Viper

9

Hotel Le Sirenuse, Positano Salvatore Giacomo, aka Sal the Snake, and his boss, Fredo 'The Don' Finelli sat by the restaurant window, talking in hushed voices while looking out over the bay of Positano. Bruno Valsi weighed them up as he walked their way.

The old man, dapper in blue Prada pinstripes, raised his hand and summoned a waitress as Valsi sat down. 'I don't have long. I must attend meetings in the city, so let's discuss only what matters.'

'As you wish, Don Fredo.' The newly appointed Capo Zona respectfully nodded.

'Operations in our eastern sector will now be run by you. These are mainly the entertainment and the garbage collection and disposal businesses. Sal will take you through the books and show you the revenue splits that will come directly to me and what may be kept by yourself and your crew, when you have picked them.'

Valsi let the offer sink in. Garbage collection and disposal in Naples had long been Camorra controlled and it was profitable. The economics were simple. The more toxic, the more deadly, the more profitable. But even the bottom-end business of just clearing factory and business trash was also booming. Right now, garbage was piled two metres high on many street corners as the clans in the System battled with councils for control of contracts and areas. 'I know this business is profitable. Good money, no doubt, and I will take care of it. But please tell me of the entertainment interests that we have. I need some glamour as well as sacks of garbage.'

Finelli smiled. 'There are five nightclubs and six restaurants. Pepe's accounts will be sent over to you. There are also several escort businesses, including two new online agencies. Our porn output is small, but we have both film pirating and magazine production.'

'Glamour aplenty.'

'Indeed. There are also some run-down businesses that need attention, particularly camping and holiday-villa sites. They are spread between Naples and Herculaneum, and Herculaneum and Pompeii.'

'My favourite place as a child,' said Valsi. 'I know so much about Pompeii that I could get a job there as a tour guide.'

'Let's hope it doesn't come to that,' the Don smiled. 'It's a good time for you to take over these businesses. Pepe Capucci was going soft. We need to squeeze the margins, generate some more cash. If Pepe hadn't given himself a heart attack I'm sure, in the end, he would have given me one.' The old man put his hand on Valsi's arm. 'But squeeze gently. Do it with charm, Bruno. Our Family are not known as bullies. We provide jobs and incomes in many parts of our district. I want to keep respect and goodwill.'

'I understand,' said Valsi.

Don Fredo dipped into his jacket and produced a small, slim brown envelope. 'There is something in there to get you on your feet again.'

Valsi looked surprised. 'You were very generous when I was in prison. I know Gina is your daughter as well as my wife, but we were more than well provided for.'

'Bruno, please don't insult me by questioning my gift.'

Valsi took the hint. He used a table knife to slit the envelope.

'You will find something more than money in there,' added the old man.

Valsi pulled out four undated cheques totalling €200,000. He quickly did some calculations. On top of the monthly wages of €5,000 that he'd received while in jail, he'd now pocketed a total of half a million for his five years inside.

Loyalty money. Money to buy you. To curb your ambition. 'You are most kind,' he said, nodding politely as he folded away the cheques.

'You missed something.' Don Fredo spoke over the cup as he sipped his espresso. 'I think you will find another enclosure in there.'

Valsi tipped the envelope and shook it. A slip of paper fluttered on to the table. On it was a name that was painfully familiar to him. And an address that he'd been long searching for.

Finelli dabbed his lips with a white linen napkin. 'It can be done quickly. Salvatore has the men ready and waiting for you. I'm sure you'll feel much better when it's over.'