Part 17 (1/2)
”He ate them.”
”Then, they're mine.” Rosemary's eyes shone and she bit her lip in thought.
The conversation stopped abruptly as four men walked into the office and Rosemary was pulled into a quick conference with the NYPD's Organized Crime Task Force on where hot spots were likely to develop. To Bagabond, the men were cyphers, administrative types.
With the police already spread thin, no one needed a major gang war. It was all too possible, according to Rosemary. The other Families were likely to strike at the Gambiones, but they would move slowly, testing for the Gambiones' strength and leaders.h.i.+p. The Immaculate Egrets were the greatest danger, outdistancing the Colombians, the bikers, and even the Mexican Herrera family. The Egrets were not known for caution, restraint, or patience. If the Gambiones did not reestablish their power very quickly, they would be destroyed. None of the men liked the Gambiones, but they all feared the alternative.
While Rosemary discussed the reaction of the Five Families, Bagabond sat quietly on her chair in a corner behind Rosemary's desk. Eyes closed, allowing the conversation to weave around her, she tracked Sewer Jack. He had retreated to the tunnels where he felt safest, but every time Bagabond attempted to influence him to stop moving, he resisted. Although the alligator did not understand precisely why he searched or for what, he kept looking. Tracing the quest further into his brain, Bagabond found that the alligator had made a connection between Cordelia and a particularly tasty bit of food. Discovering that, Bagabond nearly lost contact as the humor of it overcame a portion of her concentration. Wait until she told Jack. Bringing herself back into sync with the reptile, she moved through his brain and carefully changed a few of the neurochemical connections between his legs and his brain, modifying the resistance in the neurons. This done, the alligator moved virtually in slow motion.
Bagabond blinked and brought Rosemary's office back into focus, beginning with the portrait of Fiorello La Guardia on the far wall. The men had left. Rosemary sat at her desk, reviewing a file.
”Welcome back to the real world.” Rosemary closed the file. ”So where's Jack?”
”Somewhere under the Bowery, as best I can tell.” She blinked. ”Do you really think it is-the real world?”
Rosemary looked out the window. ”It's the only one I have.” She looked back at Bagabond. ”Did you catch much of that conversation?” At Bagabond's shrug, she continued, ”I'm supposed to contact my 'sources' and find out what's happening now. After that, I want to go get those books. I'll figure out what I'm going to do with them when I get them.” She picked up the phone and began punching b.u.t.tons.
Bagabond watched silently.
”Max, this is Rosa Maria Gambione,” Rosemary said into the receiver. ”I heard there was trouble today, Don Frederico . . .” She reached out and placed the phone on the speaker.
”. . . long time since you last called, Maria.”
”Yes, it has been a long time. But I am still a Gambione.”
”Don Frederico has pa.s.sed on,” Max said after a pause. ”Perhaps an accident, perhaps the d.a.m.ned-excuse me, Maria-Chinamen. I do miss your father, Maria. This never would have happened if he were still with us.”
”My father was a good don, Max. Is there someone in line to become the new don?”
”No, the Butcher-excuse me, Maria-thought he would live forever.”
”What will happen with the Family?”
Bagabond looked up sharply at Rosemary. The a.s.sistant DA's tone held more than intellectual concern, and she looked worried. Her hands were curled, the knuckles livid.
”There is a meeting tonight at eight at the Haiphong Lily-the younger capos find it amusing to meet there, and the food is good. The capos will decide who will be the next don. Forgive my impertinence, but I hope they choose more wisely this time.”
”I'm sure they will, Max.”
”Maria, if you give me your phone number, I could let you know what happens.”
”No, no, I'm never at home and I hate answering machines.”
”I can't believe that a nice girl like you hasn't found a husband yet. You can't mourn Lombardo Lucchese forever, you know. Don't let that tragedy ruin your life.”
”Thank you, Max. I'm not. You know how picky I am. My father's daughter.”
”Yes, you are. Strong and smart like him. Please don't be such a stranger, Rosa Maria. We all miss you.”
Bagabond's eyes widened as she listened to Rosemary's conversation. Rosemary picked up a ballpoint from her deak and threw it at her.
”Take care, Max. I'll speak to you soon. Ciao.”
”Ciao, Maria.”
The phone squealed when Rosemary switched off the speaker.
”And what's so funny, Suzanne?”
” 'Oh, Max, I'm just too busy being a district attorney to have a family.' They really don't know?”
”Suzanne Melotti, G.o.d will get you for that. Of course they don't know. Rosemary Muldoon is black Irish and doesn't look a thing like Maria Gambione, the only twentieth-century Madonna. I haven't seen any of them in person since my mother's funeral years ago, and I wore a wig, veil, and no makeup for that.”; Rosemary shook her head. ”Why would they make the connection? Everybody around here just figures I read the right books in school and somehow know the right people to be an expert on the Families. They also allow me the factor of good luck.”
”G.o.d already has.” Bagabond leaned back in her chair and tilted her head to one side. ”You really are worried about the Gambiones' welfare, aren't you? The Gambiones are still your family.”
”If the balance of power s.h.i.+fts, we'll have a disaster.” Rosemary stood up.
”Bulls.h.i.+t. Let's go get Jack.”
Rosemary opened her mouth to reply, but the phone beeped at her and the disembodied receptionist's voice spoke. ”Ms. Muldoon, I've got a problem here. Sergeant FitzGerald is calling from the Tombs. It seems that someone, um, 'teleported,' I think he said, an alleged criminal into the Tombs.”
”Mother of G.o.d, why today!” Rosemary stared at the phone as if she wanted it to explode. ”Patricia, isn't Tomlinson on call this afternoon?”
”Well, yes, Ms. Muldoon, that's what my sheet says. But he's still out to a late lunch and everyone else I've tried is either in conference or away from their desk.”
”I'll just bet they're in conference.” Rosemary sighed and sat down again. ”I'll take it.”
Bagabond didn't believe Rosemary's protests of unin-volvement with the Gambiones. The books had become an excuse for Rosemary to be reunited with her real family. It angered Bagabond that she had been maneuvered into aiding Rosemary in that goal. It also made her jealous of Rosemary's past.
Bagabond blocked out the office and tracked down Jack, still treading his reptilian path toward his prey. It took time to scan for him, even at his current slow pace. When she located him, she returned to the office to find Rosemary watching her balefully.
”Sergeant FitzGerald, soon to be Officer FitzGerald, is hysterical. He is also incoherent. I've got to get down there now. Why don't you come along and we'll leave from there?” Bagabond nodded at her as Rosemary reached for the intercom. ”Patricia, try and find Goldberg for me. Tell him to meet me at the elevator.” Rosemary grabbed her jacket off the back of the chair. ”Let's go before anything else happens. I want to make this quick.”
”Why him?” Bagabond put her shoes back on and winced. She walked through the door Rosemary held open for her.
”Your buddy, Goldberg? Because he's new and he's got to learn how to handle this sort of thing. And besides, I like like spreading misery around. Come on.” spreading misery around. Come on.”
Goldberg waited at the elevator, apparently nervously watching for Rosemary. He nodded at Bagabond as the pair walked up.
”Suzanne, I believe you've met Paul Goldberg.” Rosemary waved at Bagabond. ”Paul, Suzanne Melotti, a friend and a.s.sociate of mine.”
”I'm pleased to meet you officially, Ms. Melotti.” He smiled at her. ”I hope I wasn't too abrupt earlier.”
”No.” Bagabond punched the Down b.u.t.ton.
”Um, good. Good.” Paul turned to Rosemary. ”Ms. Muldoon, may I ask why I'm here?” He spread his hands and looked inquisitive.