Bruno returned to his bar under the cover of night, the heavy suitcase with the money disappeared unnoticed under the bed, becoming his future safety cushion. The 60 million belli reward for Roland's surrender to the authorities more than covered all the upcoming possible expenses. The night was surprisingly quiet, as if the city was holding its breath after the chaos of recent events. But Bruno didn't have to rest for long.
When he reached the bottom, he found three customers waiting for him near the stairs. It was Lucci in a clever disguise, with Kalifa and Kaku with him. Their looks left no doubt: they had come for an explanation.
"I have important information," Bruno said without unnecessary greetings, coming closer. — Tom's second student is most likely alive. He's hiding somewhere in the city among the criminals.
The CP9 agents exchanged surprised glances. This news revived them. For four and a half years, their search around the Iceberg came to a dead end. Any new clue was worth its weight in gold to them.
"I've already started taking steps to ingratiate myself with the mafia," Bruno continued after a pause.
Lucci did not respond immediately, he was evaluating the new information and thinking about the next steps. Then, in a restrained but firm voice, he said:
— Do not disrupt the operation by your actions.
With these words, the agents got up and disappeared as quietly as they had appeared. Bruno watched them go, and then set about cleaning up, preparing for the reception of new guests.
A soft lamp illuminated the bar, casting long shadows on the walls. After a while, the door quietly opened, and a thin man appeared in the doorway. His thick, slightly tousled hair, thin mustache, longer than his face, and slit eyes gave him both a comical and sinister appearance. He was dressed in a brown striped suit, complemented by a cane, which he used more for effect than for support. His unsteady gait made one doubt his sobriety or sanity.
"Good night, mio Caro," came his thick Italian—accented voice as soon as he stopped rocking. — My name is Kapodel Lamafia. I am very grateful to you for your intervention today.
—Good night,— Bruno replied shortly, continuing to wipe the counter. — I wasn't helping you, I was just settling personal scores.
—That's right, that's right, mio caro,— Capodel grinned, as if ignoring the barb. "But let me express my gratitude.
He held out a business card with black lettering and gold letters that reflected the lamplight.
— If you have any difficulties, just call. I'll try to help in any way I can.
Bruno nodded, putting the card in his pocket, clearly showing no interest. But I, watching what was happening from my hidden position, was pleased. The rumors had an effect, and the mafia believed in Bruno's legend. The confirmation of this was the feeling of enhanced digestion of the potion, which filled me like a quiet tide.
—And one more thing,— Capodel added, with a twinkle in his eyes. — If you want, you can always join the Lamafia family. Our networks cover almost the entire island. You can get anything with us.
—Anything?" Bruno asked with interest, looking up.
"Almost,— Capodel grinned, unequivocally ending the subject.
— Okay. And how do I find your family?
—Oh, lovely, there's no need to look for anything. Not to you, mio caro. Come with me."
Capodel motioned for Bruno to follow him. They stepped out into the cool night air. The soft light of the lanterns was reflected in puddles, and the streets seemed infinitely empty, as if the city itself had retreated before the appearance of Capodel.
Slowly, as if reluctantly, he led Bruno through the winding alleys until they reached a residential area. Here, among the typical multi-storey buildings, the mansion stood out. It was a three-storey cottage with a surprisingly wide layout. It was four times as long as the neighboring buildings, and twice as wide.
As soon as we entered the building, our eyes immediately fell on the wounded soldiers. They were lying right on the long tables, from which blood was still dripping onto the wooden floor in some places. Dirty bandages wrapped around their arms and torsos did not hide the lacerations. Servants were scurrying back and forth, someone was holding a basin of hot water, someone was wringing out a cloth, leaving drops of cloudy liquid on the floor. The air was saturated with a mixture of the metallic smell of blood, alcohol and burning, and in the corner the burning fragments of some furniture crackled faintly.
Passing through this room, we entered a hall, the walls of which were decorated with faded paintings of seascapes. Half-eaten dishes and empty wine glasses lay on the central table, fingerprints on the glass spoke of the haste with which they left the meal. There was an overturned chair to the side, its leg was broken.
The staircase to the second floor looked like a work of art.: massive railings decorated with carvings in the form of snakes, probably representing cunning or power. Old brass lamps hung on the walls, casting a soft glow on the dark wood. The footsteps on the stairs made a loud creaking sound, as if each step was too heavy for this house.
On the second floor, we were led to an office. A massive table made of polished dark wood stood against the wall opposite the window, beyond which the lights of the city could be seen. The shelves along the walls were densely packed with leather-bound books, many of which, judging by the lack of dust, were actually in use. There was a cabinet in the corner, with gold figurines of sea creatures glittering on the glass shelves: sea snakes, sharks, and one huge squid. There are portraits of men in formal suits on the walls, probably former heads of the family.
The only light source was a table lamp with a green shade, which created a cozy but strangely oppressive twilight. There was a stack of papers, an inkwell, and several half-written letters on the table nearby.
He sat down at the table, casually took off his cane, resting it on the edge, and sighed theatrically.
"As you have noticed, mio caro, my people... my BROTHERS... suffered today," he said with anguish, spreading his hands as if inviting them to look around.
He took out a small bottle of cloudy liquid from a drawer, took off the lid and took a long sip, rolling his eyes as if he were drinking the most expensive cognac.
"My poor, poor people..." he continued, looking around the room as if seeing the dead in front of him. — But some of them fed their families. But never mind, the Lamafia family always takes care of their own.
Bruno watched the scene in silence, showing no emotion. The capodel was playing a play in front of us. However, there was indeed a grain of sincerity hidden in this excessive drama.
Capodel sighed heavily, waving his arms, and finally came to the point.:
— Despite the grief, as the head of the Lamafia family, I am simply obliged to enlighten you. His voice became more collected, but there was still drama in every word. — As you know, Water 7 is a city where ships are repaired. But, ah, there are always not enough materials. And you know, some ships are not made entirely from legal components.
He paused, as if waiting for Bruno to ask a question, but when he didn't, he continued.:
— When one of the disassemblers or craftsmen needs material that cannot be legally found, we step in. We can bring anything. A sea stone? You are welcome. The sea king's bone? Take it.
At that moment, he proudly leaned on the table, examining the expression on Bruno's face.
— Of course, this is not the only thing we do, but this industry feeds us the best.
When he finished, he paused, lifting a glass of water to wet his throat. Watching him, I knew that there were much darker things behind his words, but he was clearly not going to share them now.
"Today," Capodel continued, putting the glass on the table, "it turned out that the world government is unhappy with our actions. We need time to prove our usefulness anew.
His face became serious. He put his hands on the table and leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between himself and Bruno.
— That's why we want you to temporarily help us fend off unexpected guests. We will pay you a lot of money for this. What do you say?
Bruno rubbed his chin without changing his expression, as if considering the offer. At that moment, I was unhappy. I understood that this was just the tip of the iceberg, and the Lamafia family was hiding much more than they were willing to show. It's just that now it's affecting events where and how I can stage performances. However, it's still a stage, albeit covered with a veil.
— good. Everything is fine with me. Only now I need more details.
Capodel instantly changed from a gloomy mask to a radiant smile.
— Of course! Of course, mio caro! I'll explain everything now.
He spread out the papers in front of Bruno, enthusiastically highlighting the details of their new agreement.