‘Honour?’ I laughed wildly. ‘Didn’t you realise that Burke would have to kill me because he knew I’d never stand by and see them murder the girl? That you, by your silence, were sending me to my death as surely as Hoffer?’
‘But I had no choice, don’t you see?’ he said patiently. ‘Listen and try to understand, Stacey. The Council gave Hoffer time-time to recoup their money and how he did that was of no particular concern. They expected either cash on the barrel on the due date or his head-nothing less. But once a member has been given time he is entitled to follow his operation through without interference from within the Society. If I had warned you that he intended to have the girl killed, urged you to prevent it, I would have been guilty of breaking one of the oldest of Mafia laws.’
‘Death at last for Vito Barbaccia, is that what you are saying?’
‘Death?’ He seemed genuinely surprised. ‘You think that frightens me? But I thought I had made it clear to you? The rules are there for all to obey, even the capo. Without them we are nothing. They are the strength of the Society, the reason we have survived. Oh no, Stacey, he who breaks the rules deserves to die-must die.’
It occurred to me for the briefest of moments that I might be going out of my head. I was moving into an unknown country now with attitudes and rules of be-haviour as archaic and formalised as a Court of Chivalry in the Middle Ages.
Thinking was an effort, but I managed to say, ‘It still doesn’t hang together. I didn’t know Hoffer was Mafia, but he knew I was your grandson and I made it clear to Burke that I had discussed our mission with you.’
‘But why should that worry him? The story of his stepdaughter’s kidnapping was acceptable enough, in-cluding his reasons for handling it quietly and the thought that his story about the money from the trust fund had been accepted by everyone including me. What could this affair of the Truscott girl have to do with that?’
Which made enough sense to get by. Certainly it was as acceptable an explanation as anything else that had been offered to me in this nightmare world of Mafia politics.
‘Which still leaves us with the fact that you could have warned me,’ I said slowly. ‘You could have given me some kind of an idea of what was going on, told me at least that Hoffer was Mafia on that first night when I discussed things with you.’
‘Only by breaking our law, Stacey, and that I could not do. Hoffer knew that and I had everything to gain by remaining silent. It was Hoffer who brought you into the affair, Hoffer and this man Burke who lied to you. If you turned against them, Hoffer could blame no one but himself.’
‘This Council of yours might have other ideas,’ I said. ‘They might find it difficult to believe that your grandson wasn’t working under your direct orders.’
‘Which remains to be seen,’ he said. ‘But you must come to the meeting, Stacey, and see for yourself. It should be rather amusing.’
‘Amusing!’ If I had been close enough I think I might have struck him at the moment. ‘I could have been killed up there, don’t you understand? I loved you-I’ve always loved you in spite of everything and you sent me to my death without a word for the sake of a few stupid archaic rules-a game for schoolboys with no sense to it.’
He frowned. ‘To your death, Stacey-you really be-lieve that?’ He laughed harshly. ‘Yes, all right. I was going to keep you out that first night when you came to see me, by force if necessary. But then I talked to my grandson-saw him in action, saw him for what he was, mafioso just like his grandfather, only better. And this Burke, this hollow man, this dead thing walking with the grave stench already on him-you think I be-lieve my grandson couldn’t handle him?’
His voice had dropped to a hoarse whisper and he leaned close to me, one hand on the edge of the bed to support his weight. I stared at him, hypnotised.