“So am I. I have the greatest respect for the intelligence and integrity that my son-in-law brings to his work. His manners are another matter.”
“Dino is, sometimes, a bit too frank.”
Bianchi laughed for the first time, revealing magnificent dental work. “One could say that. He is not, you understand, disrespectful—not to my face, at least. But as a modern Italian-American, he does not fully grasp the meaning of my family’s history. Dino is from a northern Italian family, whereas we are Sicilian. Our customs are very old, and they still shape our daily lives in ways that Dino cannot fully appreciate.”
“I see.”
“Perhaps you do; perhaps not. It is paradoxical that honor is so important to both Dino and me, and yet, we take very different paths to the upholding of honor. Dino does not yet understand that I approved of his marriage to Anna Maria.”
Stone could not resist. “Approved? It was my understanding that you insisted on it.”
Bianchi laughed again. “Well, yes, I suppose I did. A wedding in the presence of a shotgun is not unknown in my family. In fact, there was one present at my own marriage. And my wife and I had a richly rewarding marriage for forty-one years, before her death last year.”
“I believe Dino and Mary Ann have such a marriage,” Stone said.
“I hope you are right,” Bianchi said. “What I know of the marriage tends to come from Anna Maria, and sometimes I am not sure whether she is more motivated by loyalty than by love.”
“I assure you, she is not.”
“Thank you, Mr. Barrington; you have made an old man feel better.” Then his face clouded. “A man’s daughters are important to him,” he said, hesitantly. “And when I heard that an attempt had been made on Anna Maria’s life, I was very angry.”
“I can understand that.”
“Since I have no sons, my grandson is extremely important to me, and now he cannot even attend his school.”
“I know.”
“But I have held my temper. I understand that it is Dino’s place—both by dint of his place in her life and by his work—to correct this situation. It is only right that he should have that opportunity. However, to date, his best efforts have been insufficient.”
“It is a difficult case,” Stone said. “In a situation like this, Dino is at a very great disadvantage.”
“Revenge is always difficult, even tedious, when it must be accomplished within the framework of the laws of this country,” Bianchi said.
“You do understand, though, that the only way Dino can deal with this is within the law?”
“I do understand, and that is why I have been so patient. However, my patience is not inexhaustible, and I am not required to operate under the same constraints as Dino.” He gazed at Stone. “Neither, for that matter, are you.”
Stone did not reply to that.
“I understand that you, too, were once a policeman, and that now you are a lawyer, and that your background and inclinations may cause you also to feel constrained.”
“Yes,” Stone said.
“But, perhaps, not so much as Dino.”
Stone was wary, now, and said nothing.
Bianchi crossed his legs and sipped his port. “I am aware that you spent some days in California last year.”
“Yes, I did.” What was the man getting at?
“And word has reached me that, when you felt wronged by another man, you took the extraordinary step of sinking his very large and very expensive yacht.”
Stone was astonished. “Did you hear this from Dino?”
Bianchi shook his head slowly. “I was, shall we say, indirectly acquainted with the yacht’s owner.”
“I see.”