Chapter 4 - THE ROSARY WITH THE MISSING BEAD
“Enzo was the man who raised all three of us.”
Elena stared at Dante.
“You said your father brought Marco into your house.”
“He did.”
“But Enzo raised you?”
“My father provided the house.”
Dante’s mouth tightened.
“Enzo provided most of everything else.”
Rides to school.
Baseball games.
Doctor appointments.
Late-night meals when Dante’s father disappeared into business.
Enzo Moretti had been uncle, teacher, protector and, after Nico died, the person who held what remained of the family together.
Elena understood immediately why Dante looked almost reluctant to believe the photograph.
“You love him.”
Dante didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
Mia had fallen asleep with Marco’s gray coat tucked beneath her cheek.
Elena carried her to Rosa’s bedroom.
When she returned, Dante was studying the pocket watch.
“Six-forty,” Elena said.
“Yes.”
“That mean anything?”
“Marco died at 8:10 the following morning.”
“So no.”
“Not yet.”
Rosa brought coffee nobody drank.
Dante called Enzo.
Not secretly.
Not with threats.
“I’m at Rosa Bellandi’s apartment.”
Silence on the other end.
Dante continued.
“Elena and Mia are with me.”
Another silence.
Then an older male voice said, “You found them.”
Elena’s stomach tightened.
Dante’s eyes hardened.
“You knew where they were.”
“Yes.”
“You sent me to Milwaukee.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you weren’t ready.”
Dante almost laughed.
“That decision was yours?”
“At the time.”
“Come here.”
Enzo arrived thirty minutes later.
He was sixty-eight.
Silver-haired.
Elegant without looking expensive.
Nothing about him matched the villain Elena had built in her head.
He removed his wet coat at the door and immediately looked toward the bedroom.
“Mia?”
“Asleep,” Elena said.
Something like relief crossed his face.
She disliked him more for it.
“You don’t get to be relieved.”
Enzo accepted that.
“No.”
Dante put the photograph on the table.
Then Marco’s note.
Then the coat-check ticket.
Enzo sat.
“You found the coat.”
“Yes.”
“Why did Marco warn Elena not to open the door for you?”
Enzo looked at Elena.
“Because the last time Marco saw me, we had an argument.”
“What about?”
“The relief fund.”
Dante leaned forward.
“Did you take the money?”
Enzo’s answer came immediately.
“Yes.”
Elena stopped breathing.
Dante did not move.
“How much?”
“One million eight hundred thousand.”
“Why?”
Enzo rubbed his face.
“Your father’s shipping company was collapsing.”
Dante stared.
“You stole employee relief money to save shipping?”
“To save four hundred jobs.”
“That fund belonged to workers.”
“I know.”
“Widows.”
“I know.”
“Children.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t say you saved jobs as if it cleans your hands.”
Enzo’s expression tightened.
“I haven’t slept cleanly in twenty years.”
Elena interrupted.
“Marco found out.”
“Yes.”
“And you framed him.”
“No.”
The answer surprised everyone.
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“His authorization was on every transfer.”
“Because your father ordered him to process them.”
Elena stared at Enzo.
“Marco knowingly moved the money?”
“Not knowingly.”
Enzo shook his head.
“I broke the transfers into legitimate payroll reserves. Marco signed the first six because the numbers looked correct.”
“And then?”
“He found one rounding error.”
Despite everything, Elena almost smiled.
Marco.
Of course.
“He traced the rest.”
Enzo continued.
“He came to me furious. Said if the company survived by stealing from the people cleaning its floors, it deserved to fail.”
That sounded like him too.
“What did you do?”
“I promised to restore every dollar.”
“Did you?”
“Most.”
Dante’s head lifted.
“Most?”
“One hundred eighty thousand remained when your father died.”
“And after?”
Enzo looked down.
“I continued making payments.”
“Then why was Marco blamed for two million?”
“I didn’t blame him.”
“Who did?”
Enzo looked at Dante.
“Your father.”
Silence.
Dante’s face became unreadable.
“My father was dead by the time Marco disappeared.”
“He prepared the story before he died.”
“Why?”
“To keep the Moretti name intact.”
Dante looked away.
Elena understood something then.
Dante’s enemy was not simply a criminal across a table.
It was a dead father he had spent years trying not to become.
She looked at Enzo.
“What about the false debts after Marco died?”
Enzo’s eyes moved to her.
“That was me.”
Elena stood.
Rosa whispered, “Elena.”
“No.”
She looked at Enzo.
“You had men come to my home.”
“I never ordered anyone to threaten you.”
“They told me Marco owed money.”
“I know.”
“They took our savings.”
“I know.”
“I sold my ring.”
Enzo closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“You knew I had a three-year-old child?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His answer came painfully slowly.
“Because two people outside the family believed Marco had kept proof of the original transfers.”
“And?”
“I needed them to believe you had nothing.”
Dante stared.
“You destroyed her life to hide her.”
“I thought poverty made her unimportant.”
Elena almost struck him.
Instead she said something quieter.
“You thought I could survive anything as long as strangers didn’t kill me.”
Enzo’s face broke.
“Yes.”
“That is not protection.”
“No.”
“You don’t get credit for that.”
“I know.”
Dante stood.
“You could have sent me to her.”
“And you would have brought her into the Moretti house.”
“Yes.”
“Exactly.”
Dante’s eyes hardened.
“You were afraid someone would use her against me.”
“I was afraid they would use Mia.”
That silenced him.
Enzo looked toward the bedroom.
“There were men looking for whatever Marco kept.”
“Who?” Elena asked.
“The Russo organization.”
Dante’s expression changed.
Elena recognized the name.
Even people outside that world knew it.
“Why would they care about an employee fund?”
“Because part of the money never went into shipping.”
Dante leaned closer.
“What?”
Enzo looked at him.
“Your father used some of it to pay the Russos.”
“For what?”
“To keep them off our docks during the strike year.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“How much?”
“Six hundred thousand.”
“So the fund wasn’t only stolen to save jobs.”
“No.”
“It bought peace.”
“Yes.”
“And Marco discovered that.”
“Yes.”
Elena remembered something.
The gray coat.
She reached into the outer pocket.
Her fingers touched beads.
A black rosary.
Old silver crucifix.
One bead missing near the center.
Dante stared.
“That’s yours.”
Enzo looked at it.
His face changed.
“I haven’t seen that in four years.”
Elena held it up.
“How did Marco get it?”
Enzo rubbed the bare space around his wrist where something had once been worn.
“The night of the Lunetta benefit.”
“The night before he died.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“We argued behind the restaurant.”
“About the money?”
“About you.”
Elena frowned.
“Me?”
“Marco wanted to tell you everything.”
“And you didn’t want him to.”
“I told him the moment you knew, you became part of it.”
Dante said, “You fought.”
Enzo nodded.
“Marco grabbed the rosary when I tried to stop him from leaving. The chain broke.”
Elena examined it.
One bead missing.
Mia appeared in the hallway.
Her hair was messy from sleep.
“Mommy?”
Elena immediately lowered the rosary.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Mia walked toward her.
Then she saw the beads.
Her eyes brightened.
“I have the other one.”
Every adult froze.
“What other one?” Elena asked.
Mia touched the little bracelet beneath her raincoat sleeve.
Elena had made it from beads Marco left in an old kitchen drawer.
One black bead sat between yellow plastic flowers.
Mia pointed.
“Daddy’s black one.”
Enzo went pale.
Elena removed the bracelet carefully.
The black bead matched the rosary exactly.
But something small was tied through its center.
A tiny brass tag.
Dante held it beneath the light.
Stamped into the metal were three numbers.
214.
The same number as Marco’s Lunetta coat-check ticket.
Enzo whispered, “That isn’t possible.”
Dante looked at him.
“Why?”
Enzo stared at the brass tag.
“Because coat 214 didn’t belong to Marco.”
“Whose was it?”
Enzo looked directly at Elena.
May you like
“Your husband took that ticket from the man who actually stole the last one hundred eighty thousand dollars.”
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