Chapter 12 - THE MAN WHO REMEMBERED EVERYTHING
By noon, Arthur had doubled security.
By twelve-ten, Clara had reduced it.
“You assigned six men to the elementary school.”
“Eight.”
“That is worse.”
“They’re discreet.”
“Arthur, one of them is built like a refrigerator.”
“He’s excellent at surveillance.”
“He frightened the crossing guard.”
Arthur folded his arms.
Clara folded hers.
Gregory watched from the doorway.
Marriage had taught him many things.
The most important was knowing when to remain silent.
Clara pointed at Arthur.
“Two guards.”
“Four.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
“Two and Michael.”
Arthur considered it.
“Fine.”
Gregory nodded approvingly.
“Excellent negotiation.”
Both turned toward him.
He immediately left.
The real problem remained Samuel Rourke.
Clara searched old corporate archives.
Michael contacted retired Costello employees.
Arthur reviewed documents recovered during Dominic’s prosecution.
Nothing.
Samuel had been erased almost perfectly.
Then Clara found a pension payment.
Not to Samuel.
To Margaret Rourke.
A nursing home outside Milwaukee.
Arthur wanted to go.
Clara went with him.
Margaret Rourke was eighty-three and sharper than either expected.
She looked at Arthur for perhaps five seconds before saying:
“You have Anthony’s eyes.”
Arthur sat opposite her.
“You knew my father?”
“I knew all of them.”
“Dominic?”
Her mouth tightened.
“Especially Dominic.”
Clara placed the old photograph on the table.
Margaret touched Samuel’s face.
“My husband.”
“What happened to him?”
Margaret looked toward the window.
“For seventeen years, nobody cared.”
Arthur accepted the accusation.
“I care now.”
“Because someone frightened you.”
Arthur did not lie.
“Yes.”
Margaret studied him.
That answer seemed to matter.
“Samuel helped your father prepare to leave organized crime.”
Arthur leaned forward.
“We know Anthony wanted out.”
“No.”
Margaret shook her head.
“You know part of it.”
Anthony had discovered Dominic was moving weapons through Costello shipping routes without permission.
Worse, Dominic had begun trafficking stolen pharmaceuticals and bribing officials.
Anthony wanted everything shut down.
Samuel collected evidence.
They planned to turn it over to federal prosecutors.
“Then Dominic found out,” Clara said.
Margaret nodded.
“Anthony died.”
“And Samuel?”
“He came home that night covered in blood.”
Arthur went still.
“Whose?”
“He never told me.”
Margaret continued.
Samuel had survived.
For three days.
Then he disappeared voluntarily.
Before leaving, he told Margaret something strange.
If Arthur ever became like Dominic, the evidence should remain buried.
But if Arthur ever became like his father—
Margaret looked at him.
“Samuel said you would know what to do.”
Arthur stared.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
Clara did not believe her.
Neither did Arthur.
But they did not pressure her.
As they stood to leave, Margaret called after them.
“Arthur.”
He turned.
“Your father was proud of you.”
Arthur’s face changed.
“He died when I was seventeen.”
“He knew what Dominic was trying to make you.”
Arthur said nothing.
Margaret smiled sadly.
“He was afraid he wouldn't live long enough to stop it.”
Outside, Arthur stood beside the car.
Clara waited.
Finally he said:
“I spent half my life becoming the man my father was trying to save me from.”
“And the other half?”
Arthur looked at her.
Clara stepped closer.
“Arthur, what did you do with the second half?”
He glanced toward the road.
Legitimate company.
Marriage.
Children.
Michael alive.
A home without blood.
“I tried to fix it.”
Clara took his hand.
“That matters.”
His phone rang.
Michael.
Arthur answered.
“What?”
Michael sounded breathless.
“Someone broke into the old Costello estate.”
Arthur’s expression sharpened.
“What did they take?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why break in?”
Michael paused.
“They left something.”
Arthur and Clara exchanged a glance.
“What?”
“A cassette tape.”
Arthur stopped breathing.
May you like
Michael continued.
“It has your name on it.”
