Dominic nodded. “It was no war. It was an assassination.”
Sin sat back in the chair and drummed her nails on its arm. “Did the LaBarbara’s catch the killer?”
“They said it was the Constantino family from Napoli, but—”
Sin read Dominic’s nonverbal cues: slouched posture, increased yet shallow breathing, a flutter of his eyes. “You don’t think it was the Constantino family, do you.”
Dominic leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. “I knew Salvatore Constantino. We weren’t good friends, but we shared an occasional meal. The Naples ‘Ndrangheta contingent was large and respected. We spoke in detail many times over a bottle of wine and a bowl of pasta about the future of the organization. Like me, he sought change.”
“What was the Naples’ family involved in?” Troy asked.
“The usual, extortion, drugs,” Dominic stood and raised his arms about chest high and shrugged, “but nothing violent or rough. Sal liked it that way. It didn’t make sense that he would make a play or the LaBarbara’s holdings. And, he definitely would not have killed in such a brutal way.”
“How was Vincent killed?” Troy asked.
“His neck was cut,” Dominic answered.
Sin sat up and typed like a mad woman. She opened file after file on the LaBarbara killing and on the Costantino family and their holdings. “Fuck,” she muttered as she read one of the reports.
“What? It’s just as I told you.”
“Do you know if Sal was right or left-handed?”
“Yes, he was left-handed.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“How?”
“Whenever we would get together he insisted on sitting with his left side hidden from view if possible, or if we were at a restaurant, he would sit with his left side on the inside of the booth. He said it concealed his weapon, and if he had to draw it, no one could block his arm.”
Sin pulled up crime scene photos on Vincent LaBarbara’s killing. She shuffled through them until she found the one of Vincent lying on the marble floor of his study. She zoomed in on his neck and enhanced the image. “If you look close you’ll see the wound is deeper on the left side of his neck. He was killed by a right-handed person.”
Dominic stared at the monitor. It was obvious to Sin that he was confused.
“Sit in the chair, I’ll show you,” she said.
“You’ll show me?” Dominic said, his voice rising in pitch with each word.
Sin rolled her eyes. “Relax, I’m not going to kill you, just sit.”
Sin stood behind him and flipped open her balisong and held the knife with her left hand. Holding it so the spine or back of the blade, was facing Russo’s neck she pretended to cut him. “If I was left-handed,” she said, “the cut would start on the right-side of your neck. That’s where the deepest cut would be.” She switched hands and made the same move with her right hand. “If I was right-handed, the cut would begin and be deeper on the left side of your neck.”
“How do you know he was attacked from behind?” Russo asked. “If from the front, the killer could have been left-handed.”
Demonstration over, Sin closed her blade with a flick of her wrist and moved back behind the desk. “Look at the photos of the room,” she said. “No signs of a struggle, nothing out of place. Vincent never saw his killer. He was definitely killed from behind.”
Dominic stood directly in front of the monitors and rubbed his neck, just below his chin. “So, Vincent wasn’t killed by Salvatore?”
Sin limped to the front of the room and stood next to him. “You knew them both; tell me, were they good friends? Was Salvatore Constantino someone who would be allowed to walk into the LaBarbara home unescorted? Was he someone who would could walk into a room where Vincent was and not be announced?”
“No.” Dominic said. “They were not friends. Aria’s father ran a tight ship. He was paranoid that someone would break in and steal from him. No guest, no matter how close to the family would be allowed to walk through the home without an escort. Even after Aria and I were engaged, I always had an escort when I went to see her.”
“If Vincent was killed by someone inside the LaBarbara home, who and why?” Troy asked.
“That’s one of many questions I have for Aria. I think it’s time we spoke to her.”
“My wife—my ex-wife—is not one for conversation, especially if she feels she is being interrogated,” Dominic said.
“I’ve been known to be very persuasive,” Sin said. She turned to Troy and asked, “Would you please ask Aria LaBarbara to join me in an hour.”
“If Aria is coming down, then I would like to go up and join my daughter. I don’t want her to be alone.”
Sin sat in the chair across from Russo. “In just a minute. Is there anything else you can tell me about Savio?”
Dominic’s lower lip puffed out in a pout and she shook his head. “Nothing,” he said.
Sin didn’t react, she just continued with the next question. “What about his relationship with Pia? His relationship with Aria?”
Dominic sat back and crossed his arms. “That’s what hurt the most when I found out he was spying in my home for the LaBarbara’s,” he said. “He and Pia were like brother and sister. They fought like crazy but loved each other fiercely.”
“And his relationship with Aria?”
“She was like a mother to him, and he loved her like a mother.”
“What about Savio’s real mother? I know I asked you before, but I’m missing something.”
“He never had a mother.”
“Come again,” Sin said. “My biology may be a bit rusty, but as far as I know, Vincent didn’t give birth to Savio.”
“Like I told you before, Vincent enjoyed his women, but he didn’t like relationships. One of his dalliances, a prostitute, became pregnant. When Alfredo—Aria’s father—found out, he was furious. Being a devout Catholic, he didn’t believe in abortion, so he had her sent to a convent in Rome. She stayed there until she gave birth.”
Sin
