Page 78 of The Picasso Heist

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“Exactly,” I say. “So whatever we do, it has to be good. Really good.”

“You already have a plan?”

“No, not yet. But I will.”

“When?” he asks.

“As soon as you tell me what exactly you do for him.”

CHAPTER67

MALCOLM HAD GAINEDDominick Lugieri’s trust. He’d done it from the ground up, the only way it could be done, by being willing to hit harder and bleed more than anyone else in the ranks.

The best part was that Malcolm had made Lugieri look every bit the boss that he was and needed to be. After all, bringing in a non-Italian pretty boy wasn’t exactly a natural fit for the family. Lugieri clearly knew what he was doing.

“Are you ready?” he asked Malcolm. He had summoned him back to his private dining room at Osteria Contorni, but this time Malcolm was invited to sit down with Lugieri and talk man to man.Uomo a uomo.

“Yeah, sure. I’m ready,” said Malcolm. If you’re the right guy for the job, you don’t need to ask what the job is before agreeing to it.

Lugieri smiled, satisfied.

“I have this problem, right? It’s one that usually only politicians have. Optics,” said Lugieri. “As of late we’ve been using someone inthe public eye to clean our money. The fact that he’s a well-known person actually makes it easier. People like him travel a little more freely. Other people don’t expect him to be associated with a man like me. But we’ve got a problem.”

“Optics,” said Malcolm.

“That’s right. For every drop we make with him, every transfer, whoever it is we send from the crew stands out. You know what I mean? It doesn’t matter how nice the suit—if you work for me, you look a certain way. But now you work for me.”

“Who’s the guy?” asked Malcolm.

“Enzio Bergamo, the fashion designer. You know who he is?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Your job is about protection. Protecting Bergamo and, more important, protecting us, the money. We started small with him, kind of like on a trial basis. Now we’re stepping it up. At least, I want to. Tens of millions of dollars we’re talking about. You’re my armored truck, Malcolm. Thing is, you can’t stand out like one, know what I’m saying? Not with the outlets that Bergamo uses to wash.”

“Overseas, right?”

“Right. Paris, mainly. Not my backyard, for sure, and there are a shitload of motherfuckers to watch out for. Terrorists, drug cartels, and don’t even get me started on the Ethiopians. So, like I said, are you ready?”

Malcolm watched as Lugieri waited for him to repeat his same confident answer: Yeah, sure, of course he was ready. But it wasn’t coming.

“What is it?” asked Lugieri. “What’s the concern?”

“Hopefully, there isn’t one,” said Malcolm. “But how well do you know Bergamo?”

“Well enough.”

“So you trust him?”

“Situations like this, it’s not really about trust.”

“I guess what I’m asking is, how much do you really know about him?”

“How much do I need to know about him? He understands that if he screws me over, I kill him,” said Lugieri. “Simple as that.”

“But what if you never found out he was screwing you over? Or maybe when you do find out, it’s too late.”

“Too late for what?”