Chapter 20: Five of Nine

Valerio's POV

The table met in the dock capo's dining room on Thursday night.

It was a small room with a long table, and nine of us sat at it with the old man at the head in his chair.

The black ledger lay in front of him with the tank hissing at its side.

The consigliere's stand was empty.

Aurelio sat at the foot as a guest, in a good suit, with his ring on the table where everyone could see it.

I had not seen him look so calm since the banquet.

That worried me more than anger would have.

"The charge is a forged line," the old man said. "The punishment is the head's chair. We vote. Aurelio doesn't."

"Before you vote," Aurelio said.

"You'll have your say in the end."

"I'll have it now."

He didn't stand.

"Valerio Carraro's page has a line that I called in the hall at my banquet, in front of his crew. It was never answered."

I felt every man at the table look at me.

"Under the rule, a capo whose line is called can't speak or vote at this table until it's paid."

"I call it again, here. Carraro, you owe."

"You can't do that," said the dock capo.

"It's in the book," Aurelio said gently. "Open it and look."

The old man didn't need to look.

He had known the rule for sixty years, and his face told me it was real.

"Eight votes, then," he said, heavily.

The voting went around the table.

The old man was for removal, and the dock capo, and two others.

Aurelio's four went the other way.

Four to four.

"A tie keeps the head," Aurelio said. He smiled at the old man with real warmth. "Zio. I'm sorry. It's an old rule."

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