Now Carmine was definitely curious. Urgent calls for a boss and a high-ranking police official? Very odd.
And then, not five minutes later, a man in a white tuxedo approached Carmine’s table. Sal bristled, but a nod from Carmine mostly brought the big guy’s hackles back down, though Carmine remained uneasy himself after Agosto il Sacchi’s and Inspector Coolidge’s abrupt departures moments ago.
The approaching man shot Sal a wary look, then came a little closer. “Mr. Battaglia, I’m terribly sorry to interrupt you this evening, but you have an urgent call.”
Carmine tensed. “A call? From whom?”
The man shifted nervously, eyes darting around the table. “Sir, if you could please come with me…”
Carmine’s boys turned to him, expressions asking what they needed to do. He didn’t have an answer. Not until he understood the situation.
He threw back the last of his drink, then gestured for Sal to get up so he could slide out of the booth. “Boys.” He buttoned his jacket. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“You don’t want anyone to come with you, boss?” Sal asked, still standing.
“I’ll be fine.” Carmine smiled and squeezed his bodyguard’s arm. “Stay here and enjoy the party.”
The men were all dubious, but they nodded in response, and someone grunted “sure thing, boss.”
Then Carmine followed the man in the white tux out of the ballroom.
There was some commotion in the hotel lobby. Inspector Coolidge was talking in hushed tones with a few police officers who clearly weren’t here for the party. As someone walked into an office, Carmine caught a glimpse of Agosto il Sacchi talking to someone, and though he was speaking quietly, he did not look pleased.
Carmine’s heart quickened. What in the world was happening?
Coolidge saw him, and he excused himself from his conversation. “Mr. Battaglia.” He extended his hand. Tone and expression flat, all his good humor gone, he said, “Sorry to pull you from the party, but I—”
“If there’s a problem that can’t wait, then it can’t wait.” Carmine shook his hand. “What is the problem?”
Coolidge glanced through the office door at il Sacchi, who had apparently taken notice of Carmine. He was calmly listening to something the other man was saying, but the look he gave Carmine was murderous and cold.
Carmine faced the inspector again. Coolidge made a placating gesture. “Listen, there’s been—”
“Carmine!” Giulia’s voice spun him around, and Carmine’s heart jumped into his throat at the sight of his sister, who had clearly been crying.
“Giulia!” He threw his arms around her tiny frame and hugged her tightly to his chest, relieved she was all right even though he’d had no reason to think she wasn’t. In fact, up until just now, he’d had no reason to think she was here at all. He let her go and stepped back, looking her up and down. “What’s wrong? And what are you doing here?” At this party… at this hotel… and in this room full of cops and gangsters? He glanced at Coolidge, whose lips pulled tight. Then back to his sister. “What’s going on?”
She wiped her eyes shakily, smearing some kohl into muddy streaks. “I came with friends.” She folded her arms and avoided his eyes. “And I stepped out to talk with Ricky, and we—”
“Ricky? Who’s Ricky?”
She bit her lip and still steadfastly refused to look at him.
Carmine’s stomach somersaulted. “Giulia? What’s going on?”
“Mr. Battaglia,” Coolidge said calmly. “Your sister was the last person seen with Enrico il Sacchi before—”
“Enrico il Sacchi?” Carmine’s lips parted. “What were you doing with him?”
Arms folded, she still refused to look at him. “His boys have been causing trouble at my—” She glanced through her lashes at Inspector Coolidge. “At my restaurant.”
The inspector huffed with obvious annoyance. “Your sister has already been questioned, Mr. Battaglia, and there is no reason to believe she could have overpowered il Sacchi, let alone hit him with a large statue like that. Especially not hard enough to kill him.”
Normally, that kind of statement—suggesting Giulia was weak in any way—would make her bristle with fierce defensiveness, but not this time.
As the information settled into his brain, Carmine blinked a few times. “Wait. Wait. Did…” He shook himself. “Someone killed Enrico il Sacchi?”
Coolidge nodded. “Upstairs in his suite. My men don’t believe your sister killed him, but she was in the room at the time of the murder.”
Carmine faced Giulia. “Is that true?”
Giulia swallowed, swiping at her eyes and smearing more of her dark kohl. “Yes. But I didn’t kill him.”
“Who did?” Carmine asked.
“There was… There was a man in the suite. Two of them, actually, and they were dressed like they worked here, but—”
“Two?”
Scowling, Giulia nodded. “I don’t know why they were there. I mean, what the hell is someone working here doing in the room at that hour? Ricky had security outside when we went in, so I… I think this man was in the room already. Both of them. The lights were off when we got there, but…” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to explain it. He was just suddenly there.”
“And he, what?” Carmine glanced back and forth between Giulia and Coolidge. “Came out of nowhere, murdered il Sacchi, and left with his friend, who was also mysteriously there?”
“He, um.” Giulia cleared her throat and hugged herself. “All I know is that Ricky and I were arguing. Then he grabbed me, and he was threatening me, and this man…” She exhaled, shoulders sagging as she looked at Carmine with tear-filled eyes. “He saved me.”
“Since when do you need rescuing?”
Her expression hardened to an icy glare. “I can take care of myself, but I’m not stupid enough to think a bullet won’t kill me just like it’ll kill you.”
Carmine instantly sobered. “Did he threaten to shoot you?”
“No.” She shifted her weight. “But I know his reputation. I know what he’s—”
“And you still went up there with him? By yourself?”
“Hey!” She stepped up close enough she landed on one of his toes, and despite being a few inches smaller, she may as well have been right in his face. “The son of a bitch attacked me. We went up to his suite, and he—”
“And he could have done anything to you!” Carmine snapped. “What were you thinking? Do you want me to tell Mama you were—”
Coolidge cleared his throat. “Listen, I don’t mean to interrupt a family situation, but I do have a murder investigation to finish.”
Carmine narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t you just say my sister isn’t a suspect?”
The inspector raised his chin and looked down his slim nose at Carmine. “No one believes she’s the one who swung the statue. But she is a witness.” He inhaled deeply. “And il Sacchi’s men say she ran out with the killer and disappeared.”