Chapter 4 - EMMA’S FATHER
Vincent Orsini was found at 8:17 that night.
Not dead.
Almost worse.
His car had crashed against a retaining wall beneath the Queensboro Bridge.
No other vehicle remained at the scene.
Vincent had been shot once through the shoulder and once through the abdomen.
When Calder arrived at Bellevue, Vincent was in surgery.
Calder waited.
Marco paced.
Detective Cole appeared forty minutes later.
“You really need hobbies.”
Calder looked at him.
“A man was shot.”
“You know a lot of those.”
“He works for me.”
“That sentence continues to make my life difficult.”
Calder looked toward surgery.
“Did they find his phone?”
“No.”
“Weapon?”
“Gone.”
“Any indication he fired?”
“Residue on his hand.”
“So he fought back.”
“Looks like.”
Cole studied him.
“Who is he to the girl?”
Calder looked over.
“How do you know?”
“Lena’s apartment wasn’t invisible to police.”
“Then you know.”
“Paternity papers.”
Calder said nothing.
Cole continued.
“I need Emma placed under official protection.”
“She is protected.”
“By whom?”
“My aunt.”
Cole stared.
“Your aunt.”
“Yes.”
“Does she carry a gun?”
“Probably in the kitchen.”
Cole rubbed his face.
“I regret asking.”
“Emma stays where she feels safe.”
“She is a witness.”
“She is six.”
“She saw kidnappers.”
“And she is six.”
For once, Cole did not argue.
At ten, the surgeon emerged.
Vincent survived.
Calder was allowed inside the recovery room after midnight.
Vincent looked terrible.
Pale.
Tubes.
Bandages.
He opened his eyes.
“Boss.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Vincent almost smiled.
“Been calling you that fifteen years.”
“Then this is a useful opportunity for growth.”
Vincent’s eyes closed.
Calder sat.
“Emma.”
His eyes opened instantly.
“Where?”
“Safe.”
Vincent’s entire body relaxed.
Calder watched.
That answered one question.
He loved her.
“Lena?”
Vincent’s expression broke.
“I don’t know.”
“What happened?”
Vincent looked toward the door.
Calder closed it.
“Talk.”
Vincent swallowed.
“Lena called me yesterday.”
“Why?”
“She found something.”
“The shipments.”
He stared.
“You know?”
“Enough.”
Vincent looked ashamed.
“I signed manifests.”
Calder’s voice became cold.
“How many?”
“Six.”
“You knew what they contained?”
“No.”
“Believe me when I say you should choose your next answer carefully.”
“I thought they were undeclared cash shipments.”
Calder stared.
“That is supposed to improve this?”
“No.”
“What cash?”
“Old network money.”
“Whose?”
“Salvatore’s.”
“My father has been dead eleven years.”
“I know.”
Vincent coughed.
“They said some reserves were being moved before the legitimate transition exposed them.”
“Who said?”
Vincent hesitated.
“Dante.”
Calder went still.
Dante Moretti.
His cousin.
His father’s sister’s son.
Raised almost like a brother.
Currently head of Moretti Security.
One of the few people who knew every warehouse, camera network and protected property Calder controlled.
“Dante told you?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Eight months ago.”
“What exactly?”
“That your father had accounts nobody wanted federal accountants finding.”
Calder’s jaw clenched.
“And you believed him.”
“He had codes.”
“My father’s codes.”
“Yes.”
Someone had resurrected Salvatore Moretti’s authority piece by piece.
The old executive account.
Digital certificates.
Shipping codes.
Knowledge only insiders possessed.
Calder looked at Vincent.
“Why didn’t you ask me?”
Vincent laughed painfully.
“Because the money came from the old days.”
Meaning if Calder said no, Vincent would have to admit he still participated in activities Calder had supposedly ended.
Cowardice.
Lena discovered the manifests.
Then what?
“I told her to stop digging.”
“You threatened her?”
“No.”
“She was the mother of your child and you told her to stop investigating your employer?”
Vincent’s eyes filled.
“I was trying to protect her.”
Calder’s voice sharpened.
“You people need another phrase.”
Vincent looked confused.
“Everyone says they were protecting someone immediately before explaining how they destroyed them.”
Vincent looked away.
“What is the red book?”
His face changed.
Calder saw it.
“You know.”
“Lena kept notes.”
“What kind?”
“Everything she couldn’t safely store digitally.”
“Names?”
“Yes.”
“Transactions?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“She told Emma to tell Moretti she had it.”
Vincent stared.
“She did?”
“Yes.”
For the first time, hope appeared in his face.
“Then she trusted you.”
“Why?”
Vincent swallowed.
“Because I told her you weren’t involved.”
Calder leaned back.
“You discussed me.”
“A lot.”
“Why?”
“Because Lena thought someone inside Moretti Atlantic was building a false accounting trail.”
“She was right.”
“She found transactions under your name.”
“I know.”
“Sofia’s.”
“I know.”
“Salvatore’s.”
“I know.”
Vincent stared.
“How?”
“Because while you were getting shot, I was doing your job.”
Vincent almost smiled.
Then winced.
“Dante?”
Calder waited.
“I think so.”
“Think?”
“Lena said someone accessed the audit server through security administration.”
“Dante controls that.”
“Yes.”
Calder’s chest tightened.
Dante had eaten dinner at Calder’s house every Christmas.
They grew up playing stickball behind Aunt Rose’s grocery.
When Calder’s father died, Dante stood beside him at the grave.
Family.
Again.
“Why would he do this?”
Vincent looked away.
“Because he hates what you’ve done.”
“What?”
“The legitimate transition.”
Calder laughed softly.
“Everyone appears nostalgic for felonies.”
“Not the crimes.”
“What then?”
“Power.”
There it was.
Calder had reduced the organization’s illegal income substantially.
No narcotics.
No extortion from neighborhood businesses.
No theft from pensions.
No street gambling involving minors.
He kept old relationships and some gray enterprises alive while pushing shipping, restaurants and real estate toward legitimacy.
Many welcomed it.
Some believed Calder was surrendering the family’s identity.
“Dante thinks you’re making the Morettis irrelevant.”
“And framing us for narcotics improves the brand?”
Vincent shook his head.
“I don’t think he’s just framing you.”
Calder waited.
“I think he wants you removed.”
Silence.
Vincent continued.
“If federal charges hit you, someone has to stabilize the family.”
“Dante.”
“Yes.”
“Then why involve Sofia?”
“To weaken any succession through your bloodline.”
Calder looked at him.
“And you?”
“I was disposable.”
“You signed the paperwork.”
“Yes.”
“Lena?”
“Too smart.”
“Emma?”
Vincent’s face twisted.
“She wasn’t supposed to know any of this.”
Calder leaned forward.
“Then why was a black sedan following them?”
Vincent closed his eyes.
“Because someone found out she was mine.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
Calder’s phone vibrated.
Sofia.
He answered.
“Calder.”
Her voice was tight.
“Emma woke up.”
“What happened?”
“She had a nightmare.”
“Is she okay?”
“She keeps asking for her mother.”
Calder looked at Vincent.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“She remembered a name.”
Calder stood.
“What name?”
“One of the men at Grand Central said it while they were grabbing Lena.”
Calder waited.
Sofia lowered her voice.
“Dante.”
Everything became still.
Vincent heard through the phone.
He closed his eyes.
Calder ended the call.
Vincent whispered, “Don’t kill him.”
Calder looked at him.
That request would once have been ridiculous.
Dante kidnapped a woman.
Hunted a child.
Framed Calder.
Probably arranged Vincent’s shooting.
In Calder’s old world, punishment would be automatic.
Permanent.
Instead Calder said, “I’m not promising him mercy.”
Vincent nodded.
“I know.”
“But I’m done burying family mistakes.”
He walked toward the door.
Vincent called after him.
“Calder.”
He turned.
“Emma doesn’t know I’m her father.”
Calder stared.
“Why?”
“Lena asked me to wait.”
“For what?”
“Until I was brave enough to choose them publicly.”
Calder’s expression hardened.
“And were you?”
Vincent’s eyes filled.
“I kept waiting.”
Calder looked at the wounded man.
“You may not get to decide when she learns now.”
“I know.”
Calder left.
Outside, Marco waited.
“Dante?”
Calder nodded.
“We take him.”
“Where?”
“He won’t be at home.”
“Office?”
“No.”
Calder knew his cousin.
If Dante realized Emma had escaped and Vincent survived, he would move fast.
He would need someplace only family knew.
Old Moretti locations.
Marco understood.
“The church basement?”
“No.”
“Red Hook warehouse?”
“Too obvious.”
Then Calder remembered.
His father’s hunting lodge.
Upstate.
Closed for fifteen years.
Dante loved it as a boy.
Marco made the calls.
Twenty minutes later, they found a traffic camera.
A Moretti Security SUV heading north.
Another vehicle followed.
Black sedan.
Calder stared at the image.
“Zoom passenger seat.”
Marco did.
A woman.
Dark hair.
Hands bound.
Lena.
Alive.
Calder’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Dante’s voice.
“Cousin.”
Calder closed his eyes.
“Lena is alive.”
“For now.”
“Predictable.”
Dante laughed.
“You always were arrogant.”
“And you always confused disloyalty with ambition.”
Pause.
Then Dante said, “I want the red book.”
“I don’t have it.”
“Emma does.”
Calder went still.
“What?”
Dante laughed.
“Lena was clever.”
Calder understood.
The faded blue hat.
The oversized thing Lena bought at Grand Central.
Not merely a disguise.
“Where?”
“Check the lining.”
The call ended.
Calder immediately called Sofia.
“Don’t touch Emma’s hat.”
Silence.
“Why?”
“Where is it?”
“On the hall table.”
“Put Emma in another room. Now.”
“Calder—”
“Now.”
Two minutes later Sofia called back.
“I opened the lining.”
“And?”
Her voice became quiet.
“There’s a small red notebook inside.”
May you like
The red book had been with Emma the entire time.
And now Dante knew exactly where it was.
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