Chapter 8: Doctor's Orders

Rocco's men caught the thief on the garden wall before I had finished picking up my clothes.

He was one of Salerno's, and he had my green notebook inside his jacket.

Rocco carried it upstairs himself and put it into my hands.

"Every page is there," he said. "He hadn't opened it. He was told to bring it out and not read it."

"By who?"

"He'll tell us by morning." Rocco's face was cold. "He's downstairs."

I turned the pages with my thumb, one after another, to be sure.

They were all there, in my small slanting handwriting, with the coffee ring on the cover.

I put it in the steel case, spun the lock and slid the case under the bed.

Concetta put a hot cup of tea into my hands and sent everyone to bed.

I did not go to mine.

I went down the long hall to the room at the end with a clipboard and a fresh set of gloves, and I knocked.

"Come in."

Alessio stood by the window in his shirtsleeves, with his tie off and his collar open.

The city glittered behind the glass.

"I need to check your pressure," I said.

"At midnight."

"Your nose bled three days ago and a man just came through my window. I'd like to know your numbers."

He crossed the room slowly and held out his arm.

I wrapped the cuff, pumped it up and watched the needle fall.

Neither of us said anything.

My fingers lay on the inside of his wrist, and his pulse was fast and heavy.

"You're a terrible liar, Dr. Finley," he said.

"I haven't lied."

"You haven't said a true thing in the last two minutes either."

Keep reading free with an account. Start They Called Me a Fraud, So I Walked Into the Don's House from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.