Page 120 of Secrets of the Brother
Now that it was November, we were preparing for the wild boar hunts.
Papà looked up as I entered.
He set aside his cleaning rod and picked up the brown glass growler ofBirrificio Italiano Tipopilspilsner Uncle Benedict had brought us when he visited for the funeral. Ever the family black sheep, my uncle preferred beer to wine and never missed an opportunity to try and change our tastes as well. Papà poured me a glass and slid it across the workbench.
He picked up his cleaning rod and attached the bore brush. After placing a few drops of solvent on the end, he inserted the brush into the chamber end of the barrel and ran it back and forth. “Everything all settled? I heard there was an issue.”
I picked up my own shotgun and ensured it was unloaded before I began to fieldstrip it. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
He nodded and returned to cleaning his gun.
Cesare glanced up from his own task of oiling the hinge pins and action bars. “Benito ran those checks we asked for on Nevio Zettici.”
I separated the forend from the barrel. “And?”
He reached for one of thetaralliI had brought in. “Nothing.” He crunched down on a bite.
Before I could express my annoyance, he continued, talking around his bite. “Like, strangely nothing.”
I frowned as I picked up a brass cleaning brush. “How so?”
“There’s nothing there. Not so much as a parking ticket. We then checked with theCentral Rischiand the CRIF credit bureau. The guy has no credit or financial history.”
Our father looked up. “Think Nevio could be an alias?”
“He supposedly went to our school so on Monday we’re going to check the school records. That will tell us.”
I applied a small amount of gun oil to a soft, clean cloth and rubbed down the barrel. “What did Benito say about Longo?”
Cesare took a sip of his beer. “Oh, fun fact. He doesn’t think Longo is here in an official capacity. He's definitely not the inspector Benito heard might be coming down.”
Papà scoffed and shook his head. “Fucking little asshole. I knew it.”
Cesare gestured with his beer glass. “That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t become official if he fabricates enough fake evidence.”
I reassembled my shotgun. “I don’t know about you two, but I’ve had enough of standing around holding my dick waiting for something to happen. I think we should start kicking over some rocks.”
Papà clicked his barrel and stock into place. “Agreed. I’ll call your uncle tomorrow. We’ll make arrangements to send the girls up north until the dust settles. They’ll be safe there. No one will get within two hundred kilometers of your uncle’s mountainrifugiowithout him spotting them through a riflescope.”
Cesare and I nodded. We knew the family secret about Uncle Benedict.
The girls would be safe with him.
Alfonso snorted.
We all turned.
He was still sitting by the fire with his eyes closed.
Papà raised an eyebrow. “You disagree?”
“About your crazy as fuck brother? No.”
“Then what is so amusing?”
Alfonso sat up straighter and stretched his arms over his head with a groan. “I was just thinking how it was going to take all three of you and a lot of rope, because you’re going to need to hogtie Gabriella to get her up to the godforsaken wilds of northern Italy when the winter fashion shows are about to begin in Milan.”
The three of us exchanged concerned looks.
