Chương 8
“My office manager isn’t answering.”
“That happens at six in the morning.”
“I told him to lock the building.”
“And?”
“He would answer.”
“Why should I spend police resources protecting your property?”
“Because Elena Martinez found altered trucking invoices there, and Marco’s associate supervises the night shift.”
Silence.
“You left that out at the hospital,” Nora said.
“I learned it two minutes ago.”
“Who’s the associate?”
“Frank D’Amato.”
“You have an address?”
Tony was already writing it down.
Vincent gave her the details.
Nora said, “Do not go there.”
Vincent ended the call.
Tony looked at him.
“She told you not to.”
“She says many things.”
“Some of them are smart.”
“Get the car.”
Paulie stepped forward.
“Vince, let me fix this.”
Vincent looked at him.
“That sentence has buried more men than bullets.”
They arrived at Torino Freight nine minutes after the first patrol car.
Smoke rolled from a broken second-floor window.
Fire crews blocked the street. Employees stood behind yellow tape in coats thrown over pajamas. The office manager sat on an ambulance bumper with an oxygen mask over his face.
Nora saw Vincent step from the sedan and walked toward him with both hands raised.
“I specifically said not to come.”
“I specifically ignored you.”
“You think that’s charming?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“What happened?”
“Small fire in the records room. Sprinklers contained it.”
“Accidental?”
“They found the office manager in the stairwell with a head injury.”
Vincent looked toward the ambulance.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Frankie?”
“Missing.”
“Cameras?”
“System was disabled at one-twelve.”
The exact minute settled between them.
Sophie had entered the Golden Palm at one-seventeen.
Nora watched his face.
“You recognize the timing.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
Vincent did.
She turned toward her partner.
“Find out when the first emergency call from the restaurant came in.”
The partner left.
Nora lowered her voice.
“Marco’s lawyer says Marco spent the evening at your table until police arrived. Twenty witnesses confirm it.”
“He ordered the attack.”
“That’s a theory.”
“The girl identified him inside her apartment.”
“A seven-year-old who experienced extreme trauma identified a man she had possibly seen through a bathroom doorway.”
“She described his ring.”
“The ring everyone in your circle knows he wears.”
“Sophie isn’t in my circle.”
“Her mother worked for you.”
Vincent looked toward the smoking window.
“Why would Elena send her daughter to me?”
“I’ve been asking myself that.”
“And?”
“And I think she believed you already knew what Marco was doing.”
Vincent turned toward her.
Nora continued.
“She may have thought Marco was acting with your permission. Or she may have thought you’d protect your own business faster than police could protect her.”
“Which do you believe?”
“I think both are possible.”
The office manager removed his oxygen mask and waved weakly.
Vincent approached the ambulance.
Nora came with him.
The manager’s name was Neil Baxter, a nervous man in his sixties who wore short-sleeved shirts year-round and kept antacid tablets in every desk drawer.
“Mr. Torino,” he rasped.
“What happened?”
“Frankie came in.”
“When?”
“After one.”
“Alone?”
“I thought so.”
“You thought?”
“I heard someone upstairs.”
“Did you see them?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you call?”
“He said you sent him.”
Nora stepped closer.
“What exactly did he say?”
Neil looked at her badge.
“He said Mr. Torino wanted the Martinez files pulled before police came.”
“And you believed him?”
Neil looked ashamed.
“Frankie runs dispatch.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Neil’s eyes moved to Vincent.
Vincent said, “Answer her.”
“Yes,” Neil whispered. “I believed him.”
“What did he take?” Nora asked.
“The freight invoices. Fuel cards. Route adjustments.”
“Which routes?”
“I don’t know.”
Vincent did.
The green folders Elena handled contained revised billing for a group of refrigerated trucks moving between Chicago, Joliet, and distribution centers near the Indiana line. Refrigerated cargo received fewer roadside checks when paperwork showed medical supplies.
Elena’s former employer had been a medical supplier.
Marco had not hired her because she was easy to control.
He had hired her because she could make false medical shipments look real.
Then she had noticed the numbers changing after her approval.
Nora saw the conclusion form.
“What moves on those trucks?” she asked.
“Food,” Vincent said.
“That’s the official answer.”
“It’s the answer I had.”
“And the unofficial one?”
“I’m beginning to understand it.”
Nora stared at him.
“You expect me to believe one of your senior men built a trafficking operation inside your company without your knowledge?”
“Yes.”
“That’s convenient.”
“No. Convenient would be knowing.”
Neil began coughing.
A paramedic told them to step back.
Vincent walked toward the tape.
Nora followed.
“What don’t I know?” she asked.
Vincent watched water stream from the loading dock.
“Eight years ago, I prohibited narcotics in every business connected to me.”
She folded her arms.
“A moral awakening?”
“My daughter died.”
Nora’s expression changed, but only slightly.
“I knew she died. I didn’t know how.”
“Fentanyl in a pill she thought was something else.”
“How old?”
“Nineteen.”
“I’m sorry.”
Vincent looked at the smoke.
“Marco stood beside me at the funeral. He watched me tell every captain that anyone bringing poison through my streets was finished.”
“And you think he did it anyway.”
“I think he understood exactly where I wouldn’t look.”
“Because looking would hurt.”
“Because everyone knew the rule.”
Nora’s mouth tightened.
“Rules only work when they cost something.”
Vincent turned.
Sophie’s words sounded different now.
“Who said that to you?” Nora asked.
“Elena.”
Nora watched him.
“Through Sophie?”
“Yes.”
Her partner returned, holding a phone.
“First call from the Golden Palm came at one-nineteen. Patrol dispatch at one-twenty. Fire alarm here triggered at one-twenty-three.”
Nora nodded.
“Marco had time to send instructions from the second phone before staff confiscated it.”
“Assuming he sent them,” the partner said.
“Get the restaurant’s signal logs if we can. And find Frankie.”
Vincent said, “He’ll go to Marco.”
Nora looked at him.
“Then where is Marco?”
“At home if he wants you to think he’s innocent.”
May you like
“He is at home. Two officers outside.”
“He’ll stay there until he’s sure the evidence is gone.”
