times," Umberto continued. "She mostly frequented that place you went to in Soho, you know… The Place. Guess they hung out at the bar. But we saw some hits in Jersey and figured it had to be something for her to come into Brazzi territory, so we put the pieces together, and here we are."
Dante lowered the beam of his flashlight. "Matteo was staying in Soho, in the apartment above that bar."
"How do you know?"
"I just do."
Dante didn't elaborate. He didn't owe anybody an explanation.
Looking away, he strolled into the kitchen, glancing around the quiet house. Umberto set off in the opposite direction, disappearing down a hallway. The place was stocked with essentials, but nothing personal could be found. Nothing more than a safe house, Dante gathered, as he checked cabinets and drawers. It wasn't really anybody's home. He moved to the dining room, finding a table with a few chairs, and plopped down in one as he shined his flashlight around.
"There's nothing here," Dante called out. "This is a waste of time."
Not worth the trouble, either. They had enough problems. Why risk enraging the Brazzis for crossing borders and invading territory?
"You're right." Umberto appeared from the hallway, heading straight to the front door. "Let's get out of here."
Dante followed him, pausing in the living room when the slight scent of something infiltrated his nose. It smelled rotten. "Do you smell that?"
"I smell nothing," Umberto said, "but we've got to get out of here before somebody catches us."
A car pulled onto the cul-de-sac then, headlights flashing toward the window, making Umberto freeze. He cut his flashlight out at once, while Dante pointed his at the floor. Strolling to the window, he pushed two slats apart to peek through the blinds. A black car pulled into the driveway across the street, cutting the engine after parking in the garage. As the garage door came down, the man strolled toward the front porch of the house, swinging his keys around his fingers, in no rush to get inside. He was too far away for Dante to get a good look at him.
"You seriously don't smell anything?" Dante asked, shining the flashlight at Umberto. It wasn't a strong odor, but it was distinct.
Umberto shook his head, but under the glow of the light, Dante saw his nose twitch. Damn right he smelled it. Dante shined his flashlight down the hall, about to make his way there when another car sped into the cul-de-sac, whipping into the driveway of the house right next door. Dante turned off the flashlight, glancing out the window.
"Hey, yo!" a voice called out, way too close for comfort, as a shadowy figure cut across the front lawn, heading toward the street. "Russo!"
Russo.
Son of a bitch.
It couldn't be, could it?
Dante parted the blind again, watching as the man across the street paused at the sound of that name. He waited for the other guy to join him, the two of them chatting before going their separate ways.
They needed to get out of there.
As soon as both men went inside, Dante slipped out of the house, Umberto right on his heels. Panic wafted from him, his eyes darting around, his steps hurried, while Dante took the time to lock the house up again.
"Don't bother," Umberto hissed back at him. "We've gotta go. This neighborhood is full of Brazzis. I'm talking top-level Brazzis. We can't be caught here."
Dante said nothing, his gaze sweeping along the numbers affixed to the front of the house before trekking back to the car. He slid into the passenger seat, barely getting the door closed before they sped away from the neighborhood. Umberto was uncharacteristically quiet on the drive back into the city, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he kept glancing in the rearview mirror, like he expected something. Silence grew into something more, that suffocating cloud of distrust forming. Something was off about it. Something was rotten.
"What did you do?" Dante asked, his voice serious.
"Nothing."
His answer was immediate.
"What did you do, Bert?" Before he could once again spout out with 'nothing', Dante said, "You lie to me again and I swear to God, I'll run this car off the fucking bridge with both of us in it."
Umberto hesitated.
"Nothing," he said as he settled back into his seat. "Just a little gas leak."
Dante closed his eyes. A gas leak. The house was uninhabited. The gas would build and build, undisturbed. It was like setting a bomb dead center of Brazzi territory. All it needed