by Allan, Dale
“I’m sorry, but none of them knew anything about construction companies run by Muslims. I didn’t want to ask too many questions.”
“That’s a good idea. Don’t ask anyone else about it. I think we have enough information.”
“What are we going to do next?” she asked.
“Well, let’s see if the FBI visits you. I’m going to find out who owned Corner Stone Builders.”
“How are you going to do that?”
Not wanting to tell her about Lori, he answered obscurely, “From the same person who told me about the building permits.”
They finished their coffees and stood to leave, when Jami reminded Luke, “Please call me if I can help you in any way. Remember, I’ll do anything to find the people who killed my sister.” Luke promised to stay in touch, and they said their good-byes.
When Luke arrived back home, he hurried into the house to find Deb and Lori. Not seeing anyone, he went downstairs to the gym. They were both jogging on treadmills, and Lori’s hair was now brown, like Deborah’s. “Nice hair,” Luke commented as he walked into the room. Lori fluffed it and smiled, saying, “Thank you.” Deb waved, not wanting to talk because she was conserving her breath. Thinking this was a good time to ask for a favor, Luke spoke above the noise. “Hey, Lori, would you mind if I sent another e-mail to Richard’s assistant? I need one more piece of information.” She nodded and gave a thumbs-up.
After composing and sending the e-mail, Luke sat and thought about what to do next. When his cell phone rang, he looked at the display and saw that it was John. It was almost noon, and he wondered why John hadn’t called earlier. “Well good afternoon,” he said in a jovial tone. John ignored his remark and said, “Luke, I hate to have to tell you this, but Blade is dead.”
Luke was horrified. He immediately headed out the door toward his car. “Where are you right now?”
“Still at the Common.”
When Luke began asking questions, John said, “Can we talk when you get here? I don’t want to say too much on the phone.”
Luke sped to the Common, parked on the street, and ran at full speed toward the fountain. Seeing John forlornly sitting on a bench, he squatted in front of him and cried, “What happened? Was it alcohol?” John was still in shock as he stared straight ahead. Ignoring Luke’s questions, he said, “It’s my fault. I’m the one who set this whole thing up, and he would still be alive if it wasn’t for me.”
Luke thought for a minute and said, “If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I gave him the money.”
“It wasn’t alcohol.”
Puzzled, Luke asked, “What was it, then?”
John turned to face Luke. “Drugs.”
Not believing what he was hearing, Luke asked, “Drugs? Are you sure?”
“One of the guys who saw him said that the needle was still sticking out of his arm when they found him.”
“I thought you said he didn’t do drugs.”
“He didn’t.”
Luke thought back to the day when they had found Blade drunk. He had searched his entire body for needle marks but had seen none. He also remembered John’s insistence that he wasn’t a druggie.
“Where did they take the body?”
“I would assume he’s at the morgue.”
Luke took the prepaid cell phone from John and called Detective Romo, who agreed to meet them.
THE RECEPTIONIST AT THE morgue recognized Luke and said, “Go right in. The detective is already waiting.” Noticing that John wasn’t following, Luke turned, and John said, “I’ll just wait here, if that’s OK.” As he followed the receptionist into the big concrete room, he felt the temperature plunge and saw Detective Romo standing next to a rolling table that held Blade’s lifeless body. He was talking to a man in a white coat, but Luke couldn’t hear what he was saying.
When they noticed Luke, the detective turned and shook his hand. Then he introduced Adam Owen, the medical examiner. Luke stared at the bluish color of the body. It was hard to believe that he had just had dinner with this man a few days ago; now he was dead. Detective Romo said, “Luke, when we spoke on the phone, I didn’t know that we were talking about Franklyn Hennessey.”
Astonished, Luke asked, “You know him?”
“Yes, but I didn’t know they called him Blade.”
“How do you know him?”
The detective placed his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “I’ve arrested him at least half a dozen times.”
“For what?”
“Disorderly conduct, identity theft, possession of stolen goods, selling drugs, and probably a few other things I can’t remember right now. He was a great con man who could make you believe almost anything. One time he tried to convince me that the stolen television he was trying to sell on the street was his mother’s. And I almost believed him until we figured out that his mother had died over twenty years ago, long before they began making flat screens. Once, I sent him to jail for a year.”
Luke was shocked at what he was hearing and asked, “So you wouldn’t believe anything he said?”
Romo laughed. “I wouldn’t believe a word he said.”
Turning to the medical examiner, Luke asked, “How did he die?”
The man looked at Detective Romo, who nodded, giving him permission to answer. “It was a drug overdose. The needle was still stuck in his left arm when he was brought here. From what I can tell it contained almost pure heroin, sometimes referred to as black tar because of its color and purity, usually imported from Mexico or Asia. It’s not uncommon to find victims with the needles still in them because it kills so quickly. He also smelled like alcohol.”
Based on Romo’s predetermined opinion of Blade, Luke decided to keep his mouth shut. He listened for several minutes as the detective and medical examiner talked about Blade as if he never existed. Their minds were made up: A homeless guy kills himself with drugs in the Common; just another day in the city of Boston.
As Luke walked to the door and said good-bye to the detective, John pulled Luke aside and whispered, “I would like to go see Blade to tell him I’m sorry.”
Luke put his arm around the heartbroken man and asked, “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. It’s the least I can do.”
Walking back into the room, Luke explained to the examiner that John was a friend of Blade’s. Understanding, the doctor said, “Take as much time as you want.”
John approached the body slowly. After looking at Blade for several seconds, he fell to his knees and prayed. Luke extended his arms out to his sides and said a prayer. Before they walked out, Luke asked the doctor one last question. “Did you find anything else when you examined the body?”
Curious, the man asked, “Like what?”
“Bruises or any signs that he was beaten up or restrained.”
“Restrained? From what I can tell he was so drunk that I doubt he could have stood on his own. There was a mark on his head, probably from when he hit the ground.”
When they reached the door, the examiner said, “Well, now that you mention it, there was one thing I couldn’t figure out.”
Luke and John walked back to the table. “What was that?”
He pulled the sheet off, exposing Blade’s naked body. Moving to the other side of the table, he said, “Take a look at this.”
They followed him and were speechless.
The examiner continued, “I don’t know what the hell this is, but it seems to be self-inflicted. There was a hole in his pants pocket, and his own skin was under his fingernails.”
Luke looked meaningfully at John and shook his head slightly to indicate that he shouldn’t say anything.
Again, they thanked the examiner and walked out the door.
Reaching the street, Luke told John, “Not here. Meet me at the house.”
LUKE RACED TO THE house with John following closely. After passing through the gates, they jumped out of their vehicles and Luke said, “This way.” Side by side, they walked around the house t
o the backyard. Luke slowed his pace, and John said, “Did you see that mark on his leg?”
Luke looked at him, wanting to confirm what he was thinking, and said, “What do you think it was from?”
John answered abruptly. “You know damn well what it was. It was a sign, a clue. I told you he didn’t do drugs. He was trying to tell us something.”
Quickly, piecing everything together, Luke said, “OK, here’s what I’m thinking. Someone from one of the mosques or the governor’s office is worried that I’m getting close to figuring out who was responsible for the bombing. Trying to determine how I’ve gotten this far, they remembered the Thanksgiving picture in the newspaper and its mention of the homeless people from the Common, and they saw Blade’s face in the background. It was easy to identify him because of his scar. They sent someone to the park to find him. He was probably drunk when they held him down and put the needle in his left arm, not knowing that he was left-handed. Realizing what was happening, Blade poked a hole in his pants pocket with his right hand and carved the crescent in his leg with his fingernail to leave us a clue.”
Luke added, “Unless maybe all of this is just a coincidence and, like the detective said, Blade was a really good liar.”
Ignoring Luke’s last statement, John moved his arms and mimicked shooting up with a needle. “How do you know he was left-handed?”
Luke replied, “Don’t you remember what Deb said to him at the dinner table? She said, ‘You’re left-handed like me.’”
Now understanding, John said, “Yeah, he would have shot himself in the right arm, not the left.”
Luke nodded.
John asked nervously, “What do we do now?”
“Well, the first thing we do is convince Deborah that she and the children need to go out of town for a few weeks, without telling them too many details.”
“How?”
“Every year around Christmas, Aaron would take the family skiing for a few weeks in the Berkshires. I think he owns another house in the mountains up there. We need to persuade Deborah that she should go; maybe she can take Lori with her.” He continued, “Next, we need to make sure you’re safe. Unless you’ve been followed over the past few days, no one would ever suspect that you’ve been sleeping in the office building. Thankfully, your picture wasn’t in the paper with Blade’s, and with the way you’re currently dressed, no one would ever suspect that you also had lived in the park. But from now on, you need to be extra careful.”
Concerned, John asked, “And what about you? You’re probably in more danger than anyone.”
Luke had also thought about his own safety. He wondered if the bombers would risk killing him, too. The amount of publicity associated with murdering Aaron’s brother, and a priest at that, would be enormous. But they’d already killed a presidential nominee, so obviously they weren’t concerned about publicity.
“I think that once Deb goes to the mountain house, I’ll go live on Aaron’s boat.”
“He has a boat?”
Trying to ease the tension a bit, Luke smiled halfheartedly and said, “No, he has a yacht.”
The two men continued to finalize their plans going forward, including Luke’s desire to pay for Blade’s funeral. Realizing that he needed to check his e-mail to see if Dick’s assistant had sent the name of the owner of the construction company that built the mosques, Luke told John that he would see him at dinner. As John walked toward his truck, Luke had another idea. “Hey, John, hold on a second.” He caught up to John in the driveway. “What about Star?”
John thought for a minute and replied, “Do you think she saw something?”
“I guess we’ll never know unless we find her. Do you think she would talk to you?”
“I really don’t know. Either she’ll think I had something to do with Blade’s murder, or she’ll consider me a friend. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”
Worried that John might be putting himself in danger if he went back to the park, Luke questioned, “Do you think it’s worth the risk?”
“I’m going to stop by the Common on my way to Aaron’s office. I’m not going to talk to anyone unless I see her. I promise to be careful.”
“Are you sure?”
“I think I owe it to Blade, and I’d like to make sure that Star is safe.”
Luke made him promise to call as soon as he left the park. As the truck pulled out of the driveway, Luke hurried inside and logged on to the computer.
THE E-MAIL FROM LT. Governor Simpson’s assistant was short and sweet, with only two words: “Vincent Russo.” Clearing the e-mail screen, Luke began typing frantically. The name search showed that there were more than two million matches. Using quotation marks to find an exact match, he added, “Corner Stone Builders.” Now there were only eleven results returned.
Clicking on the first listing displayed, he noticed that all of the articles were from newspapers. The first headline was chilling: “Local Businessman and Wife Killed in Hit and Run.” The details of the tragic accident saddened him. Vincent Russo was a well-respected member of his community who did a lot of charity work. His wife volunteered at the local hospital and neighborhood Catholic church. The last paragraph said that they were survived by three children: Vincent, Trinity, and Faith. Looking for the date, he saw that the accident had occurred years ago, in 2001.
Already knowing that Vincent didn’t bring up many results, Luke decided to look up Trinity, since it was an unusual name. The results for “Trinity Russo” displayed only one exact match. It was a local newspaper article about a beautification project in the town of Greenwich, Connecticut. She was listed as one of a group of wealthy locals who banded together in an attempt to spruce up Greenwich Avenue by replacing the light poles and planting trees and flowers.
Next, Luke searched for “Faith Russo,” and although he found a few pages of results, none of them appeared to be related to Vincent. At this point, Luke began to question Blade’s story even more. How could a successful Italian immigrant who donated a tremendous amount of time to charity with a wife who volunteered at the local hospital and church be connected to the bombing in Boston? He was obviously a Christian and not a Muslim; his girls were named Trinity and Faith.
Luke decided that he would drive to Greenwich in the morning and ask around. While he thought about what to do next, his cell phone rang.
“Hi, Jim, how are you?”
After a few pleasantries, Hathaway got to the point. “Regarding John Daly’s foreclosed house, I have the numbers from the bank of what it would take to reclaim it.”
“Great, what are they?”
“Well, they want twenty-three thousand dollars in back payments and interest. And because he hasn’t had a job in such a long time, they also want a cosigner for the loan.”
Luke asked, “What’s the total amount that he owes?”
After shuffling papers for a second, Jim answered, “About a hundred fifty thousand.”
Realizing that he could easily pay off the entire amount himself, if anything happened to John, Luke said, “Let’s do it.”
Jim agreed to move forward with the bank and keep Luke informed. After thanking Jim, he joined the others in the family room.
When the nanny led the children out of the room for their afternoon nap, Luke took the opportunity to talk to Deb and Lori about going to the mountain house. He told them he was worried about their safety and that he would feel better if they were out of town for a few weeks. They finally agreed, and Deb said, “It might be fun to get away, after all.” They decided to give all of the employees time off with pay, while leaving a single security guard stationed at the front gate.
When Luke realized that he hadn’t heard from John for over an hour, he dialed his number.
“Hi, Luke, I was just about to call you.”
“Are you OK?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just finished my second lap around the park. No sign of Star.”
Disappointed, Luke thanked him. Before hanging up, h
e asked for another favor. “John, when you get to Aaron’s office, can you please ask Margaret to call a local funeral home so we can get Blade buried as soon as possible? Just make sure it’s not tomorrow. I’ll be out of town for the day.”
When John questioned where Luke was going, he told him that he would explain everything after dinner that night.
Back on the computer, Luke carefully planned his trip to Greenwich. Mapping it out, he realized that the drive would take him a little over three hours. Thinking about the best way to find Trinity Russo, he found the addresses of all the local Catholic churches, the Greenwich Historical Society, and the Greenwich Architectural Review Committee. He thought about calling ahead of time, but he knew that people were suspicious of giving out information over the phone. He also knew that if they saw he was a priest, he might be able to get more information.
At dinner, there was an undeniable tension in the air. Deborah had already told the staff that they would be on a paid vacation until after Christmas, so they were excited, but everyone else had one thing on their minds: Was Luke going to figure out who killed Aaron? And in doing so, was he putting himself and his family at risk?
While the table was being cleared, Luke motioned to John to follow him outside. As they walked around the house in the bone-chilling air, Luke explained why he was traveling to Greenwich in the morning. He told John that he would be leaving at five in the morning and planned on being home by dark. They agreed to call each other throughout the day.
After John drove away, Luke walked back into the house and saw Deb and Lori carrying suitcases up from the basement. Hastening to help them, he patiently waited until they were packed, and then he made several trips to load the luggage into Deb’s SUV.
THE NEXT MORNING, IT was still dark outside when Luke walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before getting in the car. When he closed the refrigerator and turned, he was startled to see Deborah standing in the hallway. He asked, “Is everything all right?”