Devoir

4

4

“I think it worked,” Don Faenza said. “No message has been sent from the moon; Laro didn’t go viral. I think Trullo got him. Maybe we should check it out, Paolo?”

“How? Let’s say we restore communication now and they don’t have Laro yet. Then his message still goes viral. And as long as we don’t know what the content of his message is…”

“Hmm. You’re right. Too bad, I could use some good news.” Giorgio Faenza filled two glasses. “Let’s drink to the happy ending,” he chuckled contentedly. “Dalmore Selene, whiskey from 1951… What are you grinning at? Curious how I got this?”

“No. Actually, I’m not surprised by anything anymore. I know you can have anything you want, Don. Even here in this backwater of the universe.”

“That’s what I’m talking about. This ancient whiskey is named after Dalmore Selena, the goddess of the moon. And you know why? Because sunlight burns but moonlight keeps shining.” Giorgio Faenza held his glass to the light. “Only thirty bottles of this whiskey were made that year. The taste is described as heavenly with a touch of mandarin, grapefruit and lemon.” He carefully took a sip and let the drink roll over his tongue.

“I didn’t know that,” Paolo said, still grinning.

“Okay, let’s get this over with, Paolo. What’s so funny?”

“That total carelessness of yours… Donny Boy… That’s what I laugh about.”

Don Faenza put his glass on the antique walnut desk. “What did you say?”

“That you’re so carefree. Arrogant,” Paolo said. “And that’s not right.”

Paolo’s words seemed to pass him by. “What did you call me? Donny boy?”

Paolo laughed loudly. “Well, you are just a boy, aren’t you, Giorgio?

Faenza’s face was involved. “It’s that you haven’t taken a sip yet, otherwise I’d think the booze has gone to your head.”

“No Giorgio. You thought you should fear Djay Laro. Laro; the renegade. The roach who’d rat you to the Feds.”

Giorgio stared at Paolo with his mouth open. “I hope you have a spontaneous brain hemorrhage Paolo, otherwise I might just have to get you one. Who the hell do you think you are to talk to me like that?”

“Who am I? I’ll explain that to you in detail. I’m the only man here who knows everything about this organization, Giorgio. What about you? You’re a fringe moron who’s afraid of the wrong people. Djay Laro… Ha! Don’t make me laugh.”

Giorgio opened the top drawer of his desk.

“What are you doing? Are you looking for this?” asked Paolo. He held up a laser weapon. “Even for this you’re too cowardly Donny. You need others to protect you. And we both know that good old Reggie is not here.”

“What do you want?” said Giorgio Faenza nervously.

Paolo frowned. “What do I want? I already have everything, Donny,” he said, complacently. “And you’ve lost everything. Because that message… There’s no such thing. Or, um, I’m actually saying that Laro’s message doesn’t exist. Mine is. And that’s just been sent.”

You son of a b***h! Giorgio Faenza flew at Paolo. With a well-tuned thud from his right fist, Paolo knocked his attacker away. Giorgio fell backwards. He came hard with his back against the edge of the antique desk, slowly collapsed and remained on the ground.

“Crybaby,” Paolo grinned. “The Feds will pick you up later. And you know what the best part is? That there is only one man who can exonerate you.”

“Reggie Trullo,” Giorgio sighed.

“Nope,” Paolo said smugly. “Djay Laro.”