Chương 3
Loyalty had made him dangerous long before money did.
“They disrespected you,” Carlo said.
“This is not about respect.”
“That’s exactly what it is.”
“No. It’s about a seven-day-old boy trying to breathe.”
Another silence followed.
Carlo’s voice softened. “Is he going to make it?”
“I don’t know.”
The admission cost Vincent more than the order.
Carlo heard it.
“We can fix this,” he said.
“No.”
“They’ll beg.”
“I said no.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Go home.”
Carlo gave a short, humorless laugh. “You don’t mean that.”
“I mean go home to Teresa. Sit at your kitchen table. Let her complain about the cabinet hinge you still haven’t fixed. Keep your phone where she can see it.”
“You think I’m a child?”
“I think you’re about to turn my son’s poisoning into a war he never asked for.”
Carlo said nothing.
Vincent closed his eyes.
“If you move without my word,” he said, “you are no longer protecting me.”
The line stayed quiet long enough that Vincent checked whether it had disconnected.
Then Carlo said, “Understood.”
Vincent ended the call.
Detective Quinn was standing behind him.
She had not heard Carlo’s side of the conversation, but she had heard enough.
“You often tell people not to start wars?” she asked.
Vincent put the phone in his pocket.
“Only people who confuse revenge with usefulness.”
“Who was that?”
“A friend.”
“Name?”
He looked at her.
She lifted one eyebrow.
“Right,” she said. “Let’s find a room.”
Vincent sat across from her in the same consultation room Robert had used. Ellis took the chair by the wall and opened his tablet.
Quinn placed Vincent’s medallion in a clear evidence pouch on the table.
“Why did you leave this beside the bottle?”
“My hands needed something to do.”
“That’s an expensive habit.”
“It belonged to my mother.”
“You remove it often?”
“No.”
“Why tonight?”
Vincent looked through the glass at the doors leading to the neonatal unit.
“I was deciding whether to become the man Robert believed I was.”
“And what man is that?”
“The kind who doesn’t need police.”
Ellis stopped typing.
Quinn remained still.
“You threatened him in front of two officers,” she said.
“I warned him.”
“About the underworld.”
“Yes.”
“You say that casually.”
“I’m not feeling casual.”
“Are you involved in organized crime?”
Vincent looked at her coffee. A thin skin had formed across the surface.
“You should throw that away.”
“I’ll put that in the interview notes.”
“It smells burned.”
“It came from a hospital machine. Burned is the best-case scenario.”
He almost smiled.
The expression vanished before it formed.
Quinn leaned forward. “Are you involved in organized crime?”
“My wife and son are unconscious.”
“I know.”
“You are asking the wrong question.”
“I’m asking several questions. One of them is whether somebody targeted your family because of you.”
That landed.
Vincent’s fingers closed around the edge of the table.
“Robert and Diane were with Emily this afternoon,” he said.
“How do you know?”
“Emily called me at three fourteen. She said they had arrived with groceries.”
“You have the call record?”
“My phone does.”
“What did she say?”
“That Diane was being useful in a way that made her nervous.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Diane reorganizes other people’s kitchens when she wants to appear generous.”
Quinn waited.
Vincent looked down at his hands.
“Emily said Noah wouldn’t settle. Robert offered to prepare the bottle. She didn’t want him to. She laughed while she said it.”
“Why?”
“Because Robert once tried to make coffee without putting water in the machine.”
Ellis typed.
Vincent continued.
“She said she had a headache. She sounded tired, but she had been tired for a week.”
“When did you last speak after that?”
“Six forty-two. She didn’t answer. I called again at six forty-four. Then seven times.”
“What did you do?”
“I left work.”
“Where were you?”
“Midtown.”
“Driving whom?”
“A client.”
“Name?”
“My attorney will provide it.”
Quinn’s gaze sharpened. “That’s where we’re going now?”
“That is where we should have gone when you asked about organized crime.”
“Did you enter the apartment?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“My key.”
“Was the door locked?”
“Yes.”
“Robert told us it wasn’t.”
“Robert lies even when the truth would cost him less.”
“What did you find?”
“Emily on the floor near the sofa. Noah in the bassinet. The bottle beside him. Both breathing. Barely.”
“Where were Robert and Diane?”
“Gone.”
“You called emergency services?”
“At seven twenty-nine.”
“Before or after you called your people?”
Vincent looked at her.
Quinn said, “We have the call log from dispatch. We’ll get the rest.”
“I called no one before the ambulance.”
“Did you touch the bottle?”
“No.”
“The blister pack?”
“No.”
“Emily?”
“Yes.”
“Noah?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“I checked whether they were breathing. I put Emily on her side. I did what the dispatcher told me.”
“What did you think had happened?”
“I thought the apartment had carbon monoxide.”
“Why?”
“They were both unconscious.”
“Did the alarm sound?”
“No.”
“Did you see medication?”
“On the counter.”
“Had you seen it before?”
“No.”
“Do you keep sedatives in the apartment?”
“No.”
“Does Emily?”
“No.”
“Have you ever used drugs to control or punish someone?”
Ellis stopped typing again.
Vincent’s face became empty.
Quinn did not look away.
“At work,” Vincent said, “I have moved people who did not want to move.”
“That’s vague.”
“It is precise enough for tonight.”
“Not for me.”
“My lawyer will be here in twenty minutes.”
“Then we have twenty minutes.”
“No. You have eighteen. It takes him two minutes to complain about parking.”
Quinn stared at him.
Vincent stared back.
Then, from the corridor, Noah’s monitor changed.
It slowed.
Not much. Only a few beats. But Vincent heard the difference immediately.
His chair moved backward.
Quinn stood before he reached the door.
A nurse came out of the neonatal unit.
“Mr. Moretti?”
May you like
Vincent’s hand closed around the doorframe.
“Your son’s breathing is improving,” she said. “Dr. Hart wants you to know his numbers are moving in the right direction.”
