Chapter 10: He Was Never Dying

On Friday at nine, twelve men sat down at the long table in the Amadori dining room.

None of them had been told why.

I sat at the foot beside the old uncle with the cane.

Luca's mother stood against the wall in black.

The cousin with the ring took the chair at the right hand of the empty head seat, and his eyes were bright.

He had heard the heir was settling his affairs.

He thought it was a funeral.

The door opened and Luca came in on a manservant's arm.

He wore a dark suit that hung loose, and he had put a grey dust on his face.

He took three steps and stopped to cough.

I watched the cousin lean back in his chair and smile.

It was a long, ragged, hollow cough, and Luca finished it with a hand on the table and a pale, apologetic nod.

"Gentlemen," he said weakly. "Thank you for coming."

The manservant helped him into the chair.

"I won't keep you," Luca said. "The doctors say I have little time.

"I'd like to name who will run the freight company, the docks and my mother's house when I'm gone."

The cousin spoke before anyone else could.

"I'll gladly carry the weight," he said. "For the family. For your mother."

"That's generous."

"It's my duty."

"And who would help you carry it?" Luca asked gently.

"Friends," the cousin said. "I have friends in New York who understand freight."

There was a short, ugly silence.

I did not move.

Luca coughed again, and the cousin's smile widened.

"Friends in New York," Luca repeated. "Tessari friends."

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