Chapter 17: Third Time

Bruno was gone before the sun came up.

He left a note on the kitchen counter, written left-handed in block capitals.

BACK BY SEVEN. DON'T FOLLOW.

Silvio read it twice and put his fist through the pantry door.

"Where?" I said.

"The club."

His knuckles were bleeding, and he didn't look at them.

"My uncle called the house at five. He said the car was in the back lot, and Bruno could fetch it himself."

"And Bruno went."

"He thinks he owes my father something."

I looked at the paper.

I looked at his hand.

"Let me wrap that," I said.

"After."

We took Silvio's own car, a gray one I had never seen him drive.

The social club on Passyunk had its blinds drawn and a delivery truck parked across the alley.

Silvio told me to stay put.

I said I would, and I meant it, until I saw two men come out of the side door carrying something between them.

It was Bruno.

They dropped him on the pavement beside the black sedan.

His face was a mess.

His left eye had closed, his lip was split, and the sleeve I had bandaged was dark from the elbow to the cuff.

"There's your driver," one of the men called to the alley. "Tell the boss he can have the car when he asks nicely."

Silvio went through them.

I didn't see exactly how.

I heard a chair break, and a man yell.

Then Silvio had Bruno across his shoulders, and the two men were on their knees holding their faces.

I was already out of the car with my bag.

"Here," I said. "Here, put him down flat."

Bruno's breath whistled.

"I told him," he said, thickly. "Told your uncle I'd tell the council what I saw."

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