* * *
Wednesday night is the first night that my guys try to sell Brice’s charms. I’m nervous. Wednesday night isn’t generally a big house. More people usually come on the weekends. But the guys seem to have a good night, selling a lot of the charms. Afterwards, I watch people leaving the show, and they look transformed, as if they’ve had an experience they can hardly believe they’ve had. I hear hushed conversations amongst the people who had the charms. They know they’re illegal, and that they can’t broadcast the fact they used them. But all of them seem awed.
Brice watches too. “Good response,” he says. “They’ll tell people. We’ll have even more people requesting them tomorrow night.”
I think he’s right. It’s raining, and he asks me for a ride home. Brice doesn’t have a car.
I drive him back to his house, which is only a few blocks from my house.
In the driveway, he tells me that he’d ask me in, but his family might be weird about it. “You know, because you’re a Calabrese.”
He means because I’m a jettatori. “I understand,” I say. “Nonna was not exactly polite to you when you came over to my house.”
Brice shrugs. “Well, you know, old people.”
We laugh.
I give Brice more charms, and he promises to magick them up for me before tomorrow night. I want to ask him if he’s hiding the fact that he’s a berserker from his family. I want to ask him where he goes during that hour every night. Most people have to lock themselves up someplace. But he gets out of the car before I can.
The next morning, I get up early and take the ferry over the city. From there, I catch a subway to take me to the jail. It’s the same jail my father is in, but I’m not going to visit him. Instead, I’m going to visit Tito Calabrese. He was Angelo’s best friend. Angelo was my dad’s right hand man until he got killed. If anyone would know about the people that Angelo wasted, it would be Tito.
I’ve been to the jail before, so they recognize me. I don’t have too much trouble getting in to see Tito. I’m not technically on his list, but being a Calabrese means you can get in to see other Calabreses pretty easy. Anyway, they bring Tito out to the visiting area where I’m waiting for him.
He doesn’t recognize me at first, because he’s been inside for a while, but finally, he says, “Olivia. You’ve grown up.”
“Thanks,” I say, even though I don’t know if it’s actually a compliment. It’s not like Tito and I ever spent much time together before. He wasn’t some crazy uncle who bought me things when I was a little girl or anything.
“I been hearing things about you. That you’re following in your old man’s footsteps. That got something to do with why you’re here to see me?”
“Not really,” I say. “I came because I wanted to talk to you about Angelo.”
“What about him?”
“You guys were best friends. And Angelo did things for my father a lot. You know, he took care of people.” I say the last part so that he understands that I mean “killed people.”
“That was a long time ago,” says Tito. “And Angelo never talked to me about none of that stuff. What he and your father did was between those two.”
Well. This was a long trip for another dead end. I nod. “I thought maybe so, but I had to try and ask you anyway.” I get up. “Sorry for dragging you out of your cell and everything.”
“It’s no trouble,” says Tito. “In here, I got nothing but time.”
“Thanks anyway.” I turn to go.
“Wait,” says Tito.
I turn back around. “Yeah?”
“Is this about your mother?”
My heart starts to race. How has he figured that out? I sit back down. “What do you know?”
Tito shrugs. “I hear rumors is all. People say things. I don’t know if anything the people say is true or not. But I did know your mother, Olivia. She was a nice woman. She was real nice. And I don’t know if she knew as much about your father as she should have when she married him, you know?”
I guess he’s saying that my mother might not have known my father was involved in illegal things when they got married. Maybe he’s saying she was shocked. “You’re saying she did do it? That she turned my father in?”
Tito shakes his head. “Now, that’s a serious accusation, Olivia. Would I say that about Lucio’s wife? Would I call her a squealer? I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t know for sure, now would I?”
So maybe he was saying that my mother did turn in my father, but that my father didn’t want anyone to know.
“Truth is,” says Tito, “no one knows that for sure about your mother except the police. Right?”
“I guess so,” I say. But I’m getting more and more frustrated. Why won’t anyone just be straight with me?
“Look,” says Tito, “I don’t think Angelo whacked your mother. She was dead right after your father got arrested, and there wouldn’t have been any way your dad could have issued a hit on her while he was being taken into custody. So, no matter what she did or didn’t do, I don’t think Lucio ordered her killed.”
That does make sense, I guess. I know my father wasn’t allowed to see anyone right after he was arrested. And my mother died that same night. So, at least I can be pretty sure my father didn’t kill her. Unless... unless he did it himself that night. Unless he shot her in the confusion, while the police and my father were trading gunfire. I shiver.
“Does that make you feel a little better?” Tito asks.
I’m not sure. “Thanks, Tito.”
He smiles. “Any time. You know where to find me.”
The Toil and Trouble Trilogy, Book One Page 9