Chapter 9 - THE NIGHT CHICAGO CHANGED
By Monday morning, Vincent Martini's empire was beginning to collapse.
Three warehouses had been searched.
Two executives had been arrested.
A federal task force had seized financial records connecting Martini-controlled businesses to Voss Medical Holdings.
Vincent sat in a private hospital room, watching the news without speaking.
Gabriel entered carrying a folder.
"Federal investigators want another interview."
Vincent nodded.
"Schedule it."
"They're asking about Anthony."
"Tell them everything we know."
Gabriel hesitated.
"Boss, some of what we know could put you in prison."
Vincent looked toward the window.
"I know."
"You built this organization."
"And maybe that's the problem."
Gabriel placed the folder down.
"Rico wants to talk."
Vincent closed his eyes.
"Send him in."
Rico entered without his usual confidence.
He looked older than he had three days earlier.
Vincent watched him.
"Why?"
Rico sat.
"I thought I was protecting you."
"By telling Mary I abandoned her?"
"Anthony said you'd leave."
"I would have."
Rico nodded.
"I know."
Vincent's voice grew quiet.
"You let me mourn her."
Rico lowered his head.
"I did."
"You watched me visit her grave."
"Yes."
"You watched me become my father."
Rico's eyes filled.
"Yes."
Vincent looked away.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Vincent said, "You're going to tell Detective Whitcomb everything."
Rico nodded.
"And after that?"
"That's between you and the law."
Rico stood.
At the door, he stopped.
"Vincent?"
"What?"
"Mary really did love you."
Vincent's expression tightened.
"I know."
"No. You don't."
Rico swallowed.
"She refused to believe the note. She kept asking me to take her to you."
Vincent looked up.
"How many times?"
Rico's eyes lowered.
"Seven."
The room went silent.
Vincent closed his eyes.
Seven times.
Mary had asked for him seven times.
And seven times, Rico had chosen the lie.
That afternoon, Mary sat beside Daniel's bed.
He had survived the medical crisis.
He was weak, but conscious.
For the first time in ten years, father and daughter could speak without someone listening behind a locked door.
Mary held his hand.
"I thought you left because you didn't want us."
Daniel's eyes filled.
"Never."
She began crying.
"I hated you sometimes."
He nodded.
"I know."
"I was so angry."
"You had every right."
Mary pressed her forehead against his hand.
"I missed you."
Daniel's voice cracked.
"My girl."
She stayed like that for a long time.
When she finally looked up, Daniel whispered something unexpected.
"Vincent... didn't know."
Mary nodded.
"I believe that now."
"His father..."
Daniel swallowed.
"Anthony was dangerous. But he wasn't the worst one."
Mary frowned.
"Who was?"
Daniel looked toward the door.
"Isabella."
Mary froze.
"Vincent's mother?"
Daniel nodded.
"She found the records. She wanted control."
"Control of what?"
"Everything."
Mary felt cold.
"Did she start the warehouse fire?"
Daniel's eyes filled with terror.
"She ordered it."
"Why?"
"Because I wouldn't give her the ledger."
Mary stared at him.
"And why did she want me dead?"
Daniel's expression changed.
"She didn't."
Mary leaned closer.
"Then why was I there?"
Daniel struggled to speak.
"She wanted you alive."
Mary shook her head.
"That doesn't make sense."
Daniel gripped her hand.
"Because... you're..."
His breathing faltered.
Mary leaned closer.
"Dad?"
Before he could finish, Angela entered.
"Mary, there's someone here to see you."
Mary turned.
Detective Whitcomb stood in the doorway.
Her expression was grim.
"We found Jack Sullivan."
Mary stood immediately.
"Is he alive?"
Whitcomb nodded.
"He's alive."
Mary began crying with relief.
"Where?"
"At a private rehabilitation property outside Milwaukee. He was being held there under a false name."
"Can I see him?"
"Yes."
Whitcomb hesitated.
"But there's something else."
Mary stared at her.
"What?"
"We recovered the original ledger."
Mary felt her heart pound.
"Where?"
Whitcomb opened a folder.
"Inside a locked compartment connected to Eleanor Voss's bracelet."
Mary frowned.
"The bracelet was a key."
"Exactly."
Whitcomb placed a photograph on the table.
It showed the first page of the ledger.
Several names were highlighted.
Anthony Martini.
Eleanor Voss.
Isabella Martini.
And one more.
Mary Andrews.
Beside Mary's name was a handwritten designation.
PRIMARY BENEFICIARY.
Mary stared at the words.
"I don't understand."
Whitcomb looked at her carefully.
"Neither do we."
Then she turned the page.
And Mary saw something that made her entire body go cold.
The ledger contained a photograph of a baby girl.
A newborn.
Wrapped in a white hospital blanket.
May you like
On the back, someone had written:
Mary Isabella Martini.
