A Dish Best Served Cold: An Italian Kitchen Mystery (Italian Kitchen Mystery, An) (24 page)

“Hey!” he shouted. “Wait! I have to talk to you!”

You and everybody else. Take a number, brother.
I sprinted back across the grass as his voice faded behind me. I rounded the side of the carousel house until I heard his footsteps die away. One or two tourists still lingered. It had to be close to eleven; any minute now Danny would get my text. Just a few more minutes and I’d be safe. But the crowds were thinning. Stands and arcades were closing, leaving me fewer and fewer places to hide.

The lights on the Ferris wheel went black, and I pressed myself against the outside wall of the carousel house, my heart thudding and my breath coming hard. Four of them were looking for me now, and I didn’t know which of them I could trust. If any. I stayed against the wall, shifting my feet sideways, thinking if I could get to the door, I’d duck inside.
Not a good idea, Vic
.
Good old “Jackson Manchester” probably has a key. He might even be in there right now, waiting.

I bent my head, feeling the tears behind my eyes. I couldn’t run anymore. In fact, I could barely walk. And then there was a deep male voice in my ear, saying exactly what I was thinking.

“C’mon, Victoria,” Richard Barone said. “Don’t you think it’s time to give it up?”

R
ichard took my arm as gently as he had spoken and led me inside the carousel house, where a livid Iris was waiting. The place was empty of tourists, and the carousel horses formed an eerie tableau in the darkened arcade.

“Why do you keep running away from us?” Iris hissed, her angry voice echoing strangely in the empty building.

I jerked my arm from Richard’s grip. “Why do you think? I don’t know what you might do.” I glared at Richard. “And I don’t know what you might have
already
done.”

Iris let out a loud huff. “Don’t you ever get tired of playing detective?”

Richard put his arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay, hon. She knows we don’t intend to hurt her.”

“I don’t know any such thing. My brother is on his way, probably with backup, so don’t get any ideas.”
Please let that be true.
I looked from one to the other of them. “You said you wanted to explain. So answer my questions.” I felt like someone in a movie—or in one of my own books.
Keep them talking and help will come. Maybe.

“Ask me anything you like, Victoria,” Barone said.

“Iris has already admitted that Pete was blackmailing her. Was he blackmailing you, too?”

He looked at me steadily. “I was nowhere near this place the night he died.”

“That’s not an answer,” I said. “Pete knew my uncle had probably been set up for a crime he didn’t commit. And I suspect he also knew that the real killer was part of Leo Barone’s inner circle. So your great-grandfather’s organization was not entirely ‘bloodless,’ was it, Richard?” I raised my chin and looked him straight in the eye, feeling as though I had little to lose at this point. “Keeping that from going public would be motive enough, wouldn’t you say?”

He shook his head, a slight smile on his face. “Victoria, think about this for a minute. If I’d wanted to keep Pete quiet, I would have set him up in his own house with a regular pension. I could have given him a hundred times what he asked for. Don’t you understand that blackmail was a
game
to him? He felt like it gave him power over people.”

“Well, it was a game that got him killed. And you’re not immune to that game yourself, Richard,” I said. “You can’t tell me you don’t enjoy having power over people. You knew my uncle was innocent all along. You’ve probably had those papers for years. You only gave them to me when you thought I was getting close to the answer. Pete may not have been a threat, but
I
was.”

Barone shook his head. “I never touched that old man.”

“Maybe not,” I said, “but you might have hired someone to do it.”

“Somebody like me, maybe?” Gerry Domenica stepped from the shadow of the doorway, holding a snub-nosed pistol that looked like something out of an old movie. He looked at each one of us, grinning widely, the gold tooth prominent.
The gold tooth.

“You were here,” I said shakily. “The morning after the storm. You were here with the cleanup guys. I remember now.”

“Do you, miss?” he said. “I could tell you were a smart girl. Too smart, maybe.” He held the gun out and I shrank back. “Are you smart enough to reck-anize this? Nah, why would ya? It’s the gun that killed Nino Mancini.”

“The one the police never found all those years ago,” I said slowly as a creeping chill settled over me. Because it was all becoming clear now.

“I made my bones with this,” Domenica said proudly. “I was only sixteen. Mancini had crossed Mr. Leo, and I couldn’t let that go, could I?” He turned to me. “That uncle of yours was always hopped up on somethin’. I made him drive me that night.” He gestured with the gun. “Boom, boom. Two shots and it was all over. Then I got outta there like a bat out of hell.” He shrugged. “Too bad your uncle got the blame.”

“And Pete knew,” I said. “Because his brother, Alphonse, had told him. All these years you thought you got away with murder. But Pete knew the truth. He was a threat to you, so you killed him.”

He chuckled. “I ain’t sayin’ I did or I didn’t. But if I did, I did it for you, Richie. I did it for you and Mr. Leo.”

“You did it for yourself, Domenica,” Barone said. “You did it to cover up a crime
you
committed, a crime for which another man took the blame and spent years in prison.”

“And that’s something you wouldn’t want coming out now, would you, Richie? What with your big fancy foundation and all,” Domenica said, his voice sly. “Mr. Leo always said he didn’t have no blood on his hands. And I know you’d wanna keep people from knowing about poor old Roberto.” He twirled the gun around on his index finger and I fought the urge to drop to the floor. “You’d be surprised at how easy it is to get rid of an old drunk. Hypothetically speaking, of course.” He grinned widely.

“Shut up, old man!” said a voice sharply. “Don’t say anything else.”

Four heads turned in unison to look at the tattooed man who stood in the open doorway.
The gang’s all here,
I thought.
And which one of them killed Pete?

“Lorenzo, what are you doing here?” Domenica asked. “I told you to stay out of this.”

“I can’t stay out of it, Nonno. I’m in it, just like you are.”

Nonno?
“He’s your grandfather?” I asked.

“You bet he is,” Domenica piped up. “He got that tattoo just like mine.” He slapped his upper arm. “Leo the lion.”

“That’s right, Nonno,” Lorenzo said. “It’s just like yours.”

“Yeah,” Domenica said. “That’s my boy. He got into a little trouble some years back, but he did his time. Right, Renzo?”

“Uh-huh,” Lorenzo said, keeping his eyes trained on his grandfather’s gun. “I did my time. Hey, why don’t you put that down now? Somebody might get hurt.”

Thank you, Lorenzo. At least somebody in this room has his wits about him.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. Domenica’s grandson had sought out Pete and probably used Alyssa to get close to him. He had access to the carousel house. Was he working
for
his grandfather or against him? Domenica was here the day after the storm, but had he arrived the night before? Had he come to kill Pete or to make sure the job was done?

“Put the gun down,” Lorenzo said again.

It was then that Richard stepped forward. “Lorenzo’s right, Domenica. We don’t want anyone getting hurt here.” He looked from grandfather to grandson. “And I’m sure we can all come to some kind of agreement, can’t we, gentlemen?”

Lorenzo shook his head and smiled slightly. “He means he’ll pay us off. Because Barone thinks that all he has to do is write a check to make things go away.”

“I wouldn’t put it quite that way, Lorenzo,” Barone said smoothly. “But I don’t want to see anyone hurt.” He turned to Gerry. “Domenica, can’t we at least let the women go?”

Yes, please. Let’s do let the women go.
My heart gave a small flutter of hope, but Domenica shook his head. “Nobody goes anywhere just yet.” But he slid his arm down to hold the gun at his side, and I breathed a little easier.

“As I was saying—” Richard began.

“Never mind what you were saying, Barone,” Lorenzo said. To my surprise, he turned to me. “Victoria, I was looking for you for a reason. I knew about your great-uncle, and so did he.” He pointed to Barone, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “I grew up listening to my nonno’s stories of the old days in AC, and I’m not gonna lie, I was impressed. He was an old-time gangster, you know. So I got the lion tattoo, thought I was a real badass.” He shook his head. “I served time for robbery, and when you’re inside, you have a lot of time to think. But also a lot of time to read. I worked in the prison library, and I found a lot of the same stuff you did,” he said to me. “And I had my suspicions about the Mancini murder. About . . . who really did it, I mean.”

At this, Domenica grinned widely. “He’s a smart boy, ain’t he?”

My God,
I thought,
he’s proud of what he did. And he doesn’t care that his own grandson knows he’s a murderer.
“But why were you looking for me?” I asked.

Lorenzo held up his hand. “I’ll explain, but let me go back a bit, okay? I got the job here on the boardwalk, and that’s where I stumbled across Pete. I mean, he would just ramble on to anyone who would listen.”

“And you connected him to your grandfather and the old days in Atlantic City,” I said.

“Yeah. My grandfather used to talk about ‘making his bones,’ but it was Pete who suggested that it was Nonno who killed Mancini, and not your uncle. But I had to be sure. I asked my grandfather, point-blank, if he’d killed Mancini, and he admitted it.” He pointed to Barone. “So I went to see him. I told him what I’d found out and about meeting Pete. I wanted him to set the record straight. But instead he offered me money to make it go away.”

I looked at Barone, who stood stone-faced. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

“Please,” Lorenzo said. He turned to me. “I knew you were wondering about Pete’s death, too. I knew you’d gone down to talk to my grandfather; I wanted to warn you.”

“
You
wanted to warn me?” I looked at Iris and Barone. “So you two weren’t looking for me to protect me. You wanted to make sure you found me before Lorenzo did. What were you going to do, Richard? Offer me money, too?”

Barone shrugged. “Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do, Richie,” Domenica said. “It was you who told me about Pete. When you came down to the club to play golf. Remember?”

So Barone made sure that Domenica knew Pete was a threat; in a sense, he had signed his death warrant.

“And once that happened,” Lorenzo said softly, “it was all over. I tried to warn Pete the night of the party.”

“So that’s why you were hanging around Alyssa,” I said.

He smiled slightly. “Not my best hour. But I had to get to Pete, and I’d seen him around the restaurant. But he was so drunk that night I don’t think he understood he was in any danger. So I couldn’t save him.” He stared at his grandfather. “And I don’t want anybody else getting hurt.”

“I ain’t gonna hurt nobody,” Domenica said, but tightened his grip on the gun.

Lorenzo looked at his grandfather, his eyes filling with tears. “I know you did it, Nonno. I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t.” He swiped the back of his hand across his eyes. “You took my keys to this place and you got him to meet you here the night of the storm. You killed that old man.”

“No, he fell, Renzo. I swear! He was drunk and he passed out; he just fell forward on the floor. The water was already coming in.”

“And you left him there, right?” Lorenzo asked softly. “You left him there to drown.” He paused, his expression weary. “Or maybe you helped him along. One good shove would’ve been enough.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way, exactly,” Domenica said, gesturing with the gun.

“Will you
please
drop that thing?” Lorenzo said through his teeth.

Domenica’s voice hardened and she shook his head. “No can do, son. I got a room full of witnesses here.”

I looked from one stubborn face to the other; we were at an impasse. I was just desperate enough—and exhausted enough—to try to break it.

“Mr. Domenica,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking, “my brother is a police detective and he’s on his way with backup. Believe me, it will be much better for you if you don’t have a weapon in your hand.”

He turned to face me and I instantly regretted calling attention to myself. He tilted his head, studying my face. “You know, miss, I see the resemblance. I always felt bad about Robbie. But what was I gonna do? I was a kid. Had my whole life in front of me.”

I seized on his words. “That’s true. You
were
only a kid. And if you’re saying that Pete’s death was an accident—”

“I’ll get you the best lawyer there is,” Barone interrupted.

Before Domenica could answer, there was a creak and a metallic groan. Then the first slow notes of organ music and the flare of lights as the carousel slowly came to life. As the platform turned, a lone figure jumped from it, and I caught the flash of white against the black collar. Domenica turned in surprise, and never saw the roundhouse punch that caught him in the side and dropped him like a rock. The gun clattered across the cement floor and Lorenzo stopped it with his foot. Doubled over in pain, Domenica looked up in shock at the priest, who was now kneeling next to him.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Father Tom said softly, “but this had to end. You know that, don’t you?”

Domenica nodded and spoke with effort. “I . . . I know, Father.”

Father Tom rested his hand on Domenica’s arm. “The police are on their way. It will go better for you if you tell the truth.”

Lorenzo set the gun down carefully outside the door of the carousel house and then crossed quickly to his grandfather. “He’s right, Nonno.”

Father Tom turned to me. “Are you all right, Victoria?”

I nodded. “Thanks to you. That was quite a shot you gave him.”

He flexed his fist and grinned at me. “Some things you never forget.” He raised his eyes heavenward. “God willing.”

In the distance I could hear the sirens, and my knees sagged with relief. For a moment, I met Iris’s eye. But she glanced away quickly, turning all her attention on Richard.
Good luck, girlfriend,
I thought.
You’re gonna need it.

At that moment, Sofia rushed in, nearly knocking down Iris and Barone as she barreled toward me. “You okay, Vic?” she said breathlessly. “Father Tom made me wait outside, and it was killing me.” She pointed to the still-spinning ride. “But it was my idea to start the carousel to distract everybody. Smart, huh?” As I looked at her broad grin and shining eyes, it occurred to me that even pregnancy didn’t cause the glow that surrounded my sister-in-law at this moment. Maybe she had a future in law enforcement after all.

“Not just smart, Sofe, brilliant. Well played.” I looked over at Domenica, still on the floor of the arcade, with Lorenzo hovering over him. Barone and Iris were huddled together, talking quietly. Someone had brought the ride to a stop, and I had a sudden yearning for fresh sea air. “Hey, can we blow this joint, sis?”