could probably spend in the years he had left. Sure, Jack told Danzig that Nico ended up with the diamonds, and if she wanted to give that information over to the Italian authorities, that was her business. If Nico had to spend some of those years on the run, too bad for him. That was necessary to cement his story with Danzig and give her something she could use since Jack wasn’t giving her the diamonds himself.

  Jack hadn’t heard from Danzig since Cannizzaro was murdered. He’d wanted to help her. That part wasn’t acting and he hoped she believed it, not just for the self-preservation but because he strangely found himself on her side. Danzig gave him a chance at an honest life once when she didn’t have to, which he’d (mostly) made good on. Jack believed he owed her at least that much.

  But like so much of what the government does, good intentions eventually meet bureaucratic inertia and those good intentions lose their momentum. Jack would never trust his safety to that.

  Jack walked out of a coffee shop in Sonoma Square. The morning was cool and foggy, it had rained the night before and had nearly every day since Jack returned from Monaco. As they had the year before, wildfires got to the edge of the property where Jack and Lincoln had dug a firebreak. Learning from the lessons of 2019, they cut down the growth at the edges of the property and removed the grass. Many of the Alexander Valley winemakers had done the same in the last two years, and that helped the fires stay somewhat contained. It at least helped minimize the property damage. Rain and cooling temperatures took care of much of the fires, and the extraordinary work of the firefighters ended the rest. They were still battling some holdouts, but for the most part the threat was over.