Page 49 of Kept

To any outside listener, the conversation would be obviously odd, but not altogether incriminating. It’s also our long-established code for, “We need to talk right the hell now.”

I fire off a quick message to Alessandro that I’ll be swinging by.

I’ll have the sisters hide the sacramental wine.

I roll my eyes.

Without the hinderance of rush hour traffic, the drive into the city is quick. Our Lady of Naples Catholic Church is tucked in the heart of little Italy, its weathered brick walls surrounded by the high-rise glass and concrete of greater Manhattan.

I pull around to the side, where a grounds keeper opens a gate. They know my car by now. I park the sleek black SUV between a 1990s Toyota Corolla that looks like it’s held together by rust and a prayer, and a fifteen passenger church bus, both adorned with the name of the parish on the doors.

I don’t need an escort to find my way through the maze of hallways and stained glass, and between my brother the priest and the substantial amount of money I donate to keep the church and its various programs funded, no one bats an eye at my presence. I make my way down an unmarked hallway and through a nondescript door.

The door, however, leads to the priest’s side of the last confessional booth. I sit and slide open the lattice partition.

Martinez chuckles. “I suppose this is probably the only way to get men like us into a church.”

“So people keep telling me,” I reply.

“You have a problem.”

“No shit. Care to be a lot more specific?”

Through the lattice, I see Martinez running his hands down his face, obviously stressed by the information. “NYPD started getting information, good information, on you. They brought it to the Organized Crime SSA and are trying to make a RICO case out of it.”

“Interesting. Is it going anywhere?”

He groans and scratches his head. “I don’t know. Enough for an actual RICO case? I doubt it. Enough to be a pain in the ass? Yeah.” He slides a folder through a crack in the base of the lattice. “We both know that the government owes you a big fucking favor after that stunt you pulled off for the counter terrorism task force a couple years back.”

I chuckle. “Well, that didn’t exactly have a courtroom resolution.”

Though it was great for Giuseppe’s family business.

“When it comes to terrorism, the task force doesn’t give a fuck about the courtroom so long as it keeps people alive. Look, so far as the FBI is concerned, this isn’t going to go anywhere on this side of the house. Our control over locals is pretty fucking slim. Then again, so is their case in the first goddamned place. But you’ve got a leak. It might not have been enough this time, but next time? Who knows.”

Without anything further, Martinez puts his jacket back on, concealing the badge and gun from the unsuspecting worshippers outside. The door to the booth swings open and closes with a soft click. I slide the lattice closed before the next person can come in and actually confess their sins. Entertaining though it may be, even I have boundaries.

Taking the folder with me, I help myself to my brother’s office and begin to sift through the documents. Martinez was correct, the information is accurate, but I doubt the DA would be able to make a case from it. I’m certain that my very well compensated attorney would rip it to shreds. Most of it is financial, holdovers from my father’s era.

I shoot off a message to Jack DuPoint and arrange for him to meet me at the house. I send him photos of the documents through our encrypted system before shredding the originals.

On my way out of the city, I dial Marie.

“What can I do for you, Mr. De Luca?” she answers in her normal cheerful tone.

“See what you can do about getting a box suite at the Lincoln Center for the masquerade performance of the ballet.”

“Sure. Anything else?”

“Make sure Sarah is set.”

“Is this top secret or public information?” she asks.

I laugh. “A surprise would be nice, thank you.”

“No worries. I’ll text you when I have details.”

By the time I’m back in my office, Jack has set up and is waiting for me, along with Marco.

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