Fear Her Wrath II: Crucible of Glass

Chapter 50

Two hours later.

I didn't have the best history with mob weddings. The last time the gangsters of Marbrose City gathered for one, it ended with me finding out my boyfriend was a mass-murdering supervillain. So I was a little leery of slipping into Carmine Aurelio's compound in the middle of the celebrations. The bride and groom had already left for Santo Domingo, but that hadn't put a stop to the revelry of the guests.

I guess when your grandfather, the consigliere of the Montagnese crime family, is paying for the wedding, you don't worry about how much wine gets drunk after you're gone.

That also meant, however, that even the guards were tipsy, so me and Gabriel didn't have too much trouble scaling the walls of the Aurelio residence undetected. Carmine Aurelio lived in Mersey Village—just across the river from Hmong Town—in a Roman-style palazzo, surrounded by the mansions of other Marbrose City bigshots. While it was technically in the North Wards, this neighborhood was insulated from the crime and decay all around it by a cooperative police force and a high stone wall with a guard at each gate. Nonetheless, provided a convenient way for certain local politicians to claim that they lived in the North Wards without actually having to remember to lock their doors at night.

The courtyard of the Aurelio compound was deserted because of the rain, but I could see some of the guests loitering about in the pavilion or under the colonnades that wrapped around most of the manor. Several familiar faces had made the guest list. Albert Rosinski—half-sloshed on anisette—was complaining loudly about his troubles with the unions to a bored-looking Dalton Reaves. I still couldn't figure how he'd been able to hold onto the Polish mob for all this time. Nick Tomassi, meanwhile, was passed out drunk next to a modern replica of a Roman statue of Minerva, his dark curls dangling over his face. I also saw James Greenwald—city councilman for the eastern Fen and also the groom's grandfather—sitting at a table with Frankie Markopolos and Tom Devaney, who'd replaced the late Benjamin Lynam as political boss of the North Wards. Whenever I saw all the evil in Marbrose City gathered in one place like this, I couldn't help but fantasize about what would've happened if I had pulled that lever.

Carmine Aurelio's office was in an upstairs room that opened onto a small balcony. I used my grapple gun to get myself up and pulled the Whippowil up after me by his cane. The double doors of the balcony were locked, and Gabriel immediately got to work. I figured a man like Carmine Aurelio would have an electrical alarm to protect his inner sanctum, but Gabriel forced the lock without any trouble and pulled the doors slightly ajar. We were about to slip inside when Gabriel froze, cocked his head, then held a finger to his lips. After a second, I heard it too: footsteps coming down the passage outside the room. We concealed ourselves in the shadows on either side of the balcony just in time. The handle turned, and the office door swung open.

Four people entered the room. The first was a small man—middle aged, with light brown hair and an agitated stiffness of manner. The next was Augusto Vaccari, followed closely by Fritz Marlene in her usual monocle and tuxedo. The last was a wizened, stooping man with piercing eyes and a face lined with age and cunning. This was Carmine Aurelio—caporegime of the eastern Fen and consigliere to Don Montagnese.

Carmine Aurelio was the oldest of the leaders within the Montagnese family, having been a caporegime since Lucian Montagnese was a young boy growing up in Queens. Those of you who are mafia buffs have probably noticed that the structure of the Cosa Nostra in Marbrose City is a little... unusual. Well-connected gangsters got made early—often in their twenties—so there was a hierarchy even among the soldiers based on generational seniority. That was why made men like Nick Tomassi and Billy the Comb still deferred to Frankie Markopolos, who was (nominally, at least) their equal in rank. There was no underboss in the Montagnese family, since Don Lucian presumably intended to rule Marbrose City indefinitely—extending his life with Eugene Rothko's machine whenever old age started catching up with him. Besides, with the city council and the police force on his side, he had no fear of ever being indicted.