She took a deep breath suddenly afraid he would laugh.
“Tell me.”
Corelli explained everything—the undercover assignment, the Righteous Partners story, the press conference, the attempts to kill her, Jimmy’s lust for vengeance, Kelly’s threat, and the threat to Simone and the rest of her family.
He was silent. She waited for his response, hardly daring to breathe. She heard him draw on his cigarette, and exhale. Funny, she hadn’t noticed the smoke filling the car.
“I know you won a Silver Star in Iraq for bravery. Then you came home and went undercover for three months with a gang of cops who would kill you without a thought. After that, you fought two men with guns, probably cops, broke their noses, and lived to tell the tale.” He sounded impressed. “And you risked your life to save my grandson. You are a brave woman, braver than many men.”
Uncomfortable with the flush of pleasure she felt at the admiration in his voice, she cleared her throat.
“A dirty cop threatens your family again.”
“What do you mean again?”
“Luca was killed by a dirty cop. He was an innocent who happened to see something he shouldn’t have, something to implicate the cop in murder. The cop made it look like we did it.”
“Who? Why didn’t you tell me? You promised.”
His voice was soft. “You were a little girl. What could you do? And then you were a cop, sworn to defend and protect. Would you have killed him in cold blood?”
“Probably not. But who was it?”
“Eddie Consuelo. He’s dead a long time now. He was careless and things caught up with him.”
“Did you? Wait. Don’t answer that question. I’d rather not know.”
He laughed. “Don’t ask, don’t tell.”
God, does everybody make these stupid jokes?
“We will talk with Chief Kelly, Detective McGivens, and all the others. Perhaps we can convince them that it would not be in their best interest to hurt you or anyone in your family. Give me the list and we will start tonight.”
“Please, don’t kill…I’m sorry. I’m asking for a favor, I have no right to tell you how to do it.”
“We will be as gentle as they allow.”
“But can you get to them in jail?”
He smiled and patted her hand. “Don’t worry.”
Duh. How stupid. She knew the rumors about him controlling the jails. “Mille grazie, Signor. A thousand thanks. I can never repay you.”
“Prego. This is just a small installment on what I owe you. Sleep well. It will be done. Someone will call when there is something to tell you.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
The next morning Parker called John and Theresa to let them know that a limo would pick them up and take them to meet Gus and the kids. Then she joined Watkins in completing case reports. Corelli was tied up in meetings the entire day. By six o’clock Parker and Watkins were pacing. Boredom had set in.
“Did you hear that all the Righteous Partners members in jail decided to plead guilty so there won’t be any trials?” Watkins asked. “They’ve all been arrested. Corelli thinks the threat to her and Simone is gone but how can she be so sure? I’d think retribution would still be high on their list.”
“If she thinks it is,” Parker said, “I guess it is.”
“You’re right. She should know. Do you know how she got them to back off?”
Parker stared out the window, thinking about the Mafia boss. “Maybe, but I’m not sure. Anyway, it’s not my place to say.” She turned to Watkins. “Do you know why she went undercover?”
“I guess she felt it was the right thing. She’s willing to risk everything for what she believes, what she feels is right. Not many of us would take on something so dangerous.”
“Right. I didn’t know her before, but sometimes she seems a little out of control. Have you noticed?”
Watkins cleared his throat. “Has she ever mentioned Marnie to you?”
“Who’s Marnie?”
“Her partner. Not her work partner, her life partner of five years.”
“What about her?”
“They were together in Afghanistan. Marnie was blown up in front of Corelli. I think she’s still dealing with that.”
“Wow. Why didn’t anybody tell me that?”
“Not many people know.”
“But you do?”
“Yes, Marnie and I are old friends.”
He gazed out the window, ran his hands over his face and turned back to her. “I know Corelli’s been riding you pretty hard. How are you feeling about her?”
She thought for a while before responding. “She doesn’t let up, but I admire her strength. I don’t know how she worked under that pressure this week, waiting to hear if she was going to have to quit and if her family was going to be safe. I’ve learned a lot from her. Call me a masochist but I’d stay with her, if she still wants me now that she has you and other experienced detectives.”
“Speaking about wanting you, when are we going out?” He put his hand on her arm. “Let’s have dinner and then maybe you’ll come hear me play.”
She pulled her arm away. “I’m not interested, Watkins. It’s not a good idea to get close to co-workers.”
“We have a lot in common.”
“Like what?”
“We both come from well-to-do families, both educated in private schools and Yale, things like that.”
“How come we never ran into each other?”
“I didn’t grow up in Harlem. I was adopted by a white family and grew up on the Upper West Side.”
“Lucky you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what I said. You were lucky to be adopted by a wealthy family.”
“But secretly I wanted to be poor and black in Harlem.”
“I always felt out of place in Harlem and guilty for being so privileged. And the senator’s activism didn’t help,” Parker said, laughing for the first time. “So how did you end up a cop?”
“I’m conscious of the disparity between where fate dropped me and where I could have been. I want to help change things.”
“How did your parents feel about you being a cop?”
“They weren’t overjoyed, but they were supportive. They worried about the violence and about my associating with the wrong kind of people.” He smiled. “They never did say whether they meant other cops or the criminals. What about yours?”
“Obviously, the senator wasn’t too happy. He took it personally.”
“You refer to your dad as the senator?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?” Corelli said, striding into the room. When they didn’t answer, she went on. “You both can go home and get some rest. Be here at noon tomorrow for a wrap meeting.”
“I’ll wait to drive you,” Parker said.
“Winfry said he would drop me when we’re done, so go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Corelli unlocked the door to her apartment. She hadn’t realized how much tension she was carrying until earlier that day when Toricelli’s associate called and said in Italian that everything was taken care of and that Jimmy and all the others would be pleading guilty. Now she was exhausted but satisfied with the resolution of the case. Hopefully, her life would return to normal. Being back on the job was a good start. Parker was a good fit for her. And she was feeling more confident she could trust Parker.
The light on her answering machine was flashing. She would take care of it later. Her agenda for tonight was simple. A glass of wine to unwind, maybe a soak in a hot tub followed by a good book. Sometime after the glass of wine, she would listen to messages. She poured a glass of Malbec and switched on the TV out of habit. The news was replaying Kelly’s perp walk followed by some clips of her after the undercover operation became public. The anchor used that as the lead-in to U.S. Senator Aloysius T. Parker, better known as Senator Daddy, speaking at a press conference
. It took a few seconds to register that he was talking about her.
“Detective Chiara Corelli is as dirty as they come, and now she’s slandering Chief Aiden Kelly, a good cop who has worked hard to get drugs off the streets, just to make herself look good.” He stared at the camera and it felt as if he was looking into her eyes. “And she’s a racist in the bargain. Yesterday, when a rich white boy confessed to murdering his mother, she didn’t arrest him because she needed more proof. It turned out it was someone else, but we all know if the perpetrator had been a poor black kid from Harlem who said he murdered his mama, she wouldn’t have taken the time to be sure he actually did it. His sorry little black ass would be sitting in jail right now. He would be waiting to go to trial with a lawyer who couldn’t care less and would advise him to plead guilty and go to prison.”
Corelli felt as if she had been kicked in the gut. When he finished, she realized he hadn’t mentioned Parker. Had Parker betrayed her after all?
The phone rang. She hesitated, but picked it up.
“I’m sorry,” Parker said.
Corelli’s voice was harsh, the rage spilling out unfiltered. “Sorry for what? For whispering in Senator Daddy’s ear?” She slammed the phone down.
The phone rang again. Corelli debated with herself but picked it up. “Yes?”
“Despite what you imagine, I haven’t spoken to the senator in five years.”
Was she telling the truth? The only sound was their ragged breathing. “Does this mean you don’t want to work with me?” Parker sounded devastated.
“I don’t know what it means.” She hung up.
She stared at the phone. She’d begun to trust Parker. Was she so out of touch? She was too worn out to think clearly tonight.
The answering machine was still flashing. She wished she could ignore the messages, but it might be about the case. She took a deep breath. She needed to calm down before she did anything. She sipped her wine, kicked off her shoes, and rotated her shoulders forward and back to ease the tension. When she slipped her jacket off, her cell phone fell out of her pocket. She retrieved it and noticed a voice message from an unidentified number. She removed her holster and gun, then keyed in her password. The voice was soft and tentative.
“Detective Parker called earlier to tell me I’m no longer a suspect and that Connie was murdered by a cop involved in the group you exposed. It’s a shame. For all her money, Connie was a bitter, vicious, unhappy person. Oops, is that talking bad about the dead?” She paused, and when she spoke again she sounded pained. “Detective…Chiara, as I said, it’s been a long time since I had such an instant and vital connection with someone. I felt as if I could see into you, feel your soul, and I thought…I sensed you had the same experience. So I was hurt and angry that you could think I would kill someone. But this morning Detective Parker helped me realize that in your job you can’t take things on faith. You have to go on the facts you have.” Now there was a hint of a smile in her voice. “Please don’t laugh, but if you care, I want you to know that I forgive you.” Another long pause and she added, “I’m sure you’re still mourning Marnie. It takes time. But I’d still like to get together sometime just to talk. You know where to find me.”
She never said her name but Corelli reacted to her voice as if she were in the room. She saved the message and put down the phone, flushed and warm. She definitely needed time to think this through.
She grabbed the pad and pencil and pressed play on the answering machine.
“Hi sweetie, it’s Gianna. All of Bensonhurst is buzzing about you. All of a sudden you’re a hero instead of a weirdo. Oh, a little rhyme.” Corelli smiled. “Anyway, people who avoided you and would change the subject if your name came up, now are bragging about being related or knowing you. Marco and I have always known how wonderful you are, and now everybody else is catching up with us. The kids are bursting, so proud of their zia Chiara. Give me a call when you have a chance. Maybe I can invite everyone over to kiss your ring. Love you.”
When she heard Patrizia’s voice, she steeled herself. “Chiara, I don’t understand why you want to do that job, but I guess you’re good at it. The past couple of days everybody in the neighborhood has been talking about you. You’re a hero for saving that boy and catching that killer.” She paused and cleared her throat. “Joey and the kids are…Well, we’re all proud of you.”
Watch it Patrizia. You’re giving me a swelled head.
She grinned when she heard Simone’s voice. “What can I say? You’ve always been my hero. I’m always astounded by you, big sister. You don’t have to risk your life to impress me. Anyway, you’re hot in Bensonhurst this week. All my friends are dying to meet you. Call when you have a chance. Love you.”
The mechanical voice said, “That was your last message.”
Nothing from Papa. A proud and stubborn man. Maybe they would never reconcile, but it was time for her to move on, time to stop living her life in opposition to him.
She sat back and sipped her wine. It was clear to her now that she had been like him, believing everything was black or white. But her experiences in Iraq, Afghanistan, and working undercover forced her to recognize the complexities in people and life, to deal with the moral ambiguities, to confront her deepest fears, and do whatever was needed to survive and to protect her family.
She hoped she was more flexible now, but she’d lost the old clarity about what she believed, what she felt, and what she wanted. Well, maybe that wasn’t exactly true. Maybe she wasn’t sure she should believe what she believed, feel what she was feeling, or want what she wanted. Maybe, she needed to think about the walls she’d built to protect herself, walls that isolated her.
She smiled. Like it or not, her walls had already started to crumble. It was scary. Her heightened senses, surging feelings, and even her loneliness, made her feel out of control but more alive than ever. She knew she would never forget Marnie. She’d always love her. But it was Marnie who was dead, not her. Marnie would want her to live and love and be happy. She didn’t know what would happen with Brett Cummings. But she knew she didn’t have to choose between loving the dead and loving the living.
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