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Alfredo was walking irregularly as though he was the worst for drink. He went up to Vitelli’s desk and launched into a torrent of excited Italian. Ben was able to pick out the words “Papa” and “Francesca” and he guessed that at last the man had begun to realise a little of what the Vitelli were doing to his family.
Mancino Vitelli appeared to be largely disinterested in Alfredo’s excited denunciation. The gun in his hand was pointing vaguely in the direction of the younger man’s stomach but it was completely unheeded by his son-in-law.
The long tirade was only silenced by the creak of the door opening again. Ben turned to see Dino entering the room, followed by the two bodyguards. Guido crossed the room in two strides, caught Alfredo by the arm and thrust him into a chair beside Ben. But everybody’s eyes were on Dino.
Ben realised as he looked at him that he had hurt the fellow more than he had thought. Dino was bent double with the pain to his stomach. He was supported on both sides by the toughs. He looked as white as a sheet except for the area of flesh around his mouth which was badly bruised and swollen. When he spoke it was with a peevish but muffled squeak.
He complained long and bitterly to his father about the attack. Ben could see the sense of outrage growing on Vitelli’s face as he listened. He also noticed the way that Guido was fingering the blade of his knife. Ben had a feeling that the next few minutes were going to be acutely uncomfortable for him. Surreptitiously he began to edge forward in his seat. He made as if to scratch his back as he felt for the little gun which Donna had loaned to him.
Vitelli turned to face him. “Did you do this?” He indicated his son with a sweep of his hand.
Ben nodded.
“I want to watch him pay for it,” complained Dino in painful English.
The capofamiglia pointed at Ben. “You are bad news for the Vitelli,” he hissed. “I do not want you round any longer than is necessary. In a minute I will give you to Guido to play with. But first I want something from you. If you give it to me quickly then I shall tell Guido to be quick with you. If not, I will let him take as long as he wants. I warn you that he can take a very long time to strip the skin off a man with that little knife of his.”
Ben gulped down a spurt of fear. “What are you talking about,” he asked. “You haven’t told me yet what it is that I’m supposed to have of yours.”
“Ah, but I think you know.”
“I’ve got no idea what you want. What makes you think that I’ve got something?”
Vitelli half-closed his eyes as he looked down his nose at him. The image reminded Ben of some of the paintings he had seen of Napoleon, but in paler colours. “I know you have it. You showed it to old Emilio. That is how you got into the Villa Cimbrone.”
He reached down and opened his desk drawer. He put down the gun and lifted out a small object. “It is one of these. This is the mark of the Vitelli. This means death to anybody who holds it without the right.” He held up a twin to the one which nestled in Ben’s pocket.
Ben had just succeeded in removing his gun from the holster in his belt and releasing the safety catch. He let it lie on the chair seat and sat back on it. It was hard and painful but very comforting. It gave him renewed courage.
“I found a thing like that on the body of Toni Cimbrone,” he said accusingly. “His throat had been cut. I think it was you who ordered that.”
“He had found out too much.” Vitelli did not attempt to deny it. He must have been feeling completely secure. “He had also stolen a very important thing of mine. I think that now you have it.”
“Not any more,” lied Ben. “I must have left it around somewhere. I thought it was just a piece of pretty metal.”
Vitelli spoke very slowly. “I regret that I do not believe you. I think that you know more than you admit about this token. Why else would you show it to Emilio to get you safe passage into the Villa Cimbrone?”
“It just came out when I put my hand in my pocket.”
“Why don’t you put your hand in your pocket now and let me have it,” said Vitelli. “It may save you from the same treatment as your partner.”
Ben did as he was told. He reached around and brought his hand out empty. “It’s not there. I must have left it at the hotel or dropped it somewhere.”
“Perhaps Guido can help you find it.” Vitelli nodded at the hood who advanced towards him.
The thought of the sharp little knife galvanized Ben into activity. He jumped to his feet. “All right. I don’t want the damn thing.”
He pulled it out of his pocket and tossed it at Vitelli. Reacting to the tension of the moment he tossed it harder and higher than he had intended. The capofamiglia put up his hand to shield himself but he was not quick enough. The badge struck him sharply on the cheek-bone and rebounded against the panelling before falling at Dino’s feet.
With a weird fascination Ben watched a droplet of blood trickle down Vitelli’s face. The man’s hand went to the cut. He took it away and stared down at his blood-smirched hand. Like an automaton he sat back heavily in his chair, still staring at it.
“The Wolf of Hades,” he gasped hoarsely and his brown face turned as white as a sheet. His eyes rose to look at Ben and the fury came pouring back into them. He pointed an accusing finger.
“Kill him,” he shouted.
Out of the corner of his eye Ben saw Guido moving to attack him. The knife arm was swinging wide for the thrust. Ben half-turned to meet the onslaught. His hands were ready to grab the arm when he was attacked. But at that second a shot rang out and everything froze.
The only movement was from Mancino Vitelli who toppled slowly back in his chair. There was a neat black hole in the middle of his forehead and his face bore the startled look of a man staring at his own death.
Ben spun round. Alfredo had half-risen from his chair. He had Donna’s pistol in his hand and a small spiral of smoke rose from the barrel. Then, as Ben watched, Guido suddenly changed the line of his attack and buried his knife up to the hilt in Alfredo’s stomach.
That change of direction was all Ben needed. His weight was already moving forward to meet the expected blow from Guido. Now he grabbed the hood by the knife-arm and carried him backwards into the face of the other two gangsters. The three of them crashed backwards over several chairs and disappeared under the table. There was the sound of several things breaking. Ben fervently hoped that it included a few of the gangsters’ limbs.
He knew that he had to move quickly now if they were to get away or he would be overwhelmed. Dino was turning to face him as he let go of the hood’s arm. He saw Ben charging at him and dived frantically for the sanctuary provided by the desk. He caught the side of his head on the top as he fell. With a clear path, Ben scooped up the Vitelli emblem from the floor and made for the door.
He grasped the ornate handle, swung the door open and crashed into Sylvia. He grabbed her before she fell. She let out a little cry but did nothing to obstruct his passage. Ben looked back to where Alfredo was lying doubled up on the floor.
“Look after your husband,” he said. “He needs you.”
She rushed forward and bent over his body. Ben couldn’t tell how badly hurt the man was, but he knew there was nothing he could do personally to help him. To stop now would endanger Francesca and Papa.
As he looked back he saw the first thug emerging from under the table. Ben waited no longer. He slammed the door shut behind him and made off down the corridor.
The Mafia Emblem Page 50