world as she had when they’d first brought her into the house. Tiptoeing, he went back to see what Prek was doing and when he walked to the kitchen window, he could see the van’s doors were open with someone inside. With Prek attending to his housekeeping duties, Neri thought he was safe for at least ten or fifteen minutes. With mounting excitement, Neri went to the front door and threw the dead bolt. Then he quickly tiptoed back into the master bedroom, literally shaking with excitement. He closed the door.
So what does that mean for us?” Prek asked Buda. He wasn’t sure he understood what his boss was trying to tell him.
“It means we don’t do anything with the girl till I figure out what’s going on with this moron Drilon.”
“You’re sure he was lying?” Prek couldn’t understand why someone might lie when asked a direct, simple question about whether someone was related to them or not.
“I’m pretty sure. Everything about his behavior told me he was lying. When I asked him a direct question, he hesitated and then started stammering that he didn’t know if he was related or not. It was obvious to me he knows the name. And it’s practically his name. If you’re gonna change your name, change your name.”
“And his boss didn’t say anything?” Prek asked, meaning Berti Ristani.
“Nothing. Either he didn’t notice or he didn’t want to say anything with me sitting there. I bet it’s the latter because he’s not stupid. It’s this Drilon guy who’s stupid.”
“Why would he lie about something like that? He must know what the implications are.”
“I would assume as much,” Buda said. This, of course, was the question that was nagging at him. If Drilon Graziani was lying, it meant whatever he was trying to conceal from his boss was more important to him than this girl’s life, even if she was a relative. Paradoxically, that fact made the girl suddenly more valuable to Buda, even if he didn’t know why. This was the reason it was so important for him to talk to Burim Graziani, if that was actually his name. Buda figured that Ristani had also realized Drilon was lying, which had an entirely separate set of consequences.
Buda himself didn’t appreciate being lied to, especially by a subordinate, and he wouldn’t want to be in Drilon’s shoes if Buda was right about his supposition. It also put Buda in a tricky position. His visit was probably now the cause of a problem within the Ristani crew. He hoped Berti didn’t blame him for that.
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” Buda said, meaning that he wasn’t comfortable having even this guarded a conversation over a cell phone line. “I’m coming up there to the summer house. Just make sure our guest is treated as a guest until this is cleared up,” Buda said.
“Will do,” Prek said, ending the call. He’d left Genti in charge in the house, and he trusted him, for the most part. But he thought he’d better check.
Immediately after talking with Prek, Buda got another call on his headset.
“Aleksander, it’s Berti. Sorry to bother you.”
“No bother, Berti,” Buda said.
“I talked with Burim,” Berti said. “I asked him about Pia Grazdani, wondering if he’d ever heard the name. And you know what? He said he did. Can you believe that?”
“No,” said Buda, but he could.
“Then Burim called back and said one of your guys tried to call him.” Berti said nothing more and left the statement hanging in the air. Buda thought he’d better play it straight.
“I did have one of my guys call Burim,” Buda admitted. “You know as well as I do, Berti, Drilon acted strangely to my question. My sense was that he was lying. I figure that’s your business, him lying to you, but he lied to me too. If I could ask the brother, maybe I wouldn’t have to bother you directly. But I have to find out so I can deal with the woman I’m holding without starting a blood feud.”
“I appreciate that, Aleksander. Of course, none of us want another blood feud: Albanian brother against Albanian brother. Of course I noticed Drilon was lying, and I called him back after you left and asked him again. I said, ‘No fucking around,’ and he said yeah, well, maybe he did know a Pia Grazdani. He tried to say he’d forgotten because he hasn’t heard the name or seen the girl for twenty-some-odd years.”
Buda was relieved that Berti was seeing it his way.
“So what do we do, Berti?”
“You hold on, I can conference you through to Burim.”
“I need to make another quick call first,” Buda said.
“Okay. Do what you need to do, then call me right back.”
Buda was navigating a complicated course but calmly made his call to Prek. When Prek picked up, Buda spoke and didn’t give Prek a chance to respond. He told Prek that he had to talk to a man named Burim Graziani before he could say yea or nay about Pia Grazdani. He said he was about to talk with him, so he’d be getting back to Prek straightaway with a final answer. “Hold the course with our guest for another half-hour or so,” Buda said. “I thought I’d also let you know I’m only about a half-hour away. I’m in Wayne, on Route 23. I’ll be back to you shortly.”
As soon as Prek hung up from Buda the second time, after being told to hold the course, he jumped out of the van. For a moment he stood and listened. He had expected to hear muffled conversation from his two sex-starved underlings, but he heard nothing, which was disturbing. A half-hour earlier the men had been unable to stop talking. With gathering urgency, Prek headed for the front door, hearing in his mind Buda telling him the woman was to be treated as a guest.
With his intuition setting off alarm bells, Prek reproached himself: He should not have left the two alone no matter how much he had wanted to get out of the house. He went to open the front door and found it locked.
“What the . . .” he said. He ran around the corner of the house directly to the window of the master bedroom. Neri hadn’t even bothered to close the drapes. Prek banged twice on the window, then ran back to the van, grabbed his gun from the glove compartment, ran back to the window, and smashed it with the butt of the gun. He was furious. Reaching in awkwardly, he fired off a single round.
58.
TURNOFF ON ROUTE 23 WAYNE, NEW JERSEY MARCH 25, 2011, 9:19 P.M.
I understand you’re trying to reach me,” Burim Graziani said.
“Berti, are you still on the line?” Buda questioned.
“I’m getting off. You two men talk.” There was a click when Berti hung up.
“Yes, I need to talk to you,” Buda said to Burim. “We haven’t met each other, right?”
“No, I don’t believe so. But I know who you are, of course.”
In their line of work, everyone knew Aleksander Buda. This was going to be a complicated conversation, Buda could tell. He wanted to make sure it wasn’t also too compromising. Cell phones could be hacked, even new cell phones like the one Buda was currently using.
“For that reason, we need to be careful.”
“I understand.”
Neither of them was willing to start. Burim had been shocked to get Ristani’s call. He had been in his car, driving back to Weehawken from South Jersey where he’d concluded his business early. Ristani’s question had shaken him so much he nearly rear-ended the truck in front of him. “Pia Grazdani?” he’d repeated out loud, and he thought of his wife, not his daughter. He remembered her fiery personality, the fights, how Pia stayed out all night to party, leaving him alone with the baby. His sudden fury meant he wasn’t listening properly to what Berti was asking him.
“She’s about twenty-five,” Berti had said. “Apparently quite beautiful. Burim, shit, can you hear me?” The connection had not been good, going in and out. It was at that point that Burim realized Berti wasn’t talking about his late wife, but rather about his daughter, Afrodita Pia Grazdani.
Buda cleared his throat. “Berti told me you recognize the name Pia Grazdani. Is there any relation?”
