The Venetian and the Rum Runner - L.A. Witt Page 0,156

thing, and that there had to be a more peaceful way. When Father Carroll looked at him, though, something had hardened in his eyes, and it came through in his voice too: “Whatever it takes. How does Danny stay safe in the meantime?”

Carmine blinked, startled by the response. Then he cleared his throat and looked at Danny. “You need to keep your head down for a while. And I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay in that apartment. If Salvatore hasn’t figured out where you live, he will before long.”

Danny stiffened. “Where would you have me go?”

Carmine thought about it. “I think you’re safest here.”

“Here?” Danny’s eyes widened. “In your house?”

Nodding, Carmine said, “Salvatore won’t dare make a move on you here, and anyway, I have security. More than your tenement ever will.” He gestured over his shoulder. “I can have a bedroom set up for you, and—”

“What about the crew?” Danny asked. “If I’m here and I‘m keeping my head down, that means I can’t—”

“Do you trust them to run without you?”

“Of course I do. But we’re already down one man. And, um, one woman.”

Carmine tried not to bristle at the reminder that Giulia had been a member of the crew for a time. “Under the circumstances, I think they may have to do without you for a while. Until this situation is resolved.”

Danny looked like he wanted to argue. Like he desperately wanted to argue. But he didn’t. Hopefully that meant that, despite his bone-deep stubbornness, even he could see how painfully limited his choices were right now.

Carmine looked at Father Carroll. “What about you? There ain’t many gangsters who’ll touch a man of the cloth, but clearly Salvatore is an exception.”

To his surprise, the two Irishmen chuckled, sharing another look.

“Oh,” Father Carroll said with an odd smile, “I don’t think he knows who or what I am.”

Carmine eyed them both. “I, um…”

“He’s right,” Danny said. “Salvatore won’t know him on sight. Not like he will me.”

Still dubious, Carmine said, “This man won’t hesitate to shoot you if he knows you’re the one who broke his hand defending Danny.”

Danny and Father Carroll looked at each other, and something unspoken seemed to pass between them. Then the priest faced Carmine and cleared his throat. “As far as Salvatore knows, it wasn’t a priest fighting him off last night. It, um, wasn’t even a man.”

Carmine blinked.

Father Carroll sat a little straighter. “It was outside Daisy’s. Where I spend my evenings, though I’d just as soon the others at Old St. Patrick’s don’t hear of it. Especially what I do there and, well, who I am there.”

It took a second for Carmine to put the pieces together. “Oh. Oh.” He sat back and exhaled. “All right. So he won’t recognize you. As long as we can keep Danny well-guarded until Salvatore is taken care of…” He shrugged, but then sat up a little. “Though I think people might talk if they see…” He gestured at his own face.

Father Carroll jumped. “Oh. Yes. Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

Carmine nodded. “So you’re welcome here as well. Until it’s safe for you to go back out.”

“Thank you.”

Carmine suspected that Danny at least would be more stubborn about the arrangement once he’d recovered a little from last night. Today, he was exhausted and shaken, and that was enough to make even a man as proud as Danny retreat for a time. In a few days, well…that remained to be seen.

For the moment, Danny and the priest were willing to stay in Carmine’s house and accept his protection from Salvatore il Sacchi. Mama instructed the house staff to prepare the unused bedroom upstairs across the hall from Carmine’s.

Father Carroll needed to use the telephone to let the church know he’d be away a few days, so while he was in Carmine’s office, Danny and Carmine went upstairs to the room the men would be sharing.

Danny stood silently for a moment, seeming to take in his surroundings. It was a smaller bedroom than Carmine’s, but the bed was comfortable and there were drawers and closets for any belongings he and Father Carroll needed to store. With a sigh, Danny turned to Carmine. “Shame I can’t stay in your bed, isn’t it?”

Carmine frowned. “It is.” He wished they could share the same bed too. Not even so they could have another feverish night like the one that hadn’t been far from his mind—just so he could be sure Danny was safe. “I’ll take care of Salvatore.