Chương 7 - THE VOICE MY MOTHER LEFT BEHIND
The recording wasn't on Valentina's memory card.
Of course it wasn't.
Nothing in my life could be simple anymore.
But Valentina left a clue.
Three murders.
Nico paced the library.
“Camille would've hidden it somewhere connected to Elena.”
Arthur nodded.
“Somewhere Salvatore couldn't legally search.”
I thought about my childhood.
Thomas and Mom's house.
Sold after Thomas died.
Storage boxes.
School albums.
Old furniture.
Then I remembered a cassette player.
Mom used to record bedtime stories for me because she worked evening shifts.
Thomas gave me the box of tapes after she died.
I hadn't listened to them in years.
They were inside a storage unit in Jersey City.
We went before sunrise.
Nico insisted on coming.
I almost refused.
Then decided I was done pretending independence meant rejecting useful help.
The unit smelled like dust and cardboard.
We found the box under Christmas decorations.
Twenty-three cassette tapes.
Most were labeled in Mom's handwriting.
ELENA AGE 5.
BEDTIME.
CHRISTMAS SONGS.
Then one tape had no label.
I put it inside an old recorder.
Static.
Then Mom's voice.
“If you're hearing this, Thomas, something has happened.”
My hands began shaking.
Nico stood behind me.
She described meeting Salvatore privately after leaving Bellandi Imports.
She confronted him about several deaths disguised as accidents.
A union accountant.
A contractor.
And Isabella Bellandi's brother, Matteo.
Then Salvatore's voice came through.
Clear.
Angry.
“You think those men were innocent?”
Mom.
“I think they're dead.”
“They were problems.”
“And if I become a problem?”
A pause.
“You already are.”
My stomach turned.
The tape continued.
Salvatore admitted ordering the union accountant's death.
Admitted arranging the contractor's overdose.
Then he mentioned Matteo.
“I gave Dennis the route. That's all.”
Three murders.
Enough to destroy him.
But Mom's own death wasn't recorded.
Because it happened years later.
The tape ended with her telling Thomas where copies had been placed.
One with an attorney.
One inside a church archive.
One with Isabella.
Nico's mother.
“Isabella had evidence against Salvatore?” I asked.
Nico looked devastated.
“She never told me.”
Alessandro had said Isabella died of an aneurysm.
Suddenly, no death felt natural.
We returned to the house.
Nico confronted his father.
“When Mom died, was there an autopsy?”
“Yes.”
“Who signed it?”
Alessandro didn't answer quickly enough.
Nico went pale.
“Dennis Rizzi?”
Alessandro nodded.
The same detective connected to my mother's fake drunk-driving report.
Nico's mother had died three years before mine.
Both women had possessed copies of Salvatore's confession.
Arthur contacted a retired medical examiner.
Isabella's original toxicology files had been altered after her death.
One preliminary screen showed an unusual cardiac medication.
A drug not prescribed to her.
Nico sat down.
For the first time since I'd known him, he looked lost.
I understood.
My mother had been murdered.
His might have been too.
Then Alessandro said something unexpected.
“I knew.”
Nico lifted his head.
“What?”
“I knew Isabella didn't die naturally.”
Silence filled the room.
Nico stepped toward his father.
“And you did nothing?”
Alessandro's face twisted.
“I did something.”
“What?”
“I tried to kill Salvatore.”
Arthur went still.
Alessandro continued.
“I failed.”
Nico's voice was barely audible.
“What happened?”
“Someone warned him.”
“Who?”
Alessandro looked toward Arthur.
The room froze.
Arthur's face changed.
“No.”
But Alessandro was certain.
“Your father.”
Arthur stopped breathing.
May you like
Because Arthur's father had supposedly died protecting Alessandro Bellandi.
Apparently he had been protecting Salvatore instead.
