Chapter 11 - BACK TO PIER 44
I watched Victor’s video twelve times.
On the thirteenth, Jonas noticed something.
“There.”
He paused the image.
Behind Ewan was a steel beam painted yellow.
A faded number remained near the base.
12.
“That isn’t Pier 44.”
I looked closer.
The original warehouse had been demolished after the fire.
Nothing with that beam still existed.
Victor wanted us to think Ewan was there.
“Find the beam.”
Jonas sent the image to three men.
Vincent stood across the room looking sick.
“My brother wouldn’t hurt Ewan.”
“He already kidnapped him.”
“Maybe he’s trying to force a meeting.”
“With a death threat.”
“Victor has always been dramatic.”
“So are funerals.”
Vincent looked away.
I walked toward him.
“Why would your brother work for Leonard?”
“Money.”
“That easy?”
“For Victor?”
He gave a bitter laugh.
“Usually.”
My phone rang.
Celeste.
I answered on speaker.
“Your father is getting impatient,” I said.
“My father doesn’t get impatient.”
“He should start.”
“Did you receive Victor’s message?”
Vincent closed his eyes.
There was the confirmation.
“You know he has Ewan.”
“I know many things.”
“Does Leonard know Ewan can identify everyone involved in Pier 44?”
“He can’t speak.”
“He can point.”
Celeste went quiet.
I continued.
“And federal courts accept people who point.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t what?”
“Bring law enforcement into your family.”
There it was.
The assumption holding her entire plan together.
The Morettis handled Moretti problems privately.
We always had.
My father had died believing that.
Ewan had nearly died because of it.
My mother had lost her voice because of it.
Perhaps some traditions deserved to die before the people following them did.
“What time is rehearsal tomorrow?” I asked.
Celeste sounded confused.
“Six.”
“I’ll see you there.”
“Matteo—”
I ended the call.
Vincent looked at me.
“You’re serious about involving federal investigators.”
“I’m serious about ending this.”
“You understand what those ledgers contain.”
“My family too.”
“You could lose everything.”
I thought about Ewan in that chair.
My mother in her bed.
Delia lying among broken glass.
“Maybe everything is exactly what this costs.”
At 2:00 a.m., Jonas received an answer about the yellow beam.
It belonged to an abandoned Vandermark grain terminal south of Joliet.
We left immediately.
No convoy.
No parade of armed cars.
Just Jonas, Vincent, me, and two men I trusted.
We entered through an old loading dock.
The building smelled of dust and rust.
On the second floor we found the chair from the video.
Empty.
Beside it was Ewan’s coat.
Still warm.
Then a phone began ringing somewhere above us.
We followed the sound to a catwalk.
The phone sat alone on the railing.
I answered.
Victor’s voice came through.
“You always were faster than Antonio.”
“Where’s Ewan?”
“With someone who wants to see you.”
“Leonard?”
Victor laughed.
“No.”
“Who?”
A light switched on at the far end of the terminal.
A woman stepped out of the shadows.
For the first time in twenty-three years, I saw my father’s younger sister.
Aunt Sofia.
The woman my family had told me died in Italy.
May you like
She looked at me and said, “Your father lied about more than one dead Moretti.”
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