Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN WHO HAD BEEN BURIED ALIVE ON PAPER
Norah dropped into chair.
“Mom?”
The voice on phone came again.
“Baby…”
Norah cried.
Dominic watched her face carefully.
Something was wrong.
Not with emotion.
With word.
Carmine said:
“Pier Nineteen. Midnight. Bring what Adrian hid.”
Dominic checked time.
11:41.
Nineteen minutes.
Impossible by design.
Norah whispered:
“Let me talk to her.”
“You heard enough.”
“Carmine—”
“Midnight.”
Line went dead.
Norah screamed and threw phone at wall.
Dominic caught before impact.
“Stop.”
“You stop!”
She shoved him.
“You knew this man your whole life!”
“So did my mother.”
“Don't.”
She was shaking.
“My mother died in hospice. I signed cremation authorization.”
“Did you identify body?”
Norah froze.
Dominic understood.
“No.”
“I saw her before transfer.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“And after?”
“They told me she deteriorated during transport.”
“Who told?”
“Hospice coordinator.”
“Name?”
“Rebecca Lane.”
Dominic looked at attorney.
“Find.”
Norah sank.
“My mother never called me baby.”
Dominic turned.
“What?”
“She called me Birdie.”
Always.
“Even when angry?”
“Yes.”
“If forced?”
Norah wiped tears.
“She told me when I was little that if anyone ever made her say something against her will, she'd call me baby so I'd know not to believe what came after.”
Dominic’s eyes sharpened.
Elena had signaled.
Pier 19 was lie.
Maybe Carmine wanted ambush elsewhere.
“What sounds did you hear behind her?”
Norah closed eyes.
“A low vibration.”
“Traffic?”
“No.”
“Train?”
Her eyes opened.
“Yes.”
Then she remembered.
“And a bell. Twice.”
Dominic knew properties Carmine had access.
Old Bell Auto warehouse in Long Island City near freight lines and church whose clock bells still rang quarter hour.
Carmine’s father's garage.
He hadn't thought of it in years.
Dominic gave location to investigators.
His attorney stared at him.
“You’re trusting them?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“I’m forcing everyone to look same place.”
Important.
No secret rescue.
No private army.
Carmine’s advantage was isolated information.
Dominic broke it by distributing truth.
Authorities searched warehouse.
Dominic was told stay away.
He hated.
Norah too.
They waited in secure room with Teresa and Isabella.
Twenty-eight minutes.
Forty.
One hour.
Then call.
Elena alive.
Carmine gone.
Norah made sound Dominic would never forget.
Half laugh.
Half sob.
At hospital Elena looked older than her age.
Thin.
Pale.
But alive.
Norah ran.
Mother and daughter held each other without words.
Teresa stood at door crying.
Elena saw her.
Her expression hardened.
“You.”
Teresa whispered:
“Elena.”
“You knew.”
Teresa didn't pretend.
“Yes.”
“You knew Vittorio wanted Adrian dead.”
“Yes.”
“And you let me run thinking Dominic would kill my baby.”
“I didn't know Carmine told you that.”
“You knew enough.”
“Yes.”
Elena’s anger faded into exhaustion.
“You people loved silence more than us.”
Teresa took it.
No defense.
Dominic entered last.
Elena stared.
For long time.
“You look like Vittorio.”
Worst possible.
Dominic nodded.
“I’ve been told.”
“Adrian worried about that.”
“I know.”
“He loved you.”
Dominic swallowed.
“I know now.”
Elena reached hand.
Dominic came closer.
She touched cheek.
“You were his hero when you were boys.”
He almost broke.
“Then why didn't he tell me?”
“Because heroes are dangerous when they become fathers.”
Meaning Vittorio? Or Dominic becoming like father.
Elena clarified.
“He was afraid loyalty to Vittorio mattered more.”
Dominic looked away.
Maybe it had.
Then Norah asked:
“Mom, what did Dad hide?”
Elena’s eyes shifted.
“The Book.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
Norah frowned.
“You spent thirty years protecting something you don't know location?”
“I knew clue.”
“What?”
“Adrian said, ‘If I don't make it, sins go where family pretends to be holy.’”
Dominic and Teresa looked at each other.
Townhouse chapel.
Old Russo family Bible.
They returned next day after authorities cleared.
Bible rested behind glass.
Dominic had seen it every Christmas.
Leather cracked.
Gold edges faded.
He opened.
Nothing obvious.
Elena examined.
Adrian had repaired spine months before death, supposedly sentimental.
Within binding was sealed packet.
Documents.
Copies of ledger pages.
Not one master book.
Enough.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
Vittorio’s corruption.
Joseph Bell’s conviction.
Carmine’s early involvement.
Adrian’s notes.
And a letter.
To Dominic.
His hands shook opening.
Dom,
If you are reading this, either I finally grew a spine or somebody took mine away.
Adrian humor.
Dominic smiled through tears.
Dad framed Joseph Bell. Carmine is right about that. But Carmine is wrong about what justice should look like. He wants to own what Dad stole. I want none of it.
Dominic continued.
Elena is pregnant. We’re leaving. I know you'll call that betrayal. Maybe you're right. But I can't raise child inside house where fear passes as loyalty.
Dominic stopped.
Norah covered mouth.
I don't hate you. I’m afraid for you. Dad has trained you to believe protecting family means protecting everything family has done. Those are not same thing.
Then final.
If you ever have chance to choose between Russo name and person you love, choose person. Names do not love you back.
Dominic cried openly.
Isabella sat beside him.
Teresa couldn't look.
Elena whispered:
“He wanted call you that night.”
“He did?”
“Yes. Carmine said he could arrange meeting.”
Trap.
Dominic closed eyes.
Adrian trusted wrong brother.
Then another document surfaced.
Joseph Bell’s letter.
To Carmine.
Written from prison.
Son, whatever you hear about Russos, do not spend your life avenging me. I did wrong too. Vittorio betrayed me, but I was not innocent. Boys should not inherit fathers’ wars.
Carmine had read this.
Maybe ignored.
Maybe never received? It was in Adrian's cache; perhaps Joseph sent Adrian copy after Carmine rejected original? Need explain.
Adrian obtained from Joseph before his death.
Joseph had tried give Carmine.
Carmine refused.
Adrian kept.
Dominic understood.
Carmine’s revenge had never been what father wanted.
Pain became identity.
Then Teresa said:
“What will you do?”
The ledger could implicate Dominic’s own past.
He knew.
Adrian's letter asked choice.
Name or person.
Dominic looked at Isabella.
Norah.
Elena.
Mother.
“Turn it over.”
Teresa whispered:
“Dominic.”
He looked.
“No more.”
“What about companies?”
“Whatever is legitimate survives.”
“And you?”
He knew.
“I answer for mine.”
Isabella stood.
“Dad.”
He hugged daughter.
“I've spent years telling men consequences were price of choices.”
“You're my father.”
“Yes.”
“I don't want you gone.”
“I know.”
Norah watched.
Dominic said:
“But if I hide this to stay, what do I teach you?”
Isabella cried.
He kissed forehead.
Then gave packet to attorney.
Everything.
Within hours, investigation expanded.
Carmine called that night.
“You found it.”
“Yes.”
“You're giving it away.”
“Yes.”
“You'll destroy Russo empire.”
Dominic stared at Adrian’s photograph.
“No.”
He whispered:
“I'm ending it.”
May you like
Carmine’s voice became icy.
“Then I'll end you first.”
