did business. If he wasn’t here, there had to be someone here who could reach him. And if not, well, then Danny was on his own.
Standing there waiting, he prayed this worked. Maybe he shouldn’t have changed out of his bloodstained clothes. He’d wanted to go for respectable and not get the attention of horrified citizens or suspicious police, but he wondered now if the bloody clothes he’d had on earlier would have conveyed the urgency of the situation.
After a few minutes, though, the Italian returned, and he thrust a piece of paper at Danny. “Mr. Masseria is here. He’s expecting you. Don’t keep him waiting.”
Danny glanced at the address on the paper and nodded. “I won’t. Thank you.”
He hurried back outside to where Fedele was waiting. As he slid into the back, he handed him the address. “I was told not to keep Morello waiting.”
“Don’t worry.” Fedele pulled away from the curb. “With Carmine and that priest out there?” He shook his head. “I ain’t keeping nobody waiting who can help.”
Danny smiled and sat back. He’d never imagined being grateful to be working with gangsters, but between the Pulvirentis and the Morellos, he might just have a shot at saving James and Carmine.
In no time, Fedele stopped in front of a small deli. He handed the paper back to Danny. “There’s a password on there. You’ll need it.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Danny took the paper and went inside. At the counter, he casually mentioned the password, and the white-haired man made an equally casual gesture toward the back.
Danny expected a speakeasy, or some underground tunnels like the ones leading to Carmine’s office, but instead, it was an everyday office. Desks. Papers. Pens. Ledgers. Nothing unusual at all.
Nothing except for Joe Masseria and Giuseppe Morello watching him inquisitively.
Masseria wagged a finger at Danny. “You’re that rum runner, ain’t you? The one working for Battaglia?”
“I am.” Danny toed the door shut behind him. “And that’s why I’m here. Carmine—err, Mr. Battaglia needs help.”
“What kind of help?”
Danny quickly filled them in as quickly as he could. “Salvatore says I have until midnight to hand myself over to him, or Battaglia and the priest are dead.” He swallowed. “I doubt he’ll let them live even if I do surrender myself. The man’s insane.”
Thumbing his chin, Masseria furrowed his brow. “And he killed Agosto il Sacchi and Maurizio Pulvirenti. You’re sure of this.”
“As sure as I can be. There was no one left alive in the room except for Salvatore, his men, and Battaglia and the priest. Everyone else…” He shook his head.
Masseria and Morello glanced at each other, both of their expressions full of concern, but otherwise unreadable.
“And his brother,” the consigliere said, “you did kill him?”
Heat rushed into Danny’s face. “I did. Only because he was threatening Battaglia’s sister.”
Morello nodded slowly.
Masseria pursed his lips.
“Please,” Danny said. “Salvatore is going to kill them. I need help. They need help.”
“And what will you do if we don’t?” Masseria asked flatly.
Danny’s heart sank. “Then I’ll surrender myself and hope Salvatore is true to his word and lets them go.”
“Do you think he will?”
A lump rose in Danny’s throat as he shook his head. “No. But it’s either give myself up and hope he stops killing men to get to me, or take my friends in to get killed with me. And I can’t…” He paused to clear his throat. “I won’t do that.” Setting his shoulders back, he looked the boss square in the eyes. “So if you won’t help me, then tell me so I can go there myself.”
Masseria’s eyebrows rose. “You’re gonna take on Salvatore il Sacchi and his men. You. Alone.”
Danny gritted his teeth. “If there’s no one that’ll help me, then what choice have I got?”
Masseria regarded him for a painfully long moment before a faint smile formed. “We’ll help you, kid.”
“You…” Danny’s lips parted. “You will?”
“If this son of a bitch is causing this kind of trouble, and he’s murdered two capos—one of whom is a friend of the Morellos?” Masseria scowled. “Then he’s answering to me.”
Danny closed his eyes as the most profound sense of relief he’d had in a while rushed through him. This wasn’t over, not by far, but he had a powerful ally with an army at his back. That had to count for something, didn’t it?
“Are you sure this will work?” Giulia asked under her breath as Fedele followed the convoy of Masseria’s men through Industry City that night.
“I hope so,” Danny muttered. “Because I don’t