Dark Harbor (Stone Barrington 12)

Dino rang the bell, and the front door was opened by just such a servant, Pietro, a cadaverous sixty-year-old who had once had a fearsome reputation as an assassin. But that was back in the days when Eduardo was still taking an active part in the ruling of his Cosa Nostra family, which ran large parts of Brooklyn and Manhattan.

Eduardo had since, over the past thirty years, made himself into an elder statesman of everything: the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the New York Public Library and nearly every important charity in the city. His Mafia connections had been mostly forgotten by the very few surviving people who knew anything about them. But Dino knew Eduardo still had the power to deal with people in any way he saw fit.

Pietro led Dino through the elegantly appointed house into the rear garden, where Eduardo sat at a table set for two. Eduardo rose and offered his hand, a good sign, Dino thought.

“Dino, welcome,” the old man said. He carried his eighty-odd years lightly, looking trim, even athletic, and there was only a little gray in his hair. “Please sit down and have some lunch.”

Dino sat “Beautiful day,” he said, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Yes, one appreciates good weather as one grows older,” Eduardo noted.

A waiter came and opened a bottle of Frascati, while another man set before them plates of bruschetta, little slices of bread fried in olive oil, then topped with chopped plum tomatoes, garlic and basil. Dino tried not to eat too greedily, but Eduardo’s younger sister was the best cook he had ever known, and he loved bruschetta.

“I understand things didn’t go well yesterday,” Eduardo said.

“That’s understating the case,” Dino replied.

“You know that I disapproved of your marriage to Anna Maria,” the old man said. He refused to refer to her as Mary Ann, as she preferred to be called.

“Yes, I knew that.”

“I was, of course, upset that Anna Maria was pregnant, but my principal objection was that you were a policeman.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Dino said.

“However, as the years have passed I have come to respect your personal integrity. You would never allow me to use my influence to improve your position in the police department, though I could easily have done so, and you would never accept any gift from me, insisting that everything be in Anna Maria’s name. I realize now that you are being divorced, that works to your disadvantage.”

Dino shrugged. “All I want is shared custody of Benito,” he said.

“You will have that,” Eduardo said. “I do not approve of divorce, being a good Catholic, but I understand that people can come to a place in their lives where they can no longer live together, and I see little reason to deny them remarriage at some point. I once put that directly to the Pope, who was unhappy with me for a while, as a result.”

Dino thought that the Pope would have been at a disadvantage, arguing with Eduardo.

“You are aware, are you not, that Anna Maria has worked very hard at investing the money that came to her when she was twenty-one?”

“We never discussed that,” Dino said. “I told her I didn’t want to know.”

“I understand your position, but I assure you that the funds she started with came from entirely legitimate sources, and that that can be documented to the satisfaction of the New York Police Department or even the Internal Revenue Service.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Dino said.

“You have lived a long time in an unhappy marriage,” Eduardo said, “and the law entitles you to an equitable division of property.”

“I don’t want her property,” Dino said, though the thought of existing on a lieutenant’s salary and benefits did not thrill him.

“Anna Maria was able to do so well with her investments because you insisted on supporting her. That way, she could devote all her capital to making more.”

Dino shrugged.

“You are morally entitled to leave this marriage with more than you earn as a policeman,” Eduardo said, “so I have made certain arrangements.”

Dino said nothing but started in on the veal that had been placed before him.

“Anna Maria’s holdings now amount to about eleven million dollars, including the value of the apartment you shared, which was bought with earnings from her money. Tomorrow, a million dollars of her holdings will be placed in the trust that you set up at Benito’s birth and to which you would never allow me to contribute. This will be used as you have specified, for his education, and anything left over can be used to buy a home after he is twenty-five, though surely by that time he will have come into a considerable inheritance from me.”

“That’s very generous of her,” Dino said. This was Eduardo’s move, of course, not Mary Ann’s, but it lifted a load from his mind.

“Further, five million dollars of her funds go to you, as a complete and total settlement. I know you do not want any part of the apartment or any other wealth deriving from me.”