light, and chuckled.
She took a sip of tea after she had laced it with cream and two spoons of raw sugar. “I’ll make you a deal,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“You send me all the gruesome details on the Maglios, and I’ll send you what I have on Lopez.”
“ And any results on the fraud investigation of Joe’s firm,” Rosa quickly added.
“The attorney general’s office is handling that.”
“I know. But I’m sure that since it’s a Philadelphia firm, you’re going to get copies of any and all reports—right? I’m sure you havean interest in the outcome. The firm did make major contributions to your campaign. Didn’t it?”
He had her and he knew it. He knew her well. Muriel Gates was not about to be outranked, outclassed, or outmaneuvered by any AG, white-collar-crime specialist. The crimes, if any, had been committed in her county upon the residents of her county, and she wanted to know everything pertaining to the investigation. She needed to monitor this investigation closely. After all, Maglio, Silvio and Levin’s help had been instrumental in her winning the election.
He could hear the concession in her voice as she said, “I’ll send you what I have, but I don’t know why you’re interested in this firm, or what happens to it or the Lopez case.”
“Why are you interested in Joe Maglio’s death?” he shot back.
She took a bite of the buttery croissant, letting crumbs fall on her desk. “Because,” she said between chews, “it’s an interesting case; murder, suicide, fraud, unethical dealing. It fascinates me.” She swallowed. “I hear the bank is foreclosing on the estate. Everything to be sold.”
“Yes. It’s a beautiful place. And the horses are going, too. You interested?” He saw lights blinking on his phone and knew there were other urgencies like judges, cops, victims, their relatives, the press—he wished all of it would stop.
“Don’t like horses, or grass,” she quipped.
There was a knock on his door as he was saying good-bye. It was a relief to hang up the phone. What a ball buster , he thought. She’s perfect for the job .
“Yeah,” he called out, looking longingly at a pack of Marlboros sitting on the other side of his desk. He had stopped smoking three times in the two weeks since Joe Maglio’s death, and had started three. Rosa got up and walked around the mission style table that he used as a desk, and reached for the pack again. His secretary opened the door and peeked in.
“Someone is here to see you, Mr. Rosa.” She frowned at the red and white box in his hand.
“Does he have an appointment?”
“No sir, but he said you would want to see him.”
“Who is it?”
It’s Nicholas Ceratto, Mr. Maglio’s associate. He said he’s not leaving until he talks to you. I tried…”
“It’s OK…OK.” Rosa paused for a second. “I’ll see him—but I need some coffee. Bring a whole damn pot—French roast. It’s ten thirty and I haven’t had a cup of coffee yet.” He defiantly pulled a cigarette out of the pack and put it in his mouth. He was tired of women pushing him around, even if it was for his own good. As soon as she closed the door, he removed it and threw it into the waste can.
Wearing a black Versace suit and an unbuttoned antelope top coat, Nick Ceratto walked confidently into Mike Rosa’s office. He was followed by Rosa’s secretary, who was apparently attracted to him. Although she knew she could be his older sister, her cheeks flushed as she placed the glass squash pot on the coffee table for her boss.
Rosa nodded his thanks as she put two cups and two spoons on the table before leaving the room. He motioned to Nick to take a seat and gestured toward the coffee.
Nick held up a hand as he sat down. “No thanks, I don’t touch the stuff. It’s bad for me. It gives me the shakes.”
Rosa took a long, careful swallow and sat slowly in his favorite, worn leather wing chair. “What can I do for you today,
She took a sip of tea after she had laced it with cream and two spoons of raw sugar. “I’ll make you a deal,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“You send me all the gruesome details on the Maglios, and I’ll send you what I have on Lopez.”
“ And any results on the fraud investigation of Joe’s firm,” Rosa quickly added.
“The attorney general’s office is handling that.”
“I know. But I’m sure that since it’s a Philadelphia firm, you’re going to get copies of any and all reports—right? I’m sure you havean interest in the outcome. The firm did make major contributions to your campaign. Didn’t it?”
He had her and he knew it. He knew her well. Muriel Gates was not about to be outranked, outclassed, or outmaneuvered by any AG, white-collar-crime specialist. The crimes, if any, had been committed in her county upon the residents of her county, and she wanted to know everything pertaining to the investigation. She needed to monitor this investigation closely. After all, Maglio, Silvio and Levin’s help had been instrumental in her winning the election.
He could hear the concession in her voice as she said, “I’ll send you what I have, but I don’t know why you’re interested in this firm, or what happens to it or the Lopez case.”
“Why are you interested in Joe Maglio’s death?” he shot back.
She took a bite of the buttery croissant, letting crumbs fall on her desk. “Because,” she said between chews, “it’s an interesting case; murder, suicide, fraud, unethical dealing. It fascinates me.” She swallowed. “I hear the bank is foreclosing on the estate. Everything to be sold.”
“Yes. It’s a beautiful place. And the horses are going, too. You interested?” He saw lights blinking on his phone and knew there were other urgencies like judges, cops, victims, their relatives, the press—he wished all of it would stop.
“Don’t like horses, or grass,” she quipped.
There was a knock on his door as he was saying good-bye. It was a relief to hang up the phone. What a ball buster , he thought. She’s perfect for the job .
“Yeah,” he called out, looking longingly at a pack of Marlboros sitting on the other side of his desk. He had stopped smoking three times in the two weeks since Joe Maglio’s death, and had started three. Rosa got up and walked around the mission style table that he used as a desk, and reached for the pack again. His secretary opened the door and peeked in.
“Someone is here to see you, Mr. Rosa.” She frowned at the red and white box in his hand.
“Does he have an appointment?”
“No sir, but he said you would want to see him.”
“Who is it?”
It’s Nicholas Ceratto, Mr. Maglio’s associate. He said he’s not leaving until he talks to you. I tried…”
“It’s OK…OK.” Rosa paused for a second. “I’ll see him—but I need some coffee. Bring a whole damn pot—French roast. It’s ten thirty and I haven’t had a cup of coffee yet.” He defiantly pulled a cigarette out of the pack and put it in his mouth. He was tired of women pushing him around, even if it was for his own good. As soon as she closed the door, he removed it and threw it into the waste can.
Wearing a black Versace suit and an unbuttoned antelope top coat, Nick Ceratto walked confidently into Mike Rosa’s office. He was followed by Rosa’s secretary, who was apparently attracted to him. Although she knew she could be his older sister, her cheeks flushed as she placed the glass squash pot on the coffee table for her boss.
Rosa nodded his thanks as she put two cups and two spoons on the table before leaving the room. He motioned to Nick to take a seat and gestured toward the coffee.
Nick held up a hand as he sat down. “No thanks, I don’t touch the stuff. It’s bad for me. It gives me the shakes.”
Rosa took a long, careful swallow and sat slowly in his favorite, worn leather wing chair. “What can I do for you today,
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