“How can you say that? Our women are to be respected; we’re supposed to protect them! It’s part of the oath; it’s one of our commandments! How is that not your problem? It’s all of our problem!”
The room fell into a tense silence, and everyone stared at Vincent, stunned. Corrado spoke before the strain could grow. “If you don’t mind, I think we should catch up with Carmine.”
“Yes, do that,” Salvatore said. “Use whatever you need.”
Corrado stood. “Come on.”
Vincent pushed his chair back and followed Corrado out of the room. Whispers started as he exited, but Salvatore demanded silence right away. Vincent shouldn’t have reacted, but he was so disgusted he couldn’t stop himself. Everything he had done had been in vain, a waste of time and energy, because Carmine ended up exactly where he had tried to keep him from going.
And the girl certainly hadn’t been saved.
“You must want to die,” Corrado said, walking through the house. “Speaking to him that way will get you killed.”
Corrado opened a door to a back room and stepped inside. He opened cabinet doors and grabbed weapons, tossing Vincent two .45 Smith & Wessons before pulling out two guns for himself, slipping them into his coat along with more ammunition.
* * *
Giovanni lived not far from Salvatore. The house was empty when Corrado and Vincent arrived, so Corrado slipped around the back and kicked in the door. The two of them headed straight to Giovanni’s office and rifled through drawers and files, looking for anything they might have dug up.
Corrado found a map of Chicago and unfolded it on the desk beside him. Areas of it were circled and crossed out, the entire thing riddled with writing. Vincent recognized some of it as his son’s, the sloppy words scribbled with a frenzied hand.
“They have Ivan’s properties pinpointed on the map, but there’s no way they would’ve taken Haven somewhere with his name on the deed,” Corrado said. “He’s smarter than that. He would’ve found somewhere close to home but far enough away to keep the two separate. Somewhere remote where there’s no chance of her being stumbled upon, but not so isolated that their traffic would draw curious eyes. Somewhere people mind their own business.”
“You would’ve made a good detective,” Vincent mused.
Corrado shot him an incredulous look. “Just because I understand the mind of a criminal doesn’t mean I’d be a good cop.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Vincent said, scrolling through the computer’s history. “You wouldn’t last a day before you got an excessive force complaint.”
Corrado stared at him in silence for a moment before turning to the map, and Vincent focused his attention on Giovanni’s computer. Numerous addresses and names had been searched, but nothing stood out as important.
Corrado pointed to a section of map circled with a pencil. “What’s on this side of Austin?”
“Nothing that I know of,” Vincent said. “Bad neighborhood, a lot of gang activity. Most of the businesses moved out of the area, so there are a lot of vacant buildings.”
“That’s what I thought,” Corrado said. “It’s a money pit, yet Natalia Volkov owns property there.”
“Ivan’s daughter? Isn’t she still a teenager?”
“I believe she just turned nineteen.”
“Sounds odd.”
“It does,” Corrado said. “It also sounds like a good place to start.”
49
The sun had set, darkness falling over Chicago as Vincent and Corrado drove to the west side of the city. A full moon hovered in the sky, a ring of light surrounding it partially shielded by a thin cloud covering. The wind whipped a bit, vibrating the car with its unpredictable gusts.
The lack of communication wore on Vincent’s nerves. He had no idea what his son was up to, what situation he was in, or if he was okay. Giovanni had never given Vincent reason to distrust him, but the fact that it was his soldati that had gone awry didn’t sit well with him. If he had been paying attention, he should have seen it.
Corrado turned off the highway and cruised through the streets. Most of the buildings appeared abandoned, worn down and boarded up. Gang signs were strewn around with spray paint by street thugs who considered themselves hardcore. Men with no true loyalty, no respect within their orders.
Their lack of civility had always disgusted Antonio. He loathed their usage of the word gangster, cringed at their definition of brotherhood. Vincent couldn’t count how many times his father had ranted about it, priding himself on the fact that his organization had respect. They may have committed heinous crimes, but in his mind, all of it was founded. His father took the oath seriously and believed, until the day he died, that they were a true family, la famiglia, with a bond stronger than blood.
Vincent never thought he would see the day where he wished his father was still in control.
“Are you all right, Vincent?” Corrado asked. “We can’t afford second thoughts.”
“I’m not having second thoughts,” he said. “I’m thinking about how disturbed my father would be about this.”
“None of this would be happening if your father were around,” Corrado said. “He was an honorable man, as far as honor goes within our world. Antonio’s organization was united.”
“And now we’re no better than the guys tagging these buildings.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. I think most of us still have our honor. What you’ve done for Haven, after what she’s cost you, is honorable. I can’t say I’d do the same if I were in your position. If it were my wife, I would’ve killed the girl a long time ago.”
“I almost did,” he said. “I wanted to.”
“But you didn’t,” he said. “Instead, you’re risking your life to find her, and that’s where the honor is, Vincent. Sometimes you have to look at the bigger picture.”