Chương 8
“You have four armed men and telephones in Croatia.”
“I am aware of my resources.”
“Then use them.”
“He knows the resources.”
Ghost approached the basket again.
Nina lowered her voice. “Do you think he took Ghost?”
“I think he acquired him.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
Lorenzo leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees. “I think Dominic has lied to me for years.”
Nina watched his fingers. They were still, but the tendons in his hands stood out.
“Was he your friend?”
“No.”
“Another lie.”
His eyes lifted.
Nina shrugged. “You’re not good at them when the truth bothers you.”
For a moment, anger sharpened his face. Then it passed.
“We grew up together,” he said. “He worked for my father. When my father died, half the people around me decided I was temporary. Dominic did not.”
“And Ghost came from him.”
“Yes.”
“Maybe that’s why you don’t want to ask too many questions.”
Lorenzo stood.
Ghost immediately abandoned the basket.
Nina stayed seated.
“You have mistaken tolerance for permission,” Lorenzo said.
“No. I’ve noticed you use anger when you don’t want to answer.”
He took one step toward her.
Ghost moved between them.
The dog did not growl. He simply placed his body across Nina’s knees and looked up at Lorenzo.
The anger left Lorenzo’s face so quickly it was almost frightening.
He turned toward the windows.
Nina touched Ghost’s side. “I’m not trying to take everything from you.”
“You are trying to take him.”
“I am trying to understand what happened.”
“And if you understand?”
“Then I decide what I can live with.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
Lorenzo looked back. “There are two people in this room who have a claim.”
“There are three.”
Ghost sneezed.
Nina smiled faintly. “He has one too.”
That afternoon, an envelope appeared beneath the door of Nina’s apartment.
There was no knock.
Inside were five thousand dollars in cash and a typed note.
TAKE THE MONEY. STOP VISITING.
No signature.
Camila stood by the kitchen counter while Nina counted the bills.
“Maybe it’s from Marjorie,” Camila said. “She always seemed generous.”
Nina photographed the note, the envelope, and the bills without touching them again.
“Do not call Castellano,” Camila said.
“I have to.”
“You have to call the police.”
“And say a man left me money for no reason?”
“Say you are being threatened.”
“The note doesn’t threaten me.”
“It was placed inside our locked building.”
Nina looked at the deadbolt.
Camila’s face tightened. “Exactly.”
Nina called Rocco, whose number had appeared on her phone after the first visit.
He answered immediately.
“Is he there?” she asked.
“Who?”
“Lorenzo.”
“Mr. Castellano is in a meeting.”
“Tell him Dominic sent me money.”
The line went quiet.
“How much?”
“Five thousand.”
“Do not touch it.”
“I counted it.”
Rocco swore softly.
“I used gloves.”
“You own gloves?”
“I work in catering. I own three kinds.”
“Do not leave the apartment.”
“I’m going to my mother’s.”
“No.”
“You don’t get to say no.”
“Then call it a strong recommendation.”
“I need the old police report.”
“We can retrieve it.”
“I don’t want you retrieving anything.”
“Why?”
“Because every time you people solve a problem, someone becomes afraid to talk about it.”
Rocco breathed out. “Stay where you are for twenty minutes.”
“I’m leaving in ten.”
He said something to someone away from the phone, then returned. “Mr. Castellano is on his way.”
“I didn’t invite him.”
“He doesn’t wait for invitations.”
“I’ve noticed.”
Lorenzo arrived in eleven minutes with Rocco and another guard.
Camila met them in the hallway holding a wooden spoon.
Lorenzo looked at it.
“It was nearby,” she said.
“I see.”
“It’s heavy.”
“I believe you.”
Nina watched from the kitchen. “Don’t encourage her.”
They examined the envelope. Rocco found no useful print, no camera footage from the building hallway, and no sign of forced entry downstairs.
“Somebody let him in,” Camila said.
“Or followed a tenant,” Rocco replied.
“Our neighbors notice everything.”
“Your neighbors notice what they understand.”
Mrs. Kowalski opened her door across the hall. “I saw a man.”
Everyone turned.
She was eighty, wore a purple bathrobe, and carried a glass of tomato juice.
“What man?” Nina asked.
“Blue jacket. Nice hair. He held the door for me.”
“What did he look like?”
“Like he spent too much on his teeth.”
Lorenzo showed her a photograph of Dominic Vella.
Mrs. Kowalski squinted. “Maybe.”
He showed her another man.
“Maybe him.”
A third.
“He has honest ears.”
Rocco closed the phone.
Mrs. Kowalski looked at Lorenzo. “You’re the one from the newspaper.”
“No,” he said.
“Yes, you are.”
“Which newspaper?”
“The one my son sends me links from. You look better in person.”
Camila lowered the spoon.
Lorenzo thanked Mrs. Kowalski and guided everyone back into the apartment.
“She was useful,” Nina said.
“She identified three men.”
“One had honest ears.”
Lorenzo ignored that. “You are not going to your mother’s.”
“I need the police report.”
“Rocco will go.”
“The report is in a box in her closet.”
“Then he will retrieve the box.”
“You’re sending an armed stranger into my mother’s closet?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Lorenzo’s voice hardened. “Dominic may know where she lives.”
The room lost its humor.
Nina reached for her coat.
Lorenzo stepped in front of the door.
“Move.”
“No.”
“You think standing there makes this less frightening?”
“I think it keeps you alive long enough to resent me tomorrow.”
Camila sat slowly at the kitchen table.
Nina looked at her cousin, then at the money under plastic on the counter.
“What do you want from the report?” Lorenzo asked.
“The names. Statements. There was a van.”
“What van?”
“A black security van parked in the alley the week before Ghost disappeared. I took a picture.”
“You did not mention this.”
“I didn’t remember until I saw Dominic’s company name.”
“Where is the picture?”
“Probably printed with the report. My phone broke that winter.”
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“Why did the police not follow it?”
“The plate was hidden. The logo looked generic. They said dogs go missing all the time.”
