This story is now over 240,000 words. I'm hoping to wrap it up by 250 K. Meanwhile.
Chapter 159.
It was possible that Molino's beef with the Locarnos was due to Tony's efforts and those of his friends to keep Molino's operation in New Jersey to a minimum, but I didn't think so. Still, before I left Locarno's office, I told them, "I understand that the fruit company trucks will be used for a special delivery Saturday."
Again they looked at each other. "We hadn't heard that. Thank you for the information, Doctor." Molino stood behind his mahogany desk, indicating that I should go.
He walked me out without another word. I hadn't learned much from him, certainly not the kinds of things I'd hoped for.
I drove back to hospital slowly, deep in thought about what other options I had. Those flickers of interest I saw when I spoke to Locarno told me he knew a lot more than he was revealing. But there was nothing I could do to make him talk.
I'd failed, at least for now. Perhaps I should turn my attention to other things until I had another flash of inspiration.
Cuddy was lying in wait outside my office. Luckily I spotted her and was able to avoid her again. Whatever she wanted from Marcello, I wasn't going to be the one to approach him for her.
Where could I go to hide from her? There weren't many places in the hospital to escape, but I hadn't been to the roof in a long time.
Unfortunately, someone else was already there. What would Jess' father be doing up on the hospital roof? I stood behind the air conditioner vent and waited. Before long, someone joined him.
The man looked familiar, but I didn't place him at first. He and Giordano spoke softly and only one word in three reached me, but they seemed to be talking about a delivery of some kind. Did it have something to do with the one I knew would use the Bernini trucks?
I snapped my fingers, then hoped they hadn't heard me, but neither of them looked my way. The man was Giancarlo Bernini, so it was likely something to do with the Saturday job Petey told me about. Why were they discussing it here?
I thought back to Giordano's bid to sit on the board. Instead, Marcello took that seat, so he had no connection to the hospital. Had Molino put him up to it in the first place? What would they want with the hospital except the cache of respectability?
The two men spoke for about ten minutes. Giordano left first. Bernini soon followed. I could pursue one or the other, but what for? For no tangible reason, I followed Jess' father. I hadn't heard back yet from Bev about the meeting. Still, I had a feeling something was imminent, something I wouldn't like.
He got into his car but didn't drive off immediately. That gave me time to get mine so I could follow him at a discrete distance when he did. I thought about my first meeting with him in Dorsey. He'd been such a big fish in that little pond, but now he was playing with the big boys. Of course, he had Molino's help.
I pursued him toward downtown and was surprised when he parked not far from the building I'd visited earlier, the one housing Locarno's office. He appeared to be heading that way. I sat in my car, tapping a finger on my steering wheel, until he entered the building. Then I strode to the entrance. Watching through the glass doors, I saw him get on the elevator. Once he had, I entered the marble-floored lobby. The elevator stopped at Locarno's floor. Now what was Papa Giordano up to? There was only one way to find out.
I pressed the button for the elevator. Both were on high floors, but eventually one descended to the lobby. I entered and took it up to Locarno's office.
My pal, the receptionist, looked surprised to see me again. "Something I forgot to tell Mr. Locarno," I told her.
"Have a seat. He's with a...client."
I took the same chair I'd spent time in earlier. The magazines hadn't changed, so I stared at the receptionist until she got up and brought me some more coffee. Thre was still nothing with it.
When Locarno emerged half an hour later, Giordano wasn't with him. I wondered where he'd stashed him. "Dr. House, twice in one day?" The annoyance in his voice was nothing new to me.
I was annoyed myself. "Where's your visitor?"
His body jerked. "How did you know..."
"Your receptionist told me."
Locarno relaxed. "Yes, well, my 'visitor' as you called him, is with an associate. I thought you and I were finished with our discussion."
I looked around the reception area. No one else there, but it was quite open. "Maybe we'd better do this in your office."
"I can assure you, Doctor, that anything you say here would require privacy." The steel in his voice matched that in his spine.
"Mr. Locarno, I'm only trying to help your family. If you don't want my help..." I shrugged and turned to go.
"Wait. Alright, follow me." He led me back to the corner office. The other doors along the hallway were closed, so there was no indication where Giordano might be, if he was actually still there. "What did you want to tell me that would keep my family safer than they are now?"
When he put it that way, I wasn't sure. Still, I had to try. "Did Giordano tell you about his meeting with Bernini? Or about the plan to use Bernini's trucks tomorrow?"
He studied me through narrowed eyes. Was he debating with himself about what he could or should tell me? Finally he sighed, as if he'd come to a conclusion. "What do you know about the fruit company?"
Maybe if I told him all I knew, he'd level with me. "It ostensibly belongs to Bernini, but very likely belongs to Molino. They deliver fruit to restaurants and other establishments in town." I stopped to let that sink in. "For a while, Mike Morgan was one of the drivers until I confronted him at the Black Keys. Soon after he rammed his truck through the plate glass windows of the place."
Locarnos eyes showed his increased interest, but the rest of his face was impassive.
Smiling, I went on. "The truck was repaired at Molino's place out on Old Trenton Road. Petey Giordano picked it up earlier today." Laughing inside at his reaction to every word I said, I still kept some of what I knew to myself. "He's the one who informed me that the drivers were told there'd be a special shipment for them to pickup and deliver tomorrow, but Petey didn't know yet what it was, or even the locations."
He nodded slightly.
"I also saw your pal Giordano meeting with Giancarlo Bernini, the same man who attacked your grandson a couple of weeks ago. Why they picked the hospital roof, I don't know. Perhaps he told you."
That got a stronger reaction. "Giordano is no friend of mine. I'm sure I told you that before. He was here to ask for my cooperation to allow him to open his restaurant."
"You know Beverly Windermaker is working there. Bertoli's daughter," I added although I was certain he knew that.
"Yes." His smile had a bitter edge to it. "You are full of information, aren't you, Doctor?"
"Like you, I know people and I get around." I'd processed what he said about Giordano by then. "What did you tell Giordano?"
"That I don't do business with Molino or his associates." He guffawed. "He tried to convince me he had no ties to Carlo. When I didn't buy it, he left."
"I didn't see him." I tapped my cane twice.
"There's another entrance to the offices. I let him out that way. It prevented him from learning any more about my company than he already knew."
"So he was fishing for information."
"I expect so. Just as you are."
"Except I have you and your family's interests at heart."
He smirked. "My son and grandson have good things to say about you and your girlfriend. Tell me, her relationship with her father..."
"Is nonexistent," I finished for him. "Rather, it's strained. It's been hard for her to accept the fact that he's tied to Molino and the things he does. Like kidnapping her and her sister. But she had difficulties with him before that."
"And this Petey Giordano, he's the son, no?"
"Yes. Petey has had an even worse relationship with his father than Jess and Nina. He's given up on trying to get Papa Giordano to approve of him. Like his sisters, though, he's unhappy to learn what his father's been up to."
Locarno picked up a pen and started twisting it in his fingers. He dropped the pen and said, "I don't know what Giordano or Molino are up to now, but it can't be anything positive. What do you suggest we do?"
"With Bev positioned at Giordano's new restaurant and Petey driving for Bernini, I think we should wait and see what they can find out before you or I make a move. You and Bertoli have resources we can use, right?" I stared at him until he spoke again.
"Yes, I suppose you might say that."
"Then you should do whatever you think would keep your families safe and at the same time thwart any plans Molino has for this city and all of New Jersey." One thing was clear to me and I hoped he realized it, too. "He's no longer content to have a few small businesses here. Unlike Giordano, he knows how to play with the big boys."
Locarno nodded. "I believe we see the same picture, Doctor." He stood. "Thank you for coming back and telling me what you know."
Although I'm not one to desire the touch of other people, I stood as well and took his outstretched hand. There was a strength in it, consistent with the man himself.
He walked me through the corridor to the reception area. "If I learn anything else, I'll be sure to let you know."
"Same here." I took the elevator down and strolled to my car. Did we have a fair exchange of information? Maybe not quite, but I got the feeling he finally trusted me, and that was a big step.
When I returned to the hospital, I decided to try a new avenue. I went directly to Cuddy's office and pushed through the door without knocking. "So what are you so fired up about me telling Marcello Locarno?"
She stared at me for a minute as if she couldn't believe I was standing there, willing to do what she asked. "There's a board vote in a few days. Several people, including one of the doctors, want to cut back on the amount we're spending on the medical school classes. And the way they propose to do that, is to hire less experienced lecturers and demand that all of our doctors teach." She crossed her arms, daring me to say they were right.
But how could I, when I, for one, would hate to have to teach.