The study was quiet, darkened by the dim lights. It screamed of sophistication and elegance, from the furniture to the books on the shelves. There was a hint of cigar in the air. Nobody dared to smoke there now but it was still there. A bowl of apples rested on a table near the desk; there was something sinister about them, like a dark aura lurking. There were five people in the room. Four men and one woman. The woman's face was hidden by the shadows where the dim lights of the chandeliers wouldn't conquer. She was behind the desk, sitting on a comfortable chair, her fingers entwined and her hands on the desk's surface. They were fine and gentle, the man could see. Watching him closely was a man holding a hat in his hands. The others were just there, sitting on the couch with their hats sitting on the knees of their crossed legs with glasses of scotch on their hands.
"I believe in America, Signora. I made my fortune here. Had my daughter here and raised her in the American ways. She started dating some American boy and I let her, but he wasn't good to her. He beat the daylights out of her. She almost died. I called the police, I went to court..."
The man paused for a second. The feminine silhouette behind the desk moved a lace-gloved hand towards the man and a glass of water was given to him by the man holding the hat. When he finally calmed down enough to speak, his words came in sobs. "The bastard was freed of all charges for lack of proof. She won't testify because she's afraid. I came to you because I know you'll make sure proper justice is served. I'll do anything, pay anything to see that man out of her life for good!"
"And what do you want me to do?" The man lifted himself from the chair where he was seated, walked to Regina, kneeled beside her and spoke in her ear. "You interrupt my time with my son to ask me that? I can't do that and I am offended you ask it of me."
"Please, Signora! It's my only daughter." He cried, looking up to her beautiful face. Her shoulder-length hair would curl out and touch the strap of her light blood red summer's dress matching the feather's on her Parisian designer black half hat with a net falling down to her chin. The only jewellery that could be found on her, would be a golden chain around her neck harbouring a very modest wedding band. That object around her neck, plus the fact that she had a child, triggered in him the feeling that, if he kept on pleading, this family woman would understand his predicament. Yet, what he didn't know was that she was already a widow and that modest little ring hadn't been given to her by her former husband along with his wedding vows; he didn't know that along the many monikers people had to refer to her, such as Evil Queen or Regina Cattiva (the Italian men downtown preferred that particular one to discourage their children from their usual mischiefs) and even La Donna, there was the colourful 'Black Widow' one and it wasn't without reason. But he knew, if she wanted to kill him, she would. And should his blood spill on her dress, nobody would notice. It would appear clean of any substance. The colours would happily mingle.
"The police and the system fail you and you come grovelling to me, begging for help. We have known each other for years. I was a friend of your daughter's and yet you barely spoke to me. You didn't like me, I was told. And now you come to me to ask justice. I would turn my eyes if you had been more respectful, but you haven't." She said, with a tone that reeked of boredom.
"She was your friend you grew up together, please! I'll do everything you ask. I beg you, good Regina. You'll have my loyalty and my eternal gratitude and friendship." The man said, kissing the hand she had resting on her lap.
"Alright." she said, without a hint of emotion.
"Sei cosà gentile! Grazie, Signora! Grazie mille!", the man said in joy.
"Prego.", she whispered. "I'll do what I can. Go now and don't worry; it will be done. Shall I come for you for anything, will you do as I ask?"
"Yes, Signora. Anything!"
"Good. Have a lovely evening, Giovanni." She said, her mouth smiling widely; her smile, however, he saw, didn't reach her eyes. They remained cold, dead to the world.
The man disappeared, escorted by the three men that had been sitting and seeping from their glasses. Only two people remained. Regina got up from her chair, removing her hat and gloves and walked around the badly lighten office. She looked outside. It was such a splendid day of July. Her little boy was playing outside, sitting on the green grass with all his toys scattered around him. She could hear his laughter and smiled at it, and it reached her eyes. He was four, that magical age...
"What shall we do?" the male voice spoke. She did not take her eyes from the boy playing happily in the garden.
"Send Hunter to get Callas and tell her to find the man Giovanni told us about and sing him "Die Forelle" by the river. I want it done by sunset. He might find her at DiAvolo's house, drinking, as usual. After that, find Neal Tremotino. Tell him that his son loved his gift and regrets that he wasn't able to visit him for the last three weeks and that being busy fooling around with some blond floozy flapper wannabe, as usual, is not a good excuse to not see his son. Remind him that I am very grateful to have Henry in my life but make sure he understands that I won't be so merciful next time he knocks another girl up and comes to me for help. Make sure he understands the message, Jefferson."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Good. Now, if you happen to see Mal Augurio around, tell her I'm in the garden with Henry and to not bring her business into my house if she thinks of herself as my friend. Understood?"
"Of course, Ma'am."
The woman got out of the room to the luminous corridor, leaving Jefferson behind. The young man put his hat on and left as well and went to work. It would be a very busy day.