Chapter 8 - The Enemy Inside the Russo Family
Vincent read the message twice.
Norah watched his face.
“Who’s above Richard?”
“I don’t know.”
Matteo answered quietly.
“I think I do.”
Vincent looked at him.
Matteo placed a second photograph on the table.
A man in his sixties stepped from a black Mercedes outside a private club.
Anthony Russo.
Vincent’s uncle.
His father’s younger brother.
Vincent stared.
“No.”
“Anthony controlled the Newark accounts when Daniel first found the missing money.”
Norah understood.
“The betrayal came from inside your family.”
Vincent said nothing.
Matteo continued.
“Anthony introduced Richard Davenport to the Vitiellos twenty-six years ago.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“My uncle helped raise me.”
“So did Richard raise Khloe,” Norah said softly.
That stopped him.
Betrayal did not require distance.
Sometimes it required intimacy.
Anthony requested a meeting the next morning.
Vincent accepted.
Norah objected.
“So your solution to discovering your uncle may be behind multiple murders is to have coffee with him?”
“Espresso.”
“That distinction makes me feel much better.”
The meeting took place at Russo headquarters.
Anthony entered smiling.
He embraced Vincent.
“My boy.”
Vincent remained still.
Anthony noticed Norah.
“So this is the famous waitress.”
“Her name is Norah.”
“Of course.”
Anthony kissed her hand.
Norah immediately disliked him.
They sat.
Vincent placed the threatening photograph on the table.
Anthony examined it.
“Terrible.”
“You sent it.”
Anthony laughed.
“Why would I threaten your girlfriend?”
“Because her father found your accounts.”
Silence.
The smile disappeared.
Anthony leaned back.
“Salvatore always said you were intelligent.”
“My father knew?”
“Eventually.”
“You killed him.”
“No.”
“Richard poisoned him.”
“Richard panicked.”
Vincent’s expression hardened.
“And you let him.”
Anthony sighed.
“You were supposed to marry Khloe, absorb Davenport Shipping, and inherit everything peacefully. Then this girl interfered.”
Norah stared.
Anthony continued.
“Twelve words on a receipt destroyed twenty-six years of planning.”
Vincent stood.
“You tried to kill me.”
“I tried to prevent a war.”
“You hired the Vitiellos.”
“I built the arrangement that kept them controlled.”
“You murdered people.”
Anthony looked almost disappointed.
“Power always costs someone.”
Norah spoke.
“That’s what weak men say when somebody else pays.”
Anthony looked at her.
His eyes changed.
Vincent stepped between them.
“Careful.”
Anthony smiled.
“There he is.”
“What?”
“The weakness.”
Vincent did not react.
Anthony rose.
“You think you can become legitimate? Men like us don’t retire into real estate and charity dinners.”
“Watch me.”
Anthony buttoned his coat.
“You have forty-eight hours to transfer the Hayes shares.”
“Or?”
Anthony looked at Norah.
Vincent’s voice became quiet.
“If you finish that sentence, you won’t leave this building.”
Anthony smiled.
“Your father said something similar.”
Then he walked out.
Norah looked at Vincent.
“You let him go?”
“I needed him confident.”
Matteo entered from the adjoining office.
“Got it.”
Norah frowned.
Vincent pointed toward a hidden recorder.
Anthony had just confessed to enough financial crimes to justify warrants.
But murder required more.
Daniel provided the missing piece.
Salvatore Russo had kept a private journal.
Anthony had stolen it after his death.
Khloe knew where it was.
Richard had hidden personal records inside a safe at the Davenport estate in Southampton.
They obtained a warrant.
Inside the safe, investigators found Salvatore’s journal.
The final pages named Anthony.
But Anthony was already gone.
His private jet had departed Teterboro.
Destination unknown.
For two weeks, nothing happened.
Then Norah received a call.
It was Anthony.
“I have your father.”
Norah stood in her office.
Her blood went cold.
“You’re lying.”
Daniel was supposed to be in federal protection.
Anthony sent a photograph.
Daniel sat inside an unfamiliar room.
Alive.
“Where?”
“Come alone.”
“No.”
“Then he dies.”
Norah closed her eyes.
She knew better now.
She called Vincent.
Not because she needed rescuing.
Because she trusted him.
Twenty minutes later, Vincent entered her office.
She showed him the photograph.
He studied it.
Then smiled.
Norah stared.
“What?”
“He made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
Vincent enlarged the image.
Behind Daniel was a window.
Across the glass reflected a distinctive red neon sign.
Norah recognized it.
Laura.
The restaurant.
Anthony had returned to the place where everything began.
Vincent looked at her.
“He wants an ending.”
May you like
Norah picked up her coat.
“Then let’s give him one.”
