“No. The shooter took out the wife. She was driving Rausa’s car.” Vic seemed to weigh thoughts or memories. “The shooter called before pulling the trigger and told Andrea the wife was driving. Andrea was in charge, and he was agitated, flushed, pacing. We’d been sitting in the office, waiting for the call.”
“So Andrea gave the order?”
“Kind of. He shouted, ‘I don’t care, we kill him next!’ and hung up. Then he turned to me all, ‘Can you believe it? This bitch is asking me whether I fucking mean it. I do fucking mean it.’” Vittorio shrugged. “And that was that.”
“Wow.” Jack swallowed. “How did he have time to call when she was moving?”
“Oh, winding roads. Multiple opportunities for the kill. It’s why we’d chosen the spot.”
“And I always thought it was an accident.”
“Sadly, we never got a shot at Rausa after that, because the War didn’t go our way, and by the time we had spare capacities to deal with him, he’d practically vanished.”
“Why’d he do that?”
“It’s hearsay, but my best guess is, he spent the time weeding out everybody who was loyal to Mike. Some people vanished, so they probably got walked into a room.”
Jack remembered a quip from his previous capo that it was only the Cosa Nostra where “a man was walked into a room” wasn’t the first line of a Dad joke.
“Rausa’s a hard man,” Vic continued.
For what it’s worth, I think you broke his heart.
“He needs to be.” Jack kept his voice level and flat. “Considering he clawed his way to the top. Andrea didn’t have to.”
“Neither did you. Timing worked in your favor, Jack. When you got out, you carried less baggage than any of the others.”
“I’m aware.” All of it was moot now, though. His role was no longer set, the shackles had fallen away. There was something liberating in chaos and destruction. “I’ve played defense so long, shifting to offense will take some getting used to.”
“What makes you think it’ll be necessary?”
“I approached him at the wedding. Cassaro was there too. Rausa told me to fuck off. He’s definitely holding a grudge.”
“Might be a good time to revisit the idea of taking him out. Can’t imagine you’d even have to talk to the Dommarco about it, though I’d call Cassaro at least. As a courtesy, if nothing else.” Vic Decesare groaned as he shifted his weight in bed. “I swear, humans are just made of guts and shit. Never get old.”
Somehumans. Jack gave him a slight smile. “You’ve given me some stuff to think about.” He rose, hesitantly and lingered near the bed. “When we deal with Rausa, there might be some poetic justice if we use the same shooter. Care to share the name?”
Vic smiled with some real humor. “I like your thinking, but he’s currently not available. Unlike you, he wasn’t exactly a model prisoner, so he should be out in twenty years or so.”
Ralphie Galante. He was the only one that fit the description. He’d been a trusted button man for Andrea’s father and a noticeable loss when the jury had quite rightly put him away for a long time. Jack hadn’t paid a lot of attention to him, except to back him up with lawyers and money. He’d been too busy sweating over the peace treaty with Cassaro.
“That’s too bad.” Jack checked his phone for the time. “Will they at least let you drink the wine?”
“They didn’t keep me from drinking the others.” Vic raised his chin in defiance, and Jack assumed some nurses may have decided to indulge a man whose room was crowded with the ghosts of the men he’d killed. “But when you deal with Rausa, do it quickly and decisively. I’m almost glad he’ll be your problem now.”
“Yeah, agreed.” Jack took a few steps back. “If you like that one, I’ll have a case delivered for you.”
“You’re a good man, Jack, thanks.”
Appropriate respects paid, he left the room and caught the eye of a doctor making the rounds. “How’s he doing?”
“Are you a member of Mr. Decesare’s family?”
“Yes, of course. Jack Barsanti. I’m on the guest list.”
“You need to understand the care we’re providing now is purely palliative.”
“I do, thanks. How long does he have left? That might sound harsh, but he has family all over and I’d like to make sure they can all make the appropriate arrangements.”