Author's note: Hi everyone and thanks for the reviews of the last chapter. Someone commented that I needed scene dividers between my scenes. I had put dividers in, but for some reason they didn't appear when the document was up loaded on to the site. I'm not sure what went wrong, as this has never happened before. I've tried to put dividers into this chapter, but apologies in advance if they don't appear!

Steve followed Ron down the smoky passage way into the depths of the Paradiso club. The walls they passed were covered with oil paintings of Italy. Most were unidentifiable street scenes, markets and children playing in the sun. Others were more recognisable, Steve had never been, but even he knew Venice when he saw it. From somewhere in the back came the strains of music and muffled voices. Steve couldn't make out what they were saying, but could hear the clink of coffee cups and snatches of Italian.

'Sounds like a regular home from home' Ron muttered 'Any minute now we'll be offered a trip on a gondola'

Steve grimaced 'Yeah or a trip to the bottom of the canal with cement boots on'.

Ron nodded 'and I don't have my scuba diving gear with me'.

Abruptly the passage way ended and the two detectives found themselves in a an open bar. A middle aged man wearing a black waistcoat over a white shirt, was polishing the tonic bottles that hung upside down behind the bar. At a large table were seated six men, their ages ranging from late twenties to early sixties. They were playing cards, drinking coffee and smoking. The aroma of cigars was unmistakable and Ron's eyes were already beginning to water. He stifled a cough. The music they had heard earlier was coming from an old gramophone player on the bar. It was probably an antique and irrationally Steve found himself thinking how much his father would like one to play his old 45's.

The two detectives had taken no more than three steps into the room, before their presence was noticed. The men looked up and their conversation stopped abruptly. Two of the younger men rose and stepped in front of them, effectively blocking their way.

'I think we just wandered into an episode of the Sopranos' Steve said under his breath.

Ron nodded 'Looks that way.'

Reaching for his ID, Steve stopped abruptly, as six guns were immediately drawn and pointed directly at the two detectives. The barman had stopped his polishing, and was standing still, the cloth in his hand, his eyes watchful.

Slowly, Steve and Ron raised their hands above their heads.

'Any ideas?' Ron asked out of the side of his mouth.

Steve swallowed hard, looking down at the gun which was currently stuck in his abdomen. If that went off he'd have a lot more than bruised ribs to worry about.

'Take it easy guys' he said calmly, 'we're LAPD, we just want to ask you a few questions.'

Never taking his eyes off the young man before him, Steve slowly reached out his left hand, palm up 'If you could take your gun out of my stomach for a moment, I'll be able to reach across with this hand into my inside pocket and pull out my ID'.

The young man with his gun trained on Steve looked briefly towards the table. One of the older men, a white haired gentleman in his early sixties gave an almost imperceptible nod.

'Alright' the young man said, his voice tinged with an Italian accent 'But make it nice and slow or your friend here' .. he jerked his head towards Ron 'is gonna get your blood all over that fancy shirt and tie of his'.

The gun was pulled back slightly, although still aimed at him. Slowly Steve's fingers inched inside his jacket pocket. He tried not to wince as the movement pulled at his side. Any sudden movements and he knew that these guys would get trigger happy and fast. Carefully he retrieved his ID and held it out towards his assailant.

'Toss it on the table.'

Steve did as he was told and stood quietly whilst the white haired gentleman who had nodded earlier, studied his badge. The gun was back in his stomach, he could feel it pressing against his ribs as he breathed in and out. It wasn't a sensation he enjoyed.

Finally the white haired man spoke 'It's okay Julio, they're legit.'

The gun was removed from Steve's stomach and he let out a deep breath. The two 'body guards' drifted away, although they were still watching.

The white haired man gestured to the two empty seats at the table 'Gentlemen, please take a seat and forgive our lack of manners, but you have to understand that we have necessarily become more security conscious of late'.

Steve nodded, grimacing slightly as he eased himself into the chair 'I imagine that you have' he said 'And we're very sorry for your loss'.

The man nodded 'It has hit my brother very hard. Nicola was his only granddaughter'.

'We were kinda hoping to speak to your brother about that' Ron chipped in 'Is he up to seeing visitors'.

'He's in a meeting right now and cannot be disturbed, but I am sure he will want to speak to you'. The man smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes 'Please join me a cup of coffee. We have it shipped directly from Italy; it's the best Espresso you'll ever taste'.

He clicked his fingers and the barman approached carrying a tray with 3 tiny espresso cups. The white haired gentleman and the barman exchanged a look and then the cups were placed on the table and the jet black espresso shared equally between them.

Steve and Ron eyed each other - this didn't seem like an offer that could be refused. Resignedly they took a cup each.

'Now gentlemen' the white haired man said 'Do either of you know how to play poker?'

In Sol Elzeni's private sanctum Ross Cainen, seated in a plush leather arm chair, took another sip of cognac and savoured the bitter taste as the liquid slid down his throat. He couldn't afford to imbibe too much, as he needed to keep his wits about him. But to refuse altogether, would be to cast aspersions on the Elzeni family and their hospitality – a very dangerous thing to do.

Sol's inner sanctum was grand, but rather old fashioned. A large mirror with an ornate gold frame took up one wall, whilst the other was filled with black and white photos of members of the Elzeni family. The décor was no doubt a throw back to Sol's earlier days when the man was in his prime, at the height of his career. On the photos Sol was in his early forties and looked like a movie star – a shock of sleek, dark hair, a firm jaw line, cold blue eyes and an aquiline nose. The face had filled out over the years, the hair had turned to pure white and the eyes had long since lost their icy blue, but the nose was still the same.

It was well known that Sol spent most of his time these days reminiscing about the past. That was particularly true today. Today, Sol was seated opposite him, a photo album across his knees and tears still fresh in his rheumy old eyes. He was taking the kid's death hard, no doubt about that. So far Cainen had been treated to photo albums filled with snap shots of Nicola Elzeni through childhood and adolescence. But still he knew this was the surest way to get Sol talking, and talk he would, once the cognac had loosened his tongue and the photos pulled at his heart strings.

Just as Cainen was opening his mouth to prompt Sol, there was a knock at the door.'

'Come' Sol instructed.

It was the barman 'I'm sorry to interrupt up Mr Elzeni' he said

'Then why have you Mario?' Sol barked irritably 'We are looking at photos of my beautiful Nicola'.

'Police sir, in the bar, wanting to speak to you'. He paused 'Carlos asked me to serve espresso'.

Cainen was immediately alert. Whoever was in the bar was in trouble, big trouble. As he well knew, being served espresso was a code from Carlos to Sol that someone was digging around in matters that did not concern them and that, that someone needed to be dealt with, permanently.

Tanis must have ignored his instructions and come in after him! His heart was pounding in his head, his mouth dry. How could she have been so stupid and more importantly, how the hell could he save her without blowing his cover? Swallowing another mouthful of the cognac, he tried hard to maintain an air of disinterested nonchalance, whilst simultaneously he wracked his brains for a plan.

'This is an inconvenience indeed' Sol said wearily, closing the album 'It is not so easy to get rid of a cop; we have to make it look like an accident'. He sighed heavily 'Do I not have enough going on right now? I have just lost my only grand daughter and now, now I have to be bothered with the police coming around here and interfering in my business.'

He sighed, shaking his head sadly 'You know Ross, I used to enjoy killing. I used to get such a rush from seeing the fear in a man's eyes when he realised that he was living his final seconds on earth. But now, now I just don't seem to have the heart for it'.

Cainen was almost faint with relief, here was his opening.

'Let me deal with it for you Sol' he said easily 'It's the least I could do in the circumstances'.

Sol flapped his hands 'No, no Ross, just ignore me, it is just the complaining of an old man. I am getting irritable in my old age. It is no big deal. I'll speak to the police officer and whilst I'm talking, my nephew Julio will go cut the brake cable on the police car. There's a big hill on the way back to the police station, runs right into the freeway, lots of traffic.'

Cainen swallowed hard, even if he could somehow warn her about the brake cable, Tanis had not come in her own car. Outside, Julio would find no car but his. How the hell would she explain not having a vehicle? Thinking fast, he leant forward in his chair.

'I'd like to deal with this for you Sol, please' he said. 'Call it a favour from an old friend. You're in mourning for your grand child you shouldn't have to be disturbed by this. I'll go and tell whoever is out there that you've taken ill and I'll get rid of them'.

'Kill them?' Sol asked

Cainen shrugged 'If I have to, but it may not have to come to that. The cops are supposed to be investigating the destruction of my restaurant.' He grinned 'How about I let them think I have some more information on the bombing? That should get them off your back for a while'.

Sol leaned forward and took hold of Cainen's hand in his own and squeezed it warmly

'You're a good boy Ross' he said 'The family won't forget this, nor will we forget that you came to pay your respects, to honour my Nicola'.

Cainen nodded 'We go back a long way Sol. The Elzenis are part of the fabric of the LA underworld, a part of history. A strike against you is a strike against us all'.

As Sol released his hand, Cainen got up and patted the old man's shoulder.

'I'll send Mario to let you know when the coast is clear' he promised.

Sol was already back into his photo albums, lost in memories, but he raised a hand in farewell.

Stepping out into the corridor behind Mario, Cainen let out a breath. They weren't out of the woods yet, but they were headed in the right direction. Of course he'd lost his opportunity to get any info out of Sol, but Tanis' life was more important. He didn't know how it had happened, but over the weeks she'd become kinda special to him.

He wondered what he'd have done if it hadn't been for Tanis. Since they'd been working together, he started seeing things differently. He'd started seeing life differently. She'd brought him back into the real world and for that he was grateful. He'd been travelling down a certain road for so long it had been hard to know where Ross Cainen ended and where he, David Conti, began. David Conti – god it had been years since he'd used that name or even thought about it. Tanis didn't even know his real name was David. Once this investigation ended, may be he'd tell her.

He was angry at her for coming in here, but he owed her so much. Not long ago he would have let an innocent cop die rather than risk blowing his cover; but not now. She'd brought him back from the edge and even he didn't want to admit how close to the edge he'd gotten. He'd been living the life of a monster and that monster had almost swallowed him whole.

He took a deep breath, they were gonna get out of this alive, but it wasn't gonna be easy. He was gonna have to depend on her to play her part. She was gonna have to trust him, play along, pick up on his cues. But then they'd been working together long enough now to pull this off. They knew each other, could follow each other's thoughts. They trusted each other and that trust was what was gonna save them now.

Just before he turned into the bar, he fixed his usual cocky smile on his face. He was Ross Cainen, gangster, killer, chauvinist and showman. He was ready to go into his routine.

As he followed Mario into the bar, the smile dropped, his face froze. It wasn't Tanis sitting at the table with Carlos. The men at the table turned to look at him, and he knew that their shocked expressions mirrored his own. There was a silence and then Steve Sloan spoke

'Ross Cainen' he said slowly 'fancy seeing you here.'

TO BE CONTINUED …….