Darkfall

now that you’ve got his picture. Then every cop in the city will be looking for him, and that’s a lot more men than I’ve got. You can even put it on the TV news, in the papers, and then virtually everyone in the whole damned city will have an eye out for him. If I can’t get to him, then at least I want you to nail him and put him away. Once he’s behind bars…”
    “You’ll have ways of reaching him in prison,” Rebecca said, finishing the thought to which Carramazza would not give voice. “If we arrest him, he’ll never stand trial. He’ll be killed in jail.”
    Carramazza wouldn’t confirm what she had said, but they all knew it was true.
    Jack said, “You’ve told us Lavelle is motivated by revenge. But for what? What did you do to him that would make him want to exterminate your entire family, even your grandchildren?”
    “I won’t tell you that. I can’t tell you because, if I did, I might be compromising myself.”
    “More likely incriminating yourself,” Rebecca said.
    Jack slipped the photograph of Lavelle back into the envelope. “I’ve been wondering about your brother Dominick.”
    Gennaro Carramazza seemed to shrivel and age at the mention of his dead brother.
    Jack said, “I mean, he was apparently hiding out, in the hotel here, when Lavelle got to him. But if he knew he was targeted, why didn’t he squirrel himself away at his own place or come to you for protection? Under the circumstances, no place in the city would be as safe as your house. With all this going down, surely you must have a fortress out there in Brooklyn Heights.”
    “It is,” the old man said. “My house is a fortress.” His eyes blinked once, twice, slow as lizard eyes. “A fortress-but not safe. Lavelle has already struck inside my own house, in spite of the tight security.”
    “You mean, he’s killed in your house-”
    “Yes.”
    “Who?”
    “Ginger and Pepper.”
    “Who’re they?”
    “My doggies. A matched pair of papillons.”
    “Ah.”
    “Little dogs, you know.”
    “I’m not really sure what they look like,” Jack said.
    “Toy spaniels,” Rebecca said. “Long, silky coats.”
    “Yes, yes. Very playful,” Carramazza said. “Always wrestling with each other, chasing. Always wanting to be held and petted.”
    “And they were killed in your house.”
    Carramazza looked up. “Last night. Torn to pieces. Somehow- we still don’t know how-Lavelle or one of his men got in, killed my sweet little dogs, and got out again without being spotted.” He slammed one bony hand down on his attaché case. “Damnit, the whole thing’s impossible! The house is sealed tight! Guarded by a small army!” He blinked more rapidly than he had done before, and his voice faltered. “Ginger and Pepper were so gentle. They wouldn’t bite anyone. Never. They hardly even barked. They didn’t deserve to be treated so brutally. Two innocent little creatures.”
    Jack was astounded. This murderer, this geriatric dope peddler, this ancient racketeer, this supremely dangerous poisonous lizard of a man, who had been unable or unwilling to weep for his dead brother, now seemed on the verge of tears over the slaying of his dogs.
    Jack glanced at Rebecca. She was staring at Carramazza, half in wide-eyed wonder, half in the manner of someone watching a particularly loathsome creature as it crawled out from under a rock.
    The old man said, “After all, they weren’t guard dogs. They weren’t attack dogs. They posed no threat. Just a couple of adorable little toy spaniels…”
    Not quite sure how to handle a maudlin mafia chieftain, Jack tried to get Carramazza off the subject of his dogs before the old man reached that pathetic and embarrassing state of mind on the edge of which he now teetered. He said, “Word on the street is that Lavelle claims to be using voodoo against you.”
    Carramazza nodded. “That’s what he says.”
    “You believe it?”
    “He seems serious.”
    “But do you think there’s anything to this voodoo business?”
    Carramazza didn’t answer. He gazed out the side window at the wind-whipped snow whirling past the parked limousine.
    Although Jack was aware that Rebecca was scowling at him in disapproval, he pressed the point: “You think there’s anything to it?”
    Carramazza turned his face away from the window. “You mean, do I think it works? A month ago, anybody asked me the same thing, I’d have laughed, but now…”
    Jack said, “Now you’re wondering if