‘I want to know the answer. Whoever did this is a dead man,’ said Vittore.
Bella took a swig of the drink. It warmed her, but not enough to reach the chill that had settled over her soul as Vittore spoke. Vittore wanted revenge. He wanted to find who had killed Tito, and take vengeance on them. But that would place him, Vittore, her favourite boy, in danger. She didn’t want that. She had just lost one son. She didn’t want to lose another, most particularly not the one who was so precious to her.
‘There is something I have to say to you both,’ she told them.
‘Oh? What is it, Mama?’ asked Fabio.
Bella looked from one to the other. Vittore so masculine, so imposing; Fabio so handsome. Her boys. Then her eyes dropped to Fabio’s grazed and bloody knuckles. She guessed that someone had paid for bringing bad news to Fabio; this was the way it worked in the Camorra.
‘It could have been anyone who did this,’ she said shakily. ‘One of the establishment, someone Tito crossed over a business deal or a woman.’
‘Tito crossed a lot of people,’ agreed Fabio.
‘It could have been Miller – Michael Ward’s number one,’ said Vittore. ‘Maybe he believed we carried out the hit on his boss. That’s a possibility.’
‘Or it could have been any one of a dozen others,’ said Bella tiredly, shaking her head. When her eyes met Vittore’s again they were full of command. ‘Now I’m telling you. Both of you. There will be no reprisals. I won’t have more bloodshed.’
‘But Miller-’ said Vittore.
‘We don’t know who did this,’ said Bella, steel in her voice.
‘Mama-’ started Vittore, coming to his feet.
‘No!’ Bella stood up too. The fists she rested on the table were shaking, but her eyes flashed with fire. ‘I’ve lost one child this night, do you think I will risk another? I mean it, Vittore. No reprisals.’
Fabio drank down his brandy and eyed the two of them, staring at each other across the table.
‘Swear to me,’ said Bella.
‘What…?’ Vittore was almost twitching with suppressed aggression.
‘Swear it,’ she repeated, glancing down at Fabio.
He shrugged. ‘All right, Mama. If it means that much to you, I swear. No reprisals.’
Her gaze turned to Vittore. ‘And you? Vittore?’ she prompted.
He heaved a sigh. ‘No reprisals, Mama. I swear, all right? I swear it.’
Bella nodded. After a second she sank back into her chair. Looked at her boys, her two remaining living sons, and asked herself, Are they lying, to please me?
She suspected they were. But she had done this much. She thought of Kit Miller, and
