After grabbing my laptop out of the duffel bag, I headed into the study and closed the door behind me. I plugged the thumb drive into the port, hit the button to play and leaned over my computer, listening.

The quality was shit, grainy as fuck. Mateo’s equipment either sucked, or he wasn’t wired right. I could make out Victor Scava’s voice, his laugh grating on me, his mood swings in the span of a few minutes giving me whiplash. The man was insane, clearly. He’d say one thing, then the exact opposite just a few minutes later.

Much of the conversation was useless, at least for my purposes. He talked about moving drugs. Moving money. I didn’t care about those things. I wanted to know about the trafficking. I wanted to hear Roman’s voice.

Mateo must have been recording for a good month. I wondered how they’d figured out he was wired. I thought of how they’d killed him. Right then, Victor laughed again. I fisted my hands.

“Sadistic motherfucker.”

How are you different?

I shut down that voice and listened, replaying a piece here or there. It was only toward the end that things got interesting.

I never did hear Roman’s voice. There was one time Victor talked on the phone with someone. Victor was pissed after that call. The conversation was about moving product. This particular product, I figured out, was living and breathing. Whoever he was talking to was tearing Victor a new one. Victor had fucked up apparently. Typical. After he hung up was when I knew who it was.

“That fucking asshole thinks he’s the boss of me! Fucking imposter. He thinks he can tell me what to do. First old man Scava and now him.”

“Take him out, boss?”

Static.

“No. Can’t do that, not yet.”

Silence. Static.

“If my pussy uncle found out—”

Static cut off the rest of the sentence. When Victor came back in, he was laughing and someone was getting hit.

“I have a much better idea. The fucker’s gonna die, but it’s not gonna be me to do it.”

A struggle, someone grunting. More punches followed, the sound of furniture breaking.

I thought of Mateo watching the beating, maybe administering it. I wondered what had gone through his head then. He had to know what would happen to him if Victor found the wire.

“The Benedetti imposter’s gonna get what’s coming to him. I’ll let my uncle be the one to do it, though.”

“How, boss?”

“Thinks I’m fucking stupid. Thinks I don’t know he’s keeping me on as his fall guy, treating me like some fucking foot soldier and taking over what I started. What rightfully belongs to me!”

My heart raced. Static cut him off, but I had everything I needed.

“I’ll let my uncle dig his and that asshole’s grave.”

Static again, then laughter.