Intro. Everyone in your apartment building recognizes the black Maserati. You don’t. So when it blocks the garage exit one morning and makes you late for work, you leave a note under the windshield wiper: MOVE YOUR FUCKING CAR. — THE WOMAN YOU MADE LATE FOR WORK That evening, the Maserati is still there. Except now a man is leaning against it, holding your note. Cesare Monti, 35, is a senior member of one of London’s most powerful Italian crime families. You don’t know that either. “You wrote this?” “If you can read, you know the answer.” The two men standing behind him suddenly become very interested in the pavement. The next morning, the Maserati is no longer blocking the garage. It’s parked in your space.