“Do you remember me? I stayed here for four nights with my wife, Rosina?”
“Ah, yes, of course. She already checked in. You’re in room twenty-seven. I don’t think she’s in her room right now. Would you like your key?”
Shit. It was true.
“No, it’s okay. We’ll come back later.”
He turned away and motioned for Paul to join him, the whole time his hand in his jacket pocket, fingers wrapped around the butt of Paul’s gun.
They got back outside without incident, and Darwin looked for a taxi. At first, he was surprised the guy hadn’t tried anything yet. But then he thought of Big John and how he’d looked after the car accident. This kind of man understood what it took to take down someone like Big John. For him to do it in handcuffs would intimidate them to no end.
He hailed a cab with all the confidence of a man in complete control. He knew Paul wouldn’t run. Bullets were faster and, as far as Paul knew, Darwin had two guns on him.
When the taxi pulled up, Darwin stood on one side and ordered Paul in first. Then he bent down to watch as Paul shut his door.
“Lock it,” Darwin said.
Paul did.
Then Darwin slid in beside him.
“Where to?” the cab driver asked.
Out of the driver’s line of sight, Darwin withdrew Paul’s gun and rested it on his lap, pointed at Paul.
“Tell him where to go.”
Paul looked down at the gun and then up at the driver.
“Take us to Via Roma in the Eur Zone.”
The driver nodded and they started off.
Rome’s allure tempted Darwin to look out the window and take it all in, but he couldn’t. The afternoon was waning, the sun dropping and his wife was a prisoner because of him. The man sitting next to him was supposed to deliver Darwin to the Fuccini boss, but Darwin was coming to surprise them instead.
The man beside him was dangerous.
But Paul thought Darwin was the dangerous one.
I’d do good to remember that and act the part, he thought.
He tilted his head a little and stared at Paul like he was angry again.
This is crazy. I’m not a mobster. I can’t do this. How am I supposed to scare these guys?
Paul stared out the window. He kept his hands on his lap and waited until the cab ride was over.
The driver eased up a building at least five stories high. It appeared pretty modern for Rome, with glass windows and an art deco front.
“That’s thirty-eight euros,” the driver said.
Darwin pulled two twenty euro bills out of his inner jacket pocket and handed them forward.
“Get out,” he told Paul.
They exited in unison. The cab drove away from the curb and Darwin got off the street before he got hit. Cars raced up and down Via Roma without any regard for safety. A horn blared and then another. He almost turned to see what was happening, but refrained so he could keep his eyes on Paul.
“Okay, we made it this far. Now, where is the boss?”
Paul turned to the glass building. “Up there. Top floor.”
“What office or room number will I find my wife?”
“First off, I have no idea where, exactly, your wife is. I’ve been at Termini all day watching for you. Second, there is no room number. The Fuccini family own the building and the boss’s office takes up the whole floor. But it won’t be easy getting in.”
Darwin cocked his head to the side. “Why’s that?”
The sun had dropped behind the buildings in its final descent. Tension in Darwin’s stomach caused him to consider abandoning this until tomorrow. He couldn’t operate out at night, in the dark. Paul’s face was cast in the golden light, making him look like he was smiling.
“Because, whenever the boss is up there, extra security detail is called in and the elevators are put on service. That means no one can get up there without using the stairs, which are guarded.”
Darwin stood on the cement sidewalk and listened to Paul tell him that they’d come all this way for nothing. Paul had acted scared and compliant. Now he looked smug, and he talked with attitude. What had happened? How had his attitude shifted?
“What do you propose I do?”
Paul laughed. “You didn’t think I was going up with you, did you?”
“Actually, you are.”
“Yeah right. Fuccini would kill me if I went up there and let you walk right in.”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t.”
Darwin’s stomach dropped further as the sun did. It would be dark soon. He couldn’t be out in the dark. He knew his fear was irrational, but it wasn’t a choice. It was just that way.
Paul wasn’t making sense either. Back at Termini Station, he’d been intimidated. Now he talked like he had it all going on.
“So kill me,” Paul said. He opened his jacket at the chest area and said, “Shoot me right here. Come on.”
The guy’s crazy. Darwin couldn’t shoot him. He didn’t even know how to use the gun.
Before Darwin could react, Paul was on him. It was a mad rush, he was hit with a blind sucker punch. Then another.
Darwin was falling, trying to keep his balance, his arms pinwheeling. He instinctively knew that if he fell, he wouldn’t be getting back up.
Paul threw all his weight on him in that second.
Darwin landed on his back, the wind rushing from his lungs, Paul tossing punch after punch, in the stomach, the side and a couple in the arms.
Then it was over as fast as it started. Paul got up, breathing fast and hard.
“You fucking idiot. You thought you had the jump on me?” he screamed.
Darwin wiped blood from the edge of his mouth. He reached for the gun in his jacket, but it was gone.
“That’s right. Got my gun back.” He turned the gun sideways. “See this here. That’s called a safety. You can’t fire the gun without the safety turned off.” He looked down at Darwin, who lay there collecting his breath, as the lights slowly dimmed on Rome. “The whole time you thought you had me. You couldn’t even fire a gun. Actually, have you ever fired a weapon?”
Paul searched Darwin’s face for an answer. Then he laughed and slapped a knee. “You haven’t, have you? Holy shit, are you ever a fucking amateur. And the boss has everyone afraid of you. Damn, is he going to be happy when I deliver you.”
Paul leaned down and grabbed Darwin’s jacket pocket where he’d stashed the pencil. He ripped it out and looked at it dumbfounded.
“A pencil. A fucking pencil. Lead poisoning? Are you fucking kidding me? This is royal. This, I gotta tell the boys.” He looked down at Darwin. “Get up. Get on your feet.”
Darwin had no idea what to do. The sun continued its descent. A mafia hit man stood in front of him. A hit man with a gun and not afraid to use it.
And the sun is going down, Darwin reminded himself.
His reality shifted for real. Maybe he was going crazy after all. If they had Rosina and they were going to kill him, then what was the point of living? What was it all for?
“I said, get up.” Paul stepped closer and kicked Darwin in the stomach.
The blow knocked the wind out of him. He curled around and got on his hands and knees. He thought about his stepmother. He thought about all the times he sat in that dark room and got poked. He thought about blood, and Big John’s face came to him, neck split open, blood on his face, his shoulder, his arm.
Darwin got up slowly. Paul was talking about how he could never have taken Darwin prisoner and got him to
