Leo glanced across the street and saw one of the local pushers plying his trade. A succession of people came up to him for their small packages of short-lived heaven. If ever there was a procession of the damned, this was it. Skinny, hollow-eyed men, some almost in rags, appeared every few minutes, and even at this distance he could see the despair and poverty imprinted on their faces. It was all the usual stuff: rotten graveyard teeth, deeply furrowed faces, hair like wet dogs – if they had hair at all, that is – and most with the same shuffling, furtive gait. And then, in the midst of all this, a smartly dressed young man turned up, nervously looking over his shoulder as he received his order. Drugs knew no boundaries.
In a lull in proceedings, the pusher looked across at Leo’s car, then at Leo himself and recognised him. The man made off very quickly, leaving one customer disappointed. There was no need for the dealer to worry, Leo thought with some bitterness – the local narcotics boys had long since given up on small fry like him. He was part of a plague, a recognised part of street life in this area of the city. Trying to control it had proved futile, but seeing the man in action had focused Leo’s mind because people like Salim Mandretta put men like this on the streets, first infected and then used.
Leo picked up his phone to call Carlo.
‘Boss? It’s Leo. Look, I need to talk to you. About something big.’
‘Yes, I thought you might,’ said Carlo on the other end of the line.
‘You did?’
‘I ran into your dentist Andretti a few hours ago. Had a coffee with him. Nice man.’
‘Oh.’
‘Don’t come into the office, Leo. Meet me at the Green Parrot.’
Five determined women checked their weapons. Only Adelina carried a Magnum. She was the only one who had hands big enough to use it properly. At close to six feet she was an imposing figure, and almost supernaturally tall for a Sicilian woman. Her size confirmed her as a natural leader, and she had the character to back it up.
Marianna rechecked the magazine of her Glock, as did Adriana, Chiara and Gabriella. They looked formidable and menacing in their matching black leather jackets and pants, and once their masks were securely in place no one would have thought they were women – apart from Marianna perhaps, as she was tiny compared to the other girls.
Adelina gathered her crew into a huddle. ‘What happened at Satisfaction was the start of our campaign,’ she said. ‘It was a good start, it’s got everyone in the city jumping, and that’s exactly what we want if there’s going to be any hope of real change here. Let the Mafia blame the Camorra, and the Camorra blame the ’Ndrangheta . . . Let all the rats start to tear at each other in their foul sack.’
There was a murmur of approval and Marianna felt herself joining in. She was swept away with excitement and purpose and imagined the faces of all the men who had used her being destroyed by the bullets of her gun; each manipulative face disintegrating as she sent it to Hell. Suddenly, Adelina hugged Marianna to her, almost enveloping her in her much larger frame.
‘Are you ready to go, my little gypsy? I feel your need.’
Marianna’s eyes flashed as she yelled ‘Yes!’ and responded to the kiss Adelina gave her. The other girls smiled their approval as her relationship with Adelina was recognised and approved.
‘Right then,’ Adelina said. ‘Put your masks on and let’s go. And remember, all of you, Paradiso used to be owned by Sali Frandelli before he went down, and now Mandretta’s got it, so we’re striking at two of the worst bastards that ever lived in Palermo. Men who have destroyed hundreds of women in their lousy lives.’
They planned to hit the Paradiso nightclub just after midnight. Adelina had researched and planned this hit in great detail, and she knew the place from the time she had been there as part of a police raid. It had been an ineffectual action that had been just for show. In her years on the force, nothing had seemed to change much. Adelina had grown tired of the endless fight against crime – and ultimately the futility of it all.
In a period off work, amid the increasing loneliness and isolation she felt in her private life, Adelina had begun to form a plan. There had been a female criminal gang in Sicily that had been finally brought to justice a year before. They were almost as bad as the Mafiosi, but as much as Adelina had been appalled that women could sink to such depths, she had also been impressed by their ruthless efficiency. So she’d thought to use some of her own skills in a way that would get results. She didn’t care if the morality of her actions was highly questionable – she had obeyed the rules for years and that had led nowhere. So Adelina had recruited a force of like-minded women, and each one knew what she was about. It had never occurred to her to approach any men.
Unlike Satisfaction, Paradiso was in a smart part of town, so Adelina knew they would have to tread carefully. An innocent member of the public accidently getting killed would be a disaster. This time, they would all go in through the club’s back entrance.
They parked a block away and walked in pairs to their target, leaving Gabriella in the car as getaway driver. There was a rear alley behind Paradiso, where staff entered and sometimes a punter who was too famous to be seen out front. Adelina knew there was no CCTV there but they kept in the shadows anyway, appearing like ghouls out of the darkness when they neared the dim light of the back of the club.
As Marianna became Berlusconi she felt herself change. The adrenaline that was making her heart race calmed and she became focused on what was about to happen, gripping her Glock tightly and gently easing off the safety catch. Adelina took a small Beretta from her handbag and fitted the suppressor to it. The Magnum was concealed under her leather jacket, ready and waiting for action like the metal beast it was.
Making sure the others were well hidden, Adelina rang the service doorbell. She had a pretty good idea who would answer it, and she was right. Paolo Forcione – pimp, sleazebag, drug runner and one of Mandretta’s inner circle – opened the door with a smile. Adelina knew that a ring at the rear door at this time of night meant someone special was calling – maybe a judge, or even a bishop – and that Paolo would push a lackey out of the way and hasten to answer it. Ever ready to suck arse, was Paolo.
Adelina shot him in the centre of his forehead without saying anything. It was an instant execution she thought was justified. A round from the Magnum would have disintegrated his skull, but the Beretta’s smaller bullet just nestled in Paulo’s skull without passing through. It was still good enough to kill him. Paolo sank down slowly, as if looking for a chair to sit on, and his welcoming smile seemed reluctant to leave his face.
‘One down,’ Adelina murmured. ‘Right, you all know what to do. Mari, you stay close to me.’
Adelina knew that all the clubs would have beefed up their security and every gang in the city was looking over their shoulder, which was exactly the effect she wanted. She might be creating her own war here, and she was not sure how it would all work out, but there was no going back now. All other options had been tried in her working life, and the treatment of women by the island’s criminal world had worsened year after year – as her own feminism had grown. The irony was not lost on Adelina.
Adelina unleashed the Magnum and destroyed the small camera that was swivelling towards her. The women entered the main area of the club, which was already quickly emptying. The group gathered in the centre of the room in the defensive square Adelina had taught them, so their weapons could cover all angles.
As men streamed from the many small rooms of Paradiso, Adelina was not quick enough in spotting one of the bodyguards among them. A young slim man stepped away from the crowd and started firing. Adelina felt something whine past her head, perhaps even grazing her mask on the way. The man could not have been very experienced to expose himself like this, and Adelina took him down with two body shots. He crumpled into a heap on the floor, causing some of the middle-aged men behind him to fall to the ground.
‘Look at them – they’re like stinking rats leaving a
sinking ship,’ Marianna cried out jubilantly.
If there were any other armed guards here, they had made themselves scarce – as had all the punters and staff.
‘We’ve got about two minutes,’ Adelina shouted. ‘Just enough time to talk to some of the girls here.’
The four vigilantes went looking for their sisters – Marianna especially. If she could get just one girl away from this, it would be worth it. In the three rooms she visited, she saw mirror images of her old self. They were mainly girls from Eastern Europe, with small bodies and wasted faces. How far away was this from the glossy fantasies of pornography?
‘You can all get away from this!’ Adelina shouted at the terrified girls. Suddenly, she removed her mask, surprising the others and amazing the prostitutes. ‘Look, I’m a woman just like you,’ she said. We are all women, and I’m saying that you can get away from all this – and even join us in our war, if you want.’
Adelina did not get the response she needed. A six-foot woman dressed all in black with a smoking Magnum in her hand was totally unreal to these girls; a creature from a world outside their understanding.
As Marianna saw the terrified faces of the girls looking up at Adelina from their grubby, cot-like beds when doors were opened, she understood this well – for this had been the life she’d lived under Guido for four years. Her escape had been a miracle, and each one of these girls would need their own miracle. For the first time, Marianna doubted the effects of the vigilantes’ work. She liked the revenge part, and the sense of power it gave her, but she doubted now that they could really do anything other than kill a few scumbags.
‘Well, just try to get away from here then,’ Adelina said, putting Barack Obama back on. ‘We’ve killed a few of the men who controlled you.’
This was wishful thinking. When the four women went back to the main area of the club, someone opened up on them from the bar and Chiara went down instantly. Like the well-drilled machine they were, the others emptied their weapons at the source of the shots, and the last bodyguard-cum-pimp-cum-Mafioso had no chance.
‘Everyone out!’ Adelina shouted, her voice so strong it almost raised her mask.
They pulled Chiara upright, and she moaned in pain as she was dragged along. As they exited the rear of the club and their getaway car screeched to a halt to receive them, they could hear police sirens approaching. They would have only seconds to escape, but Gabriella at the wheel was one of the best drivers there had ever been in the police force, and she knew every inch of the city’s roads.
Chiara was bundled into the back of the car, where she slumped against Marianna in a semi-conscious state. Adelina sat on the other side of her, cursing her carelessness tonight. She had been too keen to talk to the Paradiso girls. She should have secured the club first. She had acted like a rookie cop, and Chiara had paid the price.
Blood was seeping from Chiara’s chest into her black jacket, and to Marianna it seemed like the jacket was melting.
‘Talk to her,’ Adelina said. ‘Don’t let her slip away. Keep her awake.’
Marianna wanted to cry as she felt Chiara’s blood oozing out over her hands, but she knew that would never do. As police vehicles converged outside Paradiso, Gabriella gunned the engine, surging through traffic as if it wasn’t there. Then they were safely away into the Palermo night, just another speeding vehicle in this racetrack of a city.
Carlo sat impassively as Leo fiddled with his espresso, the small cup dwarfed by his plate-sized hands. Carlo noted the beads of sweat that were appearing on Leo’s forehead and the slight shaking of his still-bulky body.
‘You’re taking your time in getting around to it,’ Carlo said.
‘Yeah well, it’s not easy, boss. I thought I’d be telling you one thing but now there’s two, and the second is a real lulu and it’s doing my head in.’
‘Am I not going to like this?’
Leo looked down at his coffee and nodded. A waiter approached and fussed around their table, which was at the back of the Green Parrot bar, a place that had seen better days but retained a faded elegance.
‘Nice to see you again, gentlemen,’ the waiter said. ‘Wasn’t that attack awful? I hope we aren’t going back to the old days.’ The waiter bent his head closer to the table. ‘Of course, as long as it’s just Mafia clubs, I suppose it’s not so bad.’
Carlo was no closer to knowing who was responsible for the raid. So far, only gangsters masquerading as nightclub workers had been killed. Carlo had pored over what CCTV images they had, and it was obvious the very professional hit-team had been careful not to hurt anyone else, which was strange behaviour in Palermo. Usually as many innocent people as intended victims were killed when there were incidents like this – mown down in the careless hail of bullets that were unleashed.
Why were these clubs being targeted? They were an established part of life in Palermo, as in most European cities, and usually caused no bother. There had not been any signs of tensions among the underworld groups involved in this, so Carlo was baffled. The Satisfaction and Paradiso attacks had been carried out by the same men, that was obvious – but for what reason?
The waiter sidled off, spraying and polishing his way around the mostly empty tables in the bar. He had a point, Carlo thought – fighting among the criminal underworld was not the worst thing in the world, but Carlo knew it would soon escalate. ‘I’m all ears, Leo.’
Leo sucked in his breath, sat up straight in his chair, took a last sip of his coffee and said, ‘I had a meet with Salim Mandretta.’
‘You know him?’
‘We grew up in the same part of the city. By the time I was ten Mandretta was already making his mark – where we lived, anyway. I supposed I looked up to him, like any other kid in the neighbourhood. After my father went we were stuck there, my mother and me, and he got us out. He pulled strings like no one legit ever could and got us the apartment we have now. He liked to make grand gestures even then, and you could say he got me where I am now, boss, though I doubt that was ever his intention.’
‘Cut to the chase, Leo. Where’s this heading?’
‘He wants the favour repaid now. You know how it is with debts here.’
Carlo nodded. ‘Is this connected to that shot someone took at you?’
‘Yeah, that was just Mandretta’s way of getting my attention. He’s always done crazy things like that, so at least we’ve solved that case. Salim’s like that – he’s a wild, joking kind of man.’
‘But you didn’t know anything, so there was nothing you could tell him, right?’
‘He showed me a photo they’d pulled from a Satisfaction camera, one we never had.’ Leo paused and rubbed a large hand over his face, which was now shining with sweat. ‘You remember Adelina Cervi in Homicide? She hasn’t worked for nearly a year now.’
‘Tall girl, quite a looker?’
‘Yeah, that’s the one.’
‘So?’
Leo paused again, and looked with some despair at his empty coffee cup.
‘It was her in that photo, boss – Adelina Cervi, as I live and breathe. Standing in that club with what looks like a Magnum in her hand, in a get-up straight out of a movie. She’d raised her mask for a second, just long enough for her to be snapped. Mandretta’s men must have got to the camera before us. The photo was pretty grainy but I recognised her straight off.’
‘Did you tell Mandretta that?’
‘Of course not. I blagged it – I think. But he knew she was a cop because that sleazebag Marco also recognised her. The bastard was cowering behind his bar. Shame Adelina didn’t whack him too. Marco didn’t know her name, though.’
Carlo’s relief was audible. ‘There would have been no way back for you if you’d told him, Leo.’
‘I know. I love this job, boss, but the old ways die hard. To be a man in Palermo, debts always have to be repaid, especially with the Mafia. They’ll come after a man twenty years later if he’s ripped them off, even if it’s only a few euros. No one
forgives here and no one forgets.’
Leo stopped talking and spread his hands in a mixture of contrition and despair.
‘You need a drink,’ Carlo said. ‘We both do.’
Carlo beckoned over the waiter and ordered two large whiskies.
‘So they don’t know who Adelina is and they want you to find out?’ Carlo said.
Leo nodded. ‘Adelina was a good officer. I worked with her a few times before you came down here. She didn’t think a lot of her fellow cops – the men, that is – and she got bitter and moody. That’s why she went off with stress and they say she’ll never come back now. Mandretta would probably have found out who she was if she was still serving, but Adelina being off work for such a long time has made it harder for him. When Adelina left she just dropped out of sight, went totally off the radar. God knows what she was ever doing in our wonderful police force in the first place.’
‘So you give Mandretta the name and your debt is repaid?’
‘Yeah.’
The waiter approached with the drinks. Leo drank most of his in one gulp.
Carlo did not know how to proceed. As an outsider he saw all this ‘debt and honour’ stuff as childish nonsense, but it seemed to be ingrained in the souls of Sicilian men. Carlo sipped his own drink, wincing slightly as it burned its way down his throat.
‘Where did you meet with Mandretta?’ Carlo said, after at least a minute of silence.
‘At his place in Mondello, that pile he has on the seafront there. Don’t worry, no one saw me. I went the most roundabout way I could.’
‘This was when you were “at the dentist”?’
Leo nodded like a guilty child, then finished his drink. Carlo knew he’d want another.
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