Chapter 13: The Safe

We went straight from the hospital to Federal Hill.

Bianca drove, because Remo's arm was in a sling and my hands still smelled of anisette.

The house was empty.

My aunt had taken the staff to the hospital, and the garden still had Sunday's paper cups in the hedge.

I took the cane down the cellar stairs with the silver head screwed back on.

"Where does a flat key like this go?" Bianca asked.

"A safe," Remo said. "Gaetano has one in the study. I've seen it."

"He wouldn't hide it in a cane for a safe in the study," I said.

Remo stopped on the bottom step.

He looked at the projection room door, then at me.

"The booth wall," he said slowly. "Behind the screen. He's had it painted twice."

"You ran that room for nineteen years."

"I never went behind the screen. He told me the wall was damp."

I did not say what I thought of that.

We went in and I turned on the work lights, and the red seats looked tired and small.

Behind the screen, the plaster was cold and bare.

Bianca ran her red nails along a seam, and the wall made a hollow sound.

"Here," she said.

It was a square of plaster painted to match, with a brass ring set flush at the bottom.

Remo hooked his fingers in the ring with his good hand and pulled.

A steel door the size of a bread box swung out of the wall.

The lock had a stamped number on it, the same number as on my key.

I turned the key and it went in.

"Open it," Bianca whispered.

I opened it.

The first thing I saw was a ledger.

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