Chapter 4 - RICHARD’S REAL NAME
Richard Bell was not Richard Bell.
That was the first thing Gabriel discovered.
Official employment records began only twelve years earlier.
Before that:
Nothing.
No tax history.
No old address.
No college.
No childhood.
A man appearing at forty with a perfect résumé.
Gabriel confronted him after Ilvento closed.
Not violently.
Tessa insisted on being present.
Richard stood in the empty dining room where, less than twenty-four hours earlier, he had begged Tessa to serve Salvatore.
Gabriel placed the old photograph on the table.
“You recognize Saint Lucia?”
Richard went pale.
“That was before my time.”
“Wrong.”
Gabriel dropped a second document.
Fingerprint match through an old liquor-license record.
Real name:
Riccardo Bellini.
Son of Enzo Bellini.
Former accountant for Matteo Rossi.
Richard sat.
His legs seemed to stop working.
Tessa whispered:
“You knew Cosenza.”
Richard looked at her.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He saved my life.”
Silence.
Not expected.
Richard explained.
His father Enzo handled Matteo’s shell accounts.
When Elena discovered the theft, Enzo helped Matteo bury it.
But later Enzo wanted out.
Matteo threatened him.
Cosenza helped young Riccardo disappear.
Changed name.
Moved him away.
Years later, after Matteo died, Riccardo returned.
Why work for Gabriel?
“To watch.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.
“For who?”
“Cosenza.”
Tessa stared.
Richard had been Cosenza’s eyes inside Ilvento.
For twelve years.
Reporting Gabriel’s habits.
Salvatore’s health.
Family dynamics.
Not to attack.
To decide whether the old truth could safely return.
Gabriel looked betrayed anyway.
“You watched me eat for twelve years.”
Richard laughed sadly.
“Mostly you drank coffee.”
Then Tessa asked:
“Why assign me to Gabriel?”
Richard’s face changed.
That was the question.
He had recognized her surname?
No.
Her face?
Maybe.
“You spoke to Cosenza at his funeral.”
Tessa froze.
Richard had attended?
She remembered a man in a dark coat standing across the cemetery.
Never approached.
“I knew he cared about you.”
Richard continued.
“When you applied here, I thought it was coincidence.”
Then he learned Tessa spoke Sicilian.
How?
One night, she cursed in dialect after dropping a tray.
Richard heard.
He realized Cosenza had taught her.
So he began assigning her to Gabriel.
“Why?”
“To see if Gabriel noticed you.”
Tessa’s eyes hardened.
“I’m not an experiment.”
“No.”
Richard looked ashamed.
“But Cosenza believed people reveal themselves around those they consider powerless.”
That explained everything.
Gabriel never shouted at Tessa.
Never touched her.
Tipped well.
Watched.
Richard reported that.
Then Salvatore’s visit happened unexpectedly.
Richard panicked because he knew if Tessa spoke—
past would reopen.
“Why didn’t you stop her from serving?”
“I tried.”
He almost laughed.
“You negotiated two paid days off.”
True.
Then Gabriel asked:
“Who helped Matteo?”
Richard looked toward him.
“I don’t know.”
“Cosenza did.”
“He suspected.”
“Who?”
Richard looked at Tessa.
Then:
“Someone who still attends Ilvento.”
Tessa’s stomach dropped.
“Who?”
Richard whispered:
“Every Friday.”
Same night Salvatore appeared.
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.
Richard pointed toward booth seven.
Empty now.
“Judge Anthony Vescari.”
Federal judge.
Family friend.
May you like
One of Gabriel’s father’s oldest allies.
And the man who had eaten dinner thirty feet away while Salvatore listened to Tessa speak the dialect of his childhood.
