Page 21 of The Enforcer

My phone rings, and I answer it as Salvo collects himself and begins to speak. I don’t need to hear this. I know what kind of man I am.

“Ciao.”

“Alfonso,” the voice says. I recognize Tommaso’s thick Sicilian accent.

“Si.”

“We have a problem.”

“No,” I say. “We cannot.”

I can hear the shrug in his voice. “And yet we do. Do you want to hear it, or would you prefer to waste more time living in denial? I can call you later if you would like.”

“Alright,” I say, shaking my fist at the air even though he’s not here to see it. “Tell me.”

“Someone broke into my home yesterday,” he says in an affronted voice.

“What a disgrace,” I say. “What is the world coming to?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea, my friend. But I just wanted to let you know that someone tried to steal that antique armoire you gave me. I would have been devastated if they’d taken such an important gift.”

I grunt, my mind already working, pulling all of these pieces together.

“I used to think my home was the safest place on earth, but I’m beginning to believe that I was wrong.”

I grunt again. “That really is a shame. I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll understand if you need to return the gift.”

“I hope it won’t come to that, but it’s an avenue we should explore.”

“Let me consider the options for transportation, and I’ll contact you.”

“Of course. I’ll wait for your call.”

I nod and hang up. I am not the brains of this operation — I would never want to be — but even I can see that something is happening, and if we don’t act now, it could turn into something very dangerous.