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Chapters (63)
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  2. Books by Stuart Woods
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  63. AUTHOR’S NOTE

“Maybe so. But he got his fingers caught in a wringer when one of his people started talking to the FBI. They put the guy in the Witness Protection Program and the U.S. attorney started putting together a RICO indictment for Casselli. He didn’t stick around for the service of the papers. He got on a plane to Rome, and he’s been there ever since. He has a house in Naples, too, and a place in Positano, where you met him.”

“How did the Italian Mob receive him?”

“Coldly, at first, but they warmed up after a couple of big dons suddenly disappeared, never to be heard from again, and pretty soon Casselli was in the driver’s seat. It took him a little less than a year. Since then, nobody has challenged him. Except Marcel, of course, and you.”

“It’s not like we want to take turf from him.”

“No, you’re already on his turf, and he expects to get his pound of flesh from anybody who treads there.”

“I don’t think I can spare a pound of flesh,” Stone said.

“That’s my boy, just keep annoying him until he rears up and disappears you.”

“That’s encouraging.”

“I just want you to know what you’re up against. Casselli has a long memory, and he can be very patient. The downside is, he can be very impatient, too.”

“Maybe I should have Mike’s people get Marcel out of Rome and back to Paris.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

“By reminding him how close he came to losing everything to the Russians last year.”

“I don’t think Marcel is accustomed to feeling vulnerable,” Dino said. “Maybe you’re underestimating him.”

“I hope so,” Stone said.

17

It was nearly lunchtime when Stone’s new cell phone rang, and the caller ID number was blocked. “Hello?” he said cautiously, prepared to hang up again if it was Casselli.

“Stone, it’s Lance,” Lance Cabot said.

“Lance, how did you get this number?”

“And good day to you, too. Is there some reason I shouldn’t have this number?”

“Yes, I’ve had it for no more than a couple of hours, and I got it for the specific reason that—”

“Yes, yes, I know about all of that. Mr. Casselli was making a pest of himself.”

“Right, and if you can get the number, can’t Casselli?”

“I very much doubt it—after all, I’m the director of fucking Central Intelligence, and I can get anybody’s number. I don’t believe Leo Casselli can. Do you mind very much speaking to me?”

“Of course not, I’m just concerned that I was so easy to find.”

“Oh, all right, when I got an out-of-order recording on your old number, I called your secretary, Joan, and she gave me the new one. I don’t think she would give it to Casselli, so stop worrying.”