“Peacetime makes men nervous,” the Albino notes. “Senza tentazioni, senza onore. Let them come. They do not frighten me. I just wish I was there when they attacked you at the house.”
“Yeah,” Durante grunts. The big man’s eyebrows furrow. “The f*****g nerve of that. Nario Sartori’s f*****g house. They must be crazy.”
I fold my hands on the desk. “I assume there have been no more Italian-Irish alliances since Santo met his unfortunate end?”
Maury chuckles viciously. “The message was sent loud and clear, Carlo.”
“Good. And what about the Elephant? A man like him, his footstep should be large, easily spotted. Any luck?”
Durante shakes his head. “No. He’s a ghost. Might be worth asking the man downstairs.”
“We’ll do that.” Nario raises an eyebrow at me. Now? he’s asking.
I nod, waving a
