Shallow Graves

they mean?“
    “In different languages, ‘grandfather.’ “
    The old mobster looked down at the chalice. “Mother of God.“
    I gave him a minute. “The other reason I knew it was you was something that didn’t make sense until I knew what those words meant.“
    Danucci looked at me squarely. “My Amatina’s necklace.“
    “I couldn’t figure why it didn’t just get left at the scene. Or why it wasn’t turning up somewhere, on the street or in a trash can.“
    The old man rose slowly. He turned away from me and shuffled toward the tall china cabinet. Opening the door, he brought his hands shoulder-high and lifted down the big rosewood box. Turning back, he carried it to the table like a butler with the family silver. He opened the lid, reaching in and coming out J with the iolite necklace.
    He held it in his hand like a rosary, slowly turning it so the light from the chandelier could sparkle off the violet stones. “I couldn’t leave my Amatina’s necklace behind. For some fucking cop to scoff up.“
    “That why you didn’t set up somebody else for the fall?“
    Danucci spoke more to the necklace than to me. “1 thought about it. Before you came into the picture, I thought about planting this on one of the people from the modeling thing who knew her. But then I’d lose my Amatina’s necklace to the cops for a long time, maybe even the rest of my life. ‘Evidence,’ they’d say, just wanting to stick it. to old Tommy the Temper as much as they could. I still haven’t got back the pendant part there. Cocksuckers.
    “Then I thought about suiciding somebody, like maybe the colored photographer or the Jap. I can get a couple friends of mine to arrange things with maybe a note. But I couldn’t do that without my friends thinking, ‘The fuck is Tommy having me set this one up for?’ “
    Danucci tore himself away from the necklace, giving me a look as empty as a shark to a bleeding fish. “When I realized that first night how smart you was, I even thought about having you hit, Mr. Detective.“ Back to the necklace. “Only I couldn’t do that, either. My Joey, he never woulda thought it was an accident or some scumbag from another one of your cases. He’s got a lotta heart, my Joey. He woulda known something was queer, that something got set up by somebody knew how, and he woulda never rested till he found out the straight skinny.“
    The ultimate irony. Tommy Danucci, the man who’d ordered a hundred deaths, not daring to order the hundred and first. A victim of his own resources.
    The old gangster reluctantly laid the necklace on the linen tablecloth. “So, what’s the deal, eh?“
    “The deal was that if I found out who killed Tina, I’d come to you first.“
    Danucci watched me. “And you done that, so what’s the new deal? What do you want from me?“
    “Nothing.“
    “What’s with nothing?“
    “You asked me to come here first, I did. That’s it.“
    “What are you talking about? You can’t go to the cops, you wouldn’t live three hours—“
    “I’m not going to the cops. I’m going to your daughter-in-law.“
    “My...? Claudette?“
    “Right.“
    “Why?“
    “Because I promised her.“
    “What?“
    “I promised her. If I found out who killed her daughter. I’d tell her.“
    Danucci seemed not to breathe. He watched me, canting his head twice, the spotlight eyes boring into me. “You’re serious, Mr. Detective.“
    “I am.“
    “A matter of honor.“
    “I don’t know.“
    Another moment, then the abrupt nod. He reached back into the rosewood box with both hands and drew out two long-barreled, chromed revolvers by the handles. Danucci kept one trained on me while he flipped the other in his hand, then lofted it down the table toward me, the linen slowing it as the gun bunched the cloth a foot from my right hand.
    The old man said, “Let’s you and me play a little game of Guts, eh?“
    I tried not to look at the weapon, keeping my eyes on Danucci, figuring that would give me the last warning I’d get. “I don’t think so.“
    “Why is that?“
    “I’m a little unsure of the way mine might be loaded.“
    A disappointed scowl. “You’re a man of honor, Mr. Detective. So am I. Don’t matter what you think about what happened between my Tina and me. I wouldn’t give you an unloaded piece.“
    “I also don’t particularly want to be known to your family as the man who shot you.“
    “So, maybe that ain’t gonna happen, eh? Maybe Lady Luck,