Angelina looked at me then. There was an expression in her eyes that told me she had been waiting to hear these words for as long as she had known me. She shook her head, perhaps with an element of disbelief. ‘Go to your meeting, Ernesto. We will talk about such things another time.’
I leaned forward, I held her face in my hands and I kissed her.
‘I love you, Angelina.’
‘And I you, Ernesto. Now be gone with you-’
Then I saw tears in her eyes, welling up in the corners. I brushed the hair back from her cheeks and frowned. ‘What?’ I asked.
She shook her head. She closed her eyes and looked down at the floor.
I lowered my hand and raised her chin. She opened her eyes and looked back at me.
‘What?’ I asked again. ‘What is it?’
For a second there was a flash of anger in her expression, and then it softened. She shook her head once more and said, ‘Go Ernesto, go now. I have things to do before the children come home.’
I did not move. I waited until she looked at me once again and I opened my mouth to ask her what was happening.
She shifted to the left and rose to her feet. I stepped back for a moment, puzzled at first, and then I recognized the fire inside her.
‘You know what it is, Ernesto,’ she said, and in her voice was the edge of defiant independence that had so attracted me when I first knew her. ‘You go to your meeting now. I will not question what you are doing, and when you come back I will not ask what you have done. You are a good man, Ernesto. I know this, and if I did not believe that there was more good in you than evil I would never have stayed. You are who you are, and I am wise enough to know that I will never change that… but I will not have you risk my life or the lives of our children-’
I raised my hand. I was shocked, not at what she said, for these were words I had perhaps been expecting for many years, but the vehemence and anger with which she uttered them.
‘Do not tell me to quieten my voice,’ she said. ‘I want you to say nothing, Ernesto, nothing at all. I don’t want to hear you explain or defend yourself or the people for whom you work. Go and speak with them. Go and do whatever you have to do, and when you are done I will still be here with your children. Whatever madness lies out there, I wish you to keep it from our door, because if anything happens that hurts my family I will kill you myself.’
I could not speak, I dared not say a word.
She crossed the room and took my overcoat from the back of a chair. She held it out for me and I walked towards her. She even lifted it up for me to put my arms into the sleeves.
I turned to face her and she raised her hand and pressed her finger to my lips.
‘Go,’ she said. ‘I have said everything I needed to say. I am empty, Ernesto.’
I started to think of how I should respond and she read my thoughts.
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Go finish whatever business you have to finish and then we will talk of the future.’
I left the house and walked back across the street. My mind was like a hollow gourd.
We talked for a little while, Don Calligaris and I; we ventured ideas on what the sit-down could be about, but in truth we knew nothing. I could not concentrate. I could see Angelina’s face, the flash of anger in her eyes, the fear she felt for our children.
At six-thirty we left, and at the end of the street I looked back towards my house, towards where my wife and children would be while I was at Don Accardo’s restaurant, and I wished I could step out of the car and go back.
I had a premonition of something dark walking those sidewalks, pausing in front of my house. I swept such thoughts away. My wife and children were safe. There was nothing to be concerned about. I forced myself to believe that this was the truth.
The restaurant itself was packed to the walls every which way. We maneuvered our way between tables and chairs, waited while waiters performed circus balancing acts with antipasta and steaming plates of carbonara and made it through to the back behind the main room. Here we were greeted by Don Accardo’s men, heavy-set Sicilians with unresponsive faces, and were shown to a table where a good dozen men were seated.
We did not wait long for Don Accardo to appear, and as he entered the room everyone rose and clapped. He quietened them down with a gesture and then he sat also. A few minutes passed while people lit cigarettes, while introductions were made, and then Don Accardo spoke.
‘I appreciate that you have all come to see me on such short notice. I understand that you are busy people, you have families and things to attend to, and the fact that everyone I asked to come is here has been duly noted.’
He paused for a moment and took a sip of water from a glass to his right.
‘Were it not a matter of some importance I would not have called you here, but there is a matter of some grave concern to myself and others that will require our immediate attention.’
Don Accardo looked around the faces at the table. No-one spoke.
‘Some years ago, we dealt with a matter on behalf of our Irish cousins. Don Calligaris took some action which paved the way for a relationship which has grown from strength to strength these past years, and for this we are grateful to Don Calligaris and his people.’
There was a murmur of consent and acknowledgement around the table.
‘Now it seems our Irish cousins are faced with a more serious threat to their operations, not here in Chicago, but in New York, and they have asked for our assistance once again.’
The room was silent.
‘For several years there has been a relationship between the families in New York, specifically the Lucheses, and a man called Antoine Feraud from New Orleans.’
I looked up suddenly. I thought for a moment that I had imagined what I heard.
‘You have all heard of this man. You all know what he is capable of. We helped him with a small matter some time ago, a little difficulty we had with the Teamsters.’
Eyes around the table turned towards me. There were a few nods of respect, all of which I returned. I had not realized how many people knew who I was and of my history.
‘So now we have a situation with this Feraud. He has strong ties with the French and the Hispanics here in Chicago, and he is muscling in on Brennan’s northside territory. Brennan is a strong man, he will not tolerate such things, but with the French and the Hispanics behind Feraud he is strong in some areas. Feraud has no concern regarding who he works with… the Polish, the Eastern Europeans, and he will use these people to take whatever he wants. Brennan has again asked us for our help, and we are here to make a local vote on this matter.’
‘This will be a war,’ a man to the right of Accardo said.
Accardo nodded. ‘This is something we have to be aware of. A war it may become, and though I am the last man in the world who would care for war right now, it is nevertheless a situation of loyalty and honor. For the past many years we have worked close with the Irish. They are not as strong as we are, and therefore we have the upper hand. There are concessions made for us that would otherwise be worthless, and it is not without its benefits that the vast majority of senior officials within the police department are Irish. This is a strong tie, a tie we do not have with the French or the Hispanic people, and I would be very aggrieved if we lost the foothold we possess in this city. This is, after all, Big Jim Colosimo’s city, and we would not want it taken away from him.’
Again a murmur of agreement from the gathering around the table.
‘So speak amongst yourselves for a little while. We will take a vote, and when we have decided, we will send word to Brennan and his people and wait for a strategy to be outlined.’
Don Accardo raised his right hand. ‘Proceed,’ he said.
I turned to Don Calligaris. ‘I cannot believe this… after all these years, these same people.’
Don Calligaris smiled. ‘It’s the way it works. These people put each other in positions of power, and then they work to keep all their friends where they are. This is a political arrangement that has been present since Machiavelli.’
‘There is no question,’ I said. ‘Our ties with the Irish are so much stronger than those with Feraud and his people.’
‘But Feraud has people in Vegas, also in New York. There aren’t many, but then it doesn’t necessarily take an army to win a war.’
