Chapter 5 - The Queen of the House
Evelyn Costello returned from Palm Beach the following morning.
She was sixty-two, elegant, silver-blond, and so controlled that even Arthur became quieter around her.
Norah had seen her twice before.
Both times, Evelyn had passed the staff without acknowledging their existence.
This time she stopped directly in front of Norah.
“So,” she said. “You’re Daniel’s daughter.”
Arthur’s face became stone.
Norah understood immediately.
Evelyn had known all along.
At dinner, the truth emerged piece by piece.
Arthur’s father had built the Costello organization.
After his death, everyone assumed Arthur inherited it.
But Evelyn had preserved the machinery behind him.
Politicians.
Judges.
Port officials.
Accounts Arthur never knew existed.
Vincent answered to her.
Daniel Hale had discovered her network.
Paulie had discovered part of it later.
Evelyn had framed Paulie, expecting Arthur to execute him.
“You taught me the rules,” Arthur said.
Evelyn calmly lifted her wine.
“And you disappointed me by forgetting why they exist.”
“You killed Daniel Hale?”
Norah could barely say the words.
Evelyn looked at her.
“I authorized a problem to be resolved.”
Arthur rose so violently his chair fell backward.
Norah had never seen rage transform him that quickly.
But Evelyn did not flinch.
“You will sit down.”
Arthur crossed the room.
Norah caught his wrist.
“Arthur.”
He stopped.
Not because Evelyn commanded him.
Because Norah did.
His breathing was hard.
His fist remained closed.
Norah whispered, “If you kill her, she takes the truth with her.”
Slowly, Arthur stepped back.
Evelyn watched them.
Then she smiled.
That smile told Norah something else.
This was not over.
Evelyn wanted Arthur angry.
Uncontrolled.
She wanted him to become exactly what everyone already believed he was.
That night, Arthur sat outside Norah’s bedroom door.
Not inside.
Outside.
She opened it at one in the morning.
“What are you doing?”
“Thinking.”
“There are chairs.”
“I’m aware.”
Norah sat beside him.
For several minutes neither spoke.
Then Arthur said, “My mother used to lock me in the wine cellar when I cried.”
Norah looked at him.
“I was six the first time.”
He kept staring forward.
“My father said fear was embarrassing. My mother said tears were worse.”
The pieces aligned painfully.
Arthur had not been born without softness.
It had been punished out of him.
Norah wanted to reach for him.
She did not.
Understanding someone was not absolution.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she said. “But it doesn’t erase what you’ve done.”
“I know.”
That answer mattered more than an excuse would have.
Arthur turned his head.
“I don’t want to be him anymore.”
“Then don’t.”
“You think it’s that simple?”
“No.”
Norah stood.
“I think it’s that difficult.”
She returned to her room.
Before closing the door, she looked at him.
“You can’t change what your hands have done, Arthur. But you decide what they do next.”
The following morning, Arthur made his decision.
He called every captain in Chicago to the estate.
And announced he was dismantling the Costello organization.
May you like
Evelyn smiled.
Then every light in the mansion went out.
