by Stuart Woods
Stone sighed. “I’m in very deep shit here. I ignored Rick’s instructions and got the bit in my teeth. I’m never going to live this down.”
“You will, if it helps you get Casselli. What are you doing about that?”
“Looking for ideas.”
“You might ask President Kate to call the Italian prime minister and ask him to exert some downward pressure on Casselli through not just the DIA but all the other Italian police departments, of which there are many.”
“I can’t ask Kate to do that.”
“You want me to ask her? I’m happy to do it. The worst she can say is no, and she might not say that.”
“No, I’m too embarrassed at having used her as leverage, especially when I didn’t have it.”
“Whatever you say. I gotta run now. Call me if I can help in any way.”
“Thanks, Holly, I really appreciate that, and if I get an idea, I’ll call.” They said goodbye and hung up.
“That was Holly,” he said to Dino. “Turns out my audio had video attached.”
“Sheesh!” Dino said, laughing. “You just get in deeper and deeper, don’t you?”
“Tell me about it.”
Stone’s phone rang again. “Hello?”
“This is the White House operator. I have the president for you. Can you speak to her?”
Stone’s heart sank. “Yes, thank you.” He covered the phone and said, “It’s Kate.”
Dino burst out laughing.
“Hello, Stone?”
“Yes, Madam President?”
“I just loved your video.”
Stone’s heart leaped. “I didn’t even know it was a video, until Holly called.”
“That’s right, she would already have seen it.”
That meant that Holly hadn’t spoken to Kate. He was relieved about that.
“How can I help?” Kate asked.
“Madam President, I am so sorry to have brought you into this. I—”
“Nonsense. You’ve done me so many favors, and I’ve done you so few. Please tell me how I can help.”
“Well, we’re getting good cooperation from Massimo Bertelli, who’s head of the Italian DIA, but if you could call the prime minister, there’s a whole array of Italian police departments that could be brought to bear, if he’s serious about fighting the Mafia.”
“What a good idea! What time is it over there?”
“It’s a little after ten.”
“I’ll schedule a call to the PM for first thing tomorrow. Anything else?”
“If you could find a way to let Lance know that you’re not angry with me, he might speak to me again someday.”
“Done. I’ll call him right now.”
“Thank you so much for your help.”
“What are friends for? See you.” She hung up.
“What did she say?” Dino asked.
“She’s going to call the PM in the morning. I may have a life again.”
“So you’re out of the shit.”
“Maybe.”
“You’ve got more than nine lives, pal.”
“Friends are better than nine lives.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You certainly may.”
—
Lance Cabot had fallen asleep with a mission report lying open on his chest when the phone rang. “Yes?”
“This is the White House operator. Can you speak with the president?”
This was going to be about the Stone Barrington thing, he knew it. “Of course.”
“Hello, Lance?”
“Yes, Madam President?”
“Have you seen the video of Stone Barrington and the Italian mafioso Casselli?”
“Yes, ma’am, and I’d like to explain about that.”
“Isn’t it wonderful!”
Lance sucked in a breath and searched for words. “Stone is full of surprises, isn’t he?” That avoided both criticism and endorsement.
“He really tore into him, didn’t he? I talked with Stone a few minutes ago, and he needs our help. I’m going to call the Italian prime minister tomorrow morning and ask him to put his entire police force on Mafia alert and to make every effort to support Massimo Bertelli at the DIA.”
“That’s a wonderful idea, Madam President.”
“It occurs to me that there must be things your people in Italy can do to support the effort and to help get the Mafia off Stone’s and Marcel’s backs. I’ve heard all about what’s going on with their plans for a hotel in Rome.”
“Well, the Mafia don’t always come under our brief, Madam President.”
“You didn’t have any scruples about going after the Russian Mob in Paris last year, and I’ve never seen that in your brief. Would you like me to issue a presidential finding that would cover your ass?”
“Oh, madam, I don’t think that would be necessary.” He thought for a slim instant. “But if you have a moment to dictate something, it would be very helpful.”
“I’ll get it to you tomorrow, Lance. Now, you pull out all the stops, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good night, then.”
“Good night, ma’am.” He hung up the phone and found himself panting. Stone Barrington was going to be the death of him yet.
25
After rising the following morning Stone was in the library making notes for his call to Marcel when Dino came in with a bag of croissants and the International New York Times, formerly the International Herald Tribune.
“We’ve got some rethinking to do,” Dino said, tossing the newspaper into his lap.
Stone put down his pad and picked up the paper. A large headline occupied the upper right-hand corner of the front page:
TOP ITALIAN MAFIA COP ASSASSINATED IN ROME
“It happened when he was driving home from work last night,” Dino said. “He left the ministry with a driver in an armored Lancia. They were in rush hour traffic at a standstill, when a motorcycle pulled up beside them, and the guy on the backseat shoved a bomb under Massimo’s car. Apparently, the car wasn’t equipped to handle that. It blew about six feet into the air and broke in half. Massimo and his driver were both killed instantly.” He picked up the remote control and turned on the TV. In a moment he had found the BBC News channel, and they watched the footage from a security camera in the street as it played and replayed the explosion.
They listened to the report for a few minutes, then the news reader heard something in her earpiece, and she was handed a sheet of paper. “This just in,” she said. “Two top Italian Mafia leaders have this morning been gunned down almost simultaneously: one in Naples and one in Rome, the Italian DIA is reporting. Their names have not yet been released.” She moved on to another story, and Dino switched off the TV.
“That’s bad about Massimo,” Stone said. “My condolences.”
“He was a tough guy. I’m sorry they got to him before he got to them.”
“Do you have any idea who his successor will be?”
“I’m hoping it will be his deputy, Dante Fiore. He’s a good guy, too, and tough. What do you think about the two mafiosi who got it this morning?”
“What do you think?”
“I think Casselli has headed us off at the pass: he’s knocked off his chief government pursuer, the guy that you threatened him with, and he’s identified a couple of his cohorts that he thought might go for your reward, while sending a message to his other minions that defections will not be tolerated. The guy is some tactician.”
Stone’s phone rang. “Hello?”
“It’s Holly. I suppose you’ve heard the news about Signor Bertelli’s assassination?”
“Yes, I have. Dino and I just watched the explosion on the BBC. And did you hear that two top mafiosi were knocked off
this morning?”
“Yeah. What does that mean?”
“We think it’s a reaction by Casselli to my threat to post a reward on his head. Now he’s eliminated the people he thought might be vulnerable to the reward and sent all his other people a message. He’s smarter than I thought.”
“Yeah, he must be. I just talked to President Kate, and she told me about your conversation last night. She did that on her own, not at my suggestion. She also called Lance and lit a fire under him, so you’ll find the Italian station helpful, I expect.”
“Could you get her a message from me before she makes the call to Italy?”
“Sure.”
“Tell her that Dino, who knows the setup at the DIA, thinks Bertelli’s deputy, Dante Fiore, is the man to replace him. He has a very high opinion of the guy.”
“That’s a good call,” Holly said, “and she’ll appreciate Dino’s recommendation. She met both men when we were in Italy last year. I’m sure she’ll be glad to mention Fiore to the PM.”
“Thank her for me, will you?”
“Sure. Talk to you later.” Holly hung up.
“Dino,” Stone said, “why don’t you see if you can get through to Dante Fiore and give him our condolences? Maybe we can get some fresh intel from him.”
Dino sat down next to him, looked up a number in his iPhone, pressed the speaker button, and waited. “This is his direct line,” he said.
“Pronto,” a vigorous voice said.
“Dante, it’s Dino Bacchetti.”
“Hello, Dino! Good to hear from you.”
“I’m with my friend Stone Barrington, who Massimo may have told you about. We’ve just heard the news about Massimo, and we wanted to express our condolences.”
“Thank you, Dino, that’s very kind. I’ve been working this all night, and we’re sure it’s Casselli, though we can’t yet prove it. My thanks to you, too, Stone. I’m aware of your problems with Casselli and your hotel project, and I want you to know we’ll continue to watch over it.”
“Thank you, Dante.”
“By the way, I saw your video with Casselli early this morning, and I enjoyed it very much, seeing him squirm like that. You know about the two mafiosi in Naples and Rome who got hit this morning?”
“We just saw it on the BBC.”
“We here think that’s a result of your threat about the reward on your video, but even if nobody takes the reward, we’ve got two top guys out of the way, and that’s a win for us. It doesn’t replace Massimo, but it’s a win, and we’ll take all those we can get.”
“Dante,” Dino said, “I want you to know that Stone spoke to President Kate Lee last night. She’s calling your PM along about now, and he sent her a message this morning, mentioning your name.”
“That’s very good of you, Stone. I’m not sure I dare hope for the job, but I’d love to do it. Hang on a minute.” They could hear some muffled conversation, then Dante came back. “I’ve just had a message to see the PM in half an hour. I’ll call you back, if there’s anything new.” They gave him Stone’s number and let him go.
“Maybe you did some good this morning,” Dino said. “And maybe you’re digging your way out of the shit.”
“God, I hope so, I thought I had blown the whole thing to bits.”
“Just Massimo and the two hoods, and my guess is that Casselli already had plans to hit Massimo. It didn’t seem like an improvised attack.”
Stone’s phone rang again, and he reached out and pushed the speaker button. “Hello?”
“Stone, it’s Lance.”
“Good morning, Lance, you’re up early.”
“I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’ve been on the phone with the Rome station, making preparations for your return.”
26
Stone blinked. “My return?”
“We’d like you to go back to Rome tomorrow morning. I’ve spoken with Marcel duBois, and he’s happy to have you and your girl as his guests in his apartment over his offices. If Dino and Viv want to go, there’s room for them, too. I understand he has quite an establishment there. The building has already been secured by Strategic Services, and people from our Rome station will take an interest, too.”
“Why do you want me back there?”
“Do you remember your conversation with Rick about the goat and the lion?”
“Ah, yes.”
“Your girl doesn’t have to share that experience. We’ll do our best to protect her, if she goes back to Rome, but if she leaves the duBois building, she’ll be a target for kidnapping, or worse.”
“I’ll speak to her about that.”
“When you fly to Ciampino tomorrow, flight-plan for a noon arrival. You’ll be met on the ramp and directed to a secure hangar that we maintain there.”
“Thank you, Lance.”
“The head of our Rome station is Jim Lugano, a bilingual Italian American and a good man. He’ll meet you at the hangar with a secure vehicle, and you can talk about dealing with Casselli on the way into the city.”
“Fine.”
“Your debacle at Lipp seems to have turned into something of an advantage—you were always lucky, Stone. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
Marie came into the library with a tray of Dino’s croissants, butter, jam, and coffee, followed shortly by Hedy and Viv. Everybody said good morning, sat down, and dug into the pastries.
After breakfast, Dino stood up and beckoned to Viv. “We’re going to take a little walk,” he said. “We’ll talk more when we get back.” They left.
“I have a feeling we’ve been left alone for a talk,” Hedy said.
“Right. I have to go back to Rome tomorrow, and the best advice I can get is that you shouldn’t return to the city.”
She started to protest, but he held up a hand. “I’m moving into Marcel duBois’s apartment above his offices, and if you come you’ll be a virtual prisoner there. It’s thought by thoughtful people that in Rome you would be a target for kidnapping.”
Hedy made a gulping sound.
“Let me propose two alternatives: you can return to New York, or you can stay here, in this house, and paint. In either case, I’ll have the Rome apartment cleaned out and your things returned to New York, and I’ll take care of the rental charges there.”
She thought about it for a moment. “Well, if I can’t go with you, I think I’d prefer to stay in Paris and paint.”
“Casselli is tracking my phone, so tomorrow he’ll know that I’ve left Paris. Please wait until noon tomorrow, when I’ll be back in Rome, before you leave the house alone. I’ll ask Rick LaRose to have an eye kept on you, though you won’t be aware of it.”
She came over, sat in his lap, and kissed him. “Thank you,” she said.
—
Dino and Viv came back a few minutes later. “We’ve both talked with our offices, and we’re going back to Rome with you. Viv is going to work with Mike Freeman on security there, and the mayor is going to let me take a few days for consultation with the Rome police on coordinating their operation against Casselli. While we were out, Dante Fiore called. The Italian prime minister has appointed him as Massimo’s replacement. The announcement will be made this afternoon.”
“That’s good news.”
“He tells me that the killing of Massimo and the phone call from the president to the Italian PM have helped concentrate the minds of the government, and maybe even the legislature, when it comes to measures to deal with the Mafia there. That can only be a good thing.”
“How much do you know about how the Italians have been dealing with their Mafia?”
“Only what Massimo told me in a meeting in New York and in a few phone calls. These were about his plans, and not enough time has passed for them to have taken effect, so they’ll be starting from scratch with Dante, albeit with Mas
simo’s outline for his plans. Dante is going to ride in with us from the airport tomorrow, so he can tell us what his first moves are going to be.”
“The head of the Agency’s Rome station will be with us, too. His name is Jim Lugano, and I expect he already knows Dante.”
“Maybe you’ll get your tsunami after all,” Dino said.
27
Stone lined up on the runway at Ciampino and set the CJ3+ down gently. As he turned off the runway a cart turned into his path with a flashing sign on the back saying: “Follow Me.” Stone did so, and a lineman directed him to park in front of a large hangar. A large black Mercedes van pulled up to the airplane and waited. Stone saw two uniformed Italian policemen carrying automatic weapons standing guard at the van.
Stone, Dino, and Viv deplaned and retrieved their luggage from the airplane, then Stone locked it and got into the Mercedes with the others. The large compartment was set up as a conference table, and introductions were made. Jim Lugano was tall, thin, black-haired, and appeared to be in his early forties. He sported a dense mustache and was dressed in an obviously Italian suit. Dante Fiore was a solidly built six-footer with a thick neck and broad shoulders with short black hair. He pumped Stone’s hand and welcomed him back to Rome.
“I hope your visit will be more peaceful than your last,” he said. “And let me say, I’m glad your girlfriend chose to remain in Paris. We were not looking forward to protecting her while she painted in Rome.”
“You are very well informed,” Stone replied.
Dante took immediate control of their meeting. “I have spent two hours today meeting with the heads of half a dozen police divisions, and now each of them is back in his office, plotting with his staff to see how many ways they can harass the Casselli family and the others. Here are a few things we are already doing. One, vehicles identified as belonging to the families and their associates will be routinely followed and many of them stopped by the police for an examination of the vehicles and their documentation. Minor traffic and document infractions will be punished. Two, all known Mafia members with the rank of capo and above will be surveilled, with no attempt to hide our attentions. We want them to feel harassed. Warrants are being prepared to tap the telephones of those key men that are not already tapped, and noises will be made on the lines to let them know we’re listening. And, of course, you will be glad to know, Stone, that we have posted large notices in certain neighborhoods in Naples and Rome that a five-million-euro reward and a new passport and resettlement help is being offered to anyone with information that can put Casselli in prison.”