Chapter Seventeen
Thief
I woke up the next morning to the smell of hot coffee. I got out of bed and pulled on my clothes and headed down to the kitchen where I found Barzini fussing around with an old-fashioned coffeepot. He nodded at me without any kind of surprise and waved me to the table. Besides coffee there was toast, jam, fruit, and several different kinds of cold cuts. It was a typical European breakfast, absent the sugary cereals or heavy flapjacks that populated American tables in the morning.
“Danny called me this morning,” my host said. “He said there was a huge ruckus downtown, but it seems to have quieted down. Also, most of the noise on the television and with the cops is focused on the police chief.”
“Oh?” I asked in all innocence.
“He thinks it’s safe for you to go h
