“Only because I had no idea what he and my brothers were really like. When I found out—” She shuddered. “You don’t know what it was like. I wanted to get away, but there was no escape for me.”
“I didn’t understand.” He patted her hand. “I’m afraid I misjudged you, my dear.”
“I was terrified of him.” Her voice was filled with passion.
Judge Buscetta noticed, not for the first time, what a beautiful young woman Lucia was. She was wearing a simple black dress that revealed the outlines of her lush body. He looked at her rounded breasts and could not help observing how grown up she had become.
It would be amusing, Buscetta thought, to sleep with the daughter of Angelo Carmine. He’s powerless to hurt me now. The old bastard thought he owned me, but I was too smart for him. Lucia is probably a virgin. I could teach her a few things in bed
An elderly housekeeper brought in a tray of tea and a platter of cookies. She put them on a table. “Shall I pour?”
“Let me,” Lucia said. Her voice was warm and filled with promise.
Judge Buscetta smiled at Lucia. “You can go,” he told the housekeeper.
“Yes, sir.”
The judge watched as Lucia walked over to the small table where the tray had been set down and carefully poured out tea for the judge and herself.
“I have a feeling you and I could become very good friends, Lucia,” Giovanni Buscetta said, probing.
Lucia gave him a seductive smile. “I would like that very much, Your Honor.”
“Please—Giovanni.”
“Giovanni.” Lucia handed him his cup. She raised her cup in a toast. ‘To the death of villains.”
Smiling, Buscetta lifted his cup. “To the death of villains.” He took a swallow and grimaced. The tea tasted bitter.
“Is it too—?”
“No, no. It is fine, my dear.”
Lucia raised her cup again. “To our friendship.”
She took another sip, and he joined her.
“To—”
Buscetta never finished his toast. He was seized by a sudden spasm, and he felt a red-hot poker stabbing at his heart. He grabbed his chest. “Oh, my God! Call a doctor…”
Lucia sat there, calmly sipping her tea, watching the judge stumble to his feet and fall to the floor. He lay there, his body twitching, and then he was still.
“That’s one, Papa,” Lucia said.
Benito Patas was in his cell playing solitaire when the jailer announced, “You have a conjugal visitor.”
Benito beamed. He had been given special status as an informer, with many privileges, and conjugal visits was one of them. Patas had half a dozen girlfriends, and they alternated their visits. He wondered which one had come today.
He studied himself in the little mirror hanging on the wall of his cell, put some pomade on his hair, slicked it back, then followed the guard through the prison corridor to the section where there were private rooms.
The guard motioned him inside. Patas strutted into the room, filled with anticipation. He stopped and stared in surprise.
“Lucia! My God, what the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?”
Lucia said softly, “I told them we were engaged, Benito.”
She was wearing a stunning red low-cut silk dress that clung to the curves of her body.
Benito Patas backed away from her. “Get out.”
“If you wish. But there is something you should hear first. When I saw you get up on the stand and testify against my father and brothers, I hated you. I wanted to kill you.” She moved closer to him. “But then I realized that what you were doing was an act of bravery. You dared to stand up and tell the truth. My father and my brothers were not evil men, but they did evil things, and you were the only one strong enough to stand up against them.”
“Believe me, Lucia,” he said, “the police forced me to—”
“You don’t have to explain,” she said softly. “Not to me. Remember the first time we made love? I knew then that I was in love with you and that I always would be.”
“Lucia, I would never have done what I—”