Chapter 12 - The Woman Who Knew Everything
Aurora Municipal Airport was nearly empty when Vincent’s cars arrived.
Detective Donovan had already contacted state police.
Vincent hated waiting for lawful procedure.
Elena reminded him that lawful procedure was the reason everyone would still be alive tomorrow.
He did not enjoy being corrected.
He enjoyed even less that she was usually right.
Salvatore’s plane remained on the runway.
Its engines were running.
Police vehicles blocked the exit.
Vincent watched from behind the terminal glass.
A limousine approached the aircraft.
Two men exited.
Then Salvatore Bellini.
Then an elderly woman.
Elena gasped.
She had seen photographs.
Daniel kept one beside their bed during the first year of their marriage.
“That’s her.”
Vincent looked toward Donovan.
“Move.”
Donovan’s officers surrounded the plane.
Salvatore stopped.
For the first time, Vincent saw genuine panic on his oldest enemy’s face.
Then Salvatore smiled.
He raised his hands.
The elderly woman collapsed.
Elena ran before anyone could stop her.
Vincent followed.
The woman was conscious.
Frail.
Terrified.
She stared at Elena.
Then whispered, “You’re Daniel’s wife.”
Elena knelt beside her.
“Yes.”
The woman touched her face.
“I’m Isabel.”
Elena began crying.
“I know.”
Isabel Martinez had not died in 1979.
Her death certificate had been fabricated.
Luis Martinez, Daniel’s father, had hidden her after Salvatore began searching for him.
When Luis died, Salvatore found Isabel.
For eight years she lived under supervision.
Not exactly imprisoned.
Not free.
“They told Daniel I was dead.”
Isabel said later in the hospital.
“They told me Daniel was safe if I stayed quiet.”
Elena held her hand.
“Did you see him?”
“Once.”
“When?”
“1986.”
Elena closed her eyes.
Again.
That terrible year.
“Was he alive?”
“Yes.”
“Did you speak?”
“For five minutes.”
Elena’s voice broke.
“What did he say?”
“He asked about you.”
“And Sophie.”
Isabel smiled sadly.
“He showed me a photograph of her.”
Elena cried.
Vincent stood at the back of the room.
Tony beside him.
Sophie sat outside with a nurse.
Isabel looked toward Vincent.
“Torino.”
“Yes.”
“You look like your father.”
“I hope not.”
A faint smile.
“Your father would say the same.”
Vincent approached.
“You knew Maria?”
Isabel nodded.
“My husband drove her.”
“Luis.”
“He tried to save her.”
“I know.”
Isabel looked surprised.
“Then Daniel succeeded.”
Vincent’s chest tightened.
“He spent his life trying to clear his father.”
“And yours.”
Vincent frowned.
“Mine?”
“Luis knew Salvatore wanted you blamed by history.”
“For what?”
“For everything Salvatore planned to build.”
Isabel breathed slowly.
“Maria’s death was only the beginning.”
She explained.
Salvatore did not want Vincent dead.
A dead Vincent would create a power vacuum.
Salvatore wanted Vincent angry.
Violent.
Isolated.
Dependent on the few men he believed remained loyal.
Salvatore became one of those men.
He helped Vincent expand.
Helped him crush rivals.
Helped him build political influence.
All while quietly collecting evidence and money.
Vincent had become Salvatore’s shield.
His weapon.
And eventually, his scapegoat.
“If the government ever came,” Isabel whispered, “Salvatore planned to give them you.”
Vincent almost admired the patience.
Almost.
Tony asked, “What about Nico?”
Isabel looked toward him.
“You are Anthony Russo.”
“Yes.”
“You raised Maria’s boy.”
Tony’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“Maria chose you.”
Tony froze.
Vincent stepped closer.
“What?”
Isabel nodded.
“The nurse Evelyn told Maria she needed someone trustworthy to take the child.”
“Maria named Tony.”
Vincent looked at his friend.
Tony covered his mouth.
For years, he had believed the adoption random.
It was not.
Maria had chosen the man she trusted to raise her son.
Tony began to cry.
Vincent put a hand on his shoulder.
Neither cared who saw.
Isabel continued.
“Salvatore discovered the plan.”
“He allowed the adoption because he realized it gave him leverage.”
Elena’s face hardened.
“He turned a baby into a weapon.”
“Yes.”
Isabel closed her eyes.
“That is what Salvatore does.”
Later that afternoon, Donovan entered.
“Bellini made bail.”
Vincent stared.
“On what planet?”
“A judge signed an emergency release.”
Vincent laughed without humor.
“One from the ledger?”
“Yes.”
“Judge Warren Cole.”
Tony cursed.
Vincent looked toward the window.
Salvatore still controlled pieces of the city.
Even exposed, his network moved.
Donovan continued.
“We’re working on federal charges.”
“How long?”
“Days.”
“We don’t have days.”
“No.”
She looked at Elena.
“Bellini asked to speak with you.”
Vincent immediately said, “No.”
Elena said, “Yes.”
They glared at each other.
Donovan almost smiled.
Elena turned to Vincent.
“He knows something.”
“He wants leverage.”
“Then let him think he has it.”
“No.”
“Vincent.”
“No.”
“You don’t own me.”
“I am aware.”
“You keep forgetting.”
“I remember every time you say it.”
“Then act like it.”
Tony quietly left the room.
Donovan followed.
Vincent stared at Elena.
“He killed your husband.”
“Yes.”
“He kidnapped Isabel.”
“Yes.”
“He ordered your attack.”
“Yes.”
“And you want to sit across from him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Daniel spent years trying to finish this.”
Her eyes filled.
“I get to finish it.”
Vincent’s anger weakened.
Elena stepped closer.
“You cannot protect me by deciding my life for me.”
“I can try.”
“And that is your problem.”
He looked down.
She touched his hand.
“Stand beside me.”
Her voice softened.
“Not in front of me.”
Vincent looked into her eyes.
No one had asked him that before.
Everyone wanted him in front.
As shield.
As weapon.
As threat.
Elena asked him to stand beside her.
“All right.”
The meeting took place in an interview room at police headquarters.
A camera recorded everything.
Bellini entered smiling.
“Mrs. Martinez.”
Elena looked at him.
“You killed Daniel.”
Salvatore sat.
“Daniel made dangerous choices.”
“That isn’t a denial.”
“No.”
Vincent watched through one-way glass.
His fists clenched.
Donovan stood beside him.
“Control yourself.”
“I am.”
“You look like you’re imagining murder.”
“I said I am controlling myself.”
Inside, Elena continued.
“Why did Daniel care about Maria Torino?”
Salvatore smiled.
“Because his father poisoned him with guilt.”
“Luis told the truth.”
“Truth is simply the story with enough evidence behind it.”
Elena leaned forward.
“Daniel found evidence.”
“Yes.”
“You hunted him.”
“Yes.”
“You kept him from me.”
Salvatore’s smile faded.
“He could have come home.”
“He chose not to.”
“Because you threatened Sophie.”
Salvatore said nothing.
Elena’s eyes hardened.
“You’re a coward.”
Vincent almost smiled.
Bellini leaned closer.
“Careful.”
“No.”
Elena shook her head.
“You spent thirty years hiding behind Vincent Torino’s reputation.”
“You made him look like the monster while you stayed clean.”
Salvatore’s jaw tightened.
“You used Carlo.”
“You used Luca.”
“You used Nico.”
“And you murdered anyone who discovered the pattern.”
Bellini stared at her.
Then whispered, “Daniel sounded exactly like you.”
Elena went still.
Vincent stepped toward the glass.
Donovan raised one hand.
Bellini continued.
“He was brave too.”
“Until the end.”
Elena’s eyes filled but remained steady.
“What did he say at the end?”
Bellini smiled.
Vincent wanted to break the glass.
“He said you would find the flowers.”
Elena stopped breathing.
“What flowers?”
Salvatore leaned back.
“You haven’t found them?”
For the first time, confusion entered Elena’s face.
Bellini’s smile grew.
“Then Daniel’s greatest secret is still safe.”
“What secret?”
Salvatore stood.
“My lawyer says we’re done.”
Elena stood too.
“What flowers?”
Bellini reached the door.
Then turned.
“Ask your daughter.”
Elena froze.
Vincent entered the room before Donovan could stop him.
Salvatore smiled.
“There he is.”
Vincent ignored him.
He looked at Elena.
“Sophie.”
They ran.
At the hospital, Sophie sat beside Isabel holding a bouquet.
White lilies.
A delivery had arrived ten minutes earlier.
No sender.
Elena tore through the flowers.
Inside one stem was a rolled strip of paper.
Daniel’s handwriting.
Elena opened it.
IF SOPHIE EVER RECEIVES THESE, BELLINI KNOWS TOO MUCH.
TAKE HER TO MARIA’S GRAVE.
THE LAST KEY IS BURIED WHERE ROSEMARY GROWS.
Vincent stared.
Maria’s grave.
May you like
Someone had been using the cemetery as a hiding place for nearly thirty years.
And Salvatore had just told them he knew.
