Chapter 8: The Thursday Room

I did not finish the coffee.

I stood up from Ignazio's table, and I said, "I need to speak to my husband."

"Of course, cara." He did not stand. "He's at the club until noon. The captains meet on Thursdays. My driver will take you."

"I'll find my own way."

I walked out onto Arthur Kill Road with my bandaged hand shaking.

Remo's Escalade was idling at the corner.

He had not gone home.

I opened the back door and said, "The social club."

"Mrs. Falzone, the captains' room is..."

"Is closed to women. I know. Drive."

He drove.

The Falzone social club is a brick building on Richmond Avenue with a striped awning and no sign.

I had walked past it in the car for three years and never gone in.

Two men on the step straightened up when I came up the walk.

"Mrs. Falzone, you can't..."

"Is my husband inside?"

"Yes, but..."

"Then I'm not asking you."

I pulled the door open myself.

It smelled like cigar smoke and espresso and floor wax.

I went down the hall past a pool table and the coat rack, toward the back door where I could hear men talking.

Remo came in behind me.

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