A Savage Betrayal

‘He had a partner. He was arrested last night. Sandro was picked up at the airport early this morning.’

Mina was as still as a statue but her brain was ticking over at supersonic speed.

Cesare cleared his throat. ‘Are you telling me that Sandro was involved with Felix Severn?’

‘Heavily involved.’ Louise Falcone sank down heavily on to a chair, suddenly looking exhausted. ‘He came to me before he went to the airport. He was so terrified, he told me everything.’

‘And would everything include…insider dealing?’ Cesare prompted unsteadily. Mina’s gaze flew to his carved profile but there was nothing to be read there.

‘That’s the least of it,’ his mother moaned. ‘He’s also been embroiled in several crooked deals in the insurance field. Severn was the front man. Sandro stayed in the background, putting up the finance, drumming up contacts …but you don’t need to worry——’

‘I don’t need to worry?’ Cesare repeated in a savage undertone. ‘Mamma, if only you knew!’

‘Sandro hasn’t implicated Falcone Industries in any way!’ his mother stressed, keen to make that point.

‘I removed him from the board three years ago…how could he?’

‘You humiliated him,’ Louise condemned, her face twisting resentfully.

‘But he was already up to his throat in crooked deals at that point, was he not?’ Cesare pressed.

‘Yes but how did you know that? Oh, what does it matter?’ the older woman mumbled wearily. ‘At least you’re here now. Your lawyer is at the police station with him. I fixed that. You can arrange bail——’

‘The legal system is different here. In any case, if the police picked him up at the airport, he’ll be kept in custody. Sandro will run if he gets the chance…’

‘Cesare…what’s the matter with you?’ Louise Falcone lifted her head and stared accusingly at her elder son. ‘This is your brother we’re talking about. He needs your help and support.’

Mina’s knees were wobbling. Reeling with shock, she slumped down on to a chair and studied the carpet. It could only have be

en Sandro who set her up four years ago. But why? Why had Sandro done that to her? To cover his own tracks? Had he been afraid that Cesare either was or would become suspicious of his activities?

Or had there been a more personal element in his choice of her as the victim? Sandro had certainly disliked and resented her for repeatedly brushing off his approaches. That resentment could well have flamed into outrage that morning in the penthouse apartment when he realised that she had spent the night with his brother. Mina covered her chilled face with trembling hands.

‘Sandro has never broken the law before,’ his mother proclaimed in his defence.

‘But he’s lied all his life,’ Cesare murmured so faintly that Mina had to strain to hear him.

‘He needs our help and understanding!’ Louise gasped. ‘You can’t turn your back on him. He’s your brother!’

‘Mea culpa——’

‘Oh, don’t start talking in Italian again!’ his mother said shrilly.

‘It was Latin——’

‘Whatever. You’re so foreign, Cesare. You’re like your father. I’ve never been able to understand you and now my poor, sweet Sandro——’ Louise broke down into hysterical sobbing.

With difficulty Mina dragged herself forcibly from shock and stood up. ‘Cesare, I think you should go to the police station.’

His eyes were winter-dark and bleak, his superb bone-structure painfully prominent beneath his skin. ‘What do I say now to you?’ he muttered thickly.

Mina moved closer, understanding that, like her, Cesare was fathoms-deep in shock and aeons from any ability to feel concern for Sandro’s predicament but he also had to appreciate that his mother had no idea why he should feel like that.

‘The evidence in the file he gave me seemed foolproof,’ he murmured unevenly, thrusting splayed fingers through his thick black hair. ‘Your signature, your voice on a taped phone call, the bank statements. He went to a lot of trouble over that file. Forgery…the tape must have been doctored, the statements you explained——’

‘Not now.’ Mina had to pitch her voice to be heard above his mother’s sobs. ‘Save it for later. It’s not important.’

‘Not important?’ Cesare repeated dazedly.