Chapter 35 - Dinner With the Ghost
Vincent Salerno arrived at seven sharp.
No bodyguards.
No visible weapon.
No hesitation.
He walked into Elena’s Westchester home wearing a dark three-piece suit and carrying a bottle of wine as though he were attending an ordinary dinner party.
Gino searched him personally.
Vincent seemed amused.
“You were Moretti’s driver.”
Gino’s expression never changed.
“And you were supposed to be dead.”
Vincent smiled.
“We’ve both improved our circumstances.”
Inside the dining room, Elena waited with Dante, Carol, and Paul.
Daniel was miles away at the sanctuary under heavy protection.
Vincent glanced around.
“Beautiful home.”
“You didn’t come to discuss architecture,” Elena said.
“No.”
He sat.
Nobody touched the food.
Vincent placed a leather folder on the table.
“The original settlement agreement.”
Carol reached for it.
Vincent rested his hand on top.
“After we talk.”
Dante’s voice was cold.
“You have five minutes.”
Vincent looked delighted.
“There he is.”
“Four minutes fifty-five.”
Vincent turned toward Elena.
“I knew your husband when he was nineteen.”
“I’m sorry.”
Paul almost laughed.
Vincent did.
“Matteo desperately wanted respect. Unfortunately, he confused fear with respect.”
“We agree on something.”
“He also believed wealth made him intelligent.”
Elena leaned back.
“What do you want?”
Vincent’s smile faded.
“The foundation.”
Silence.
“Excuse me?”
“I want control of three properties transferred from Moretti forfeiture holdings. Manhattan, Queens, and Jersey City.”
“They house survivors.”
“They sit on land worth approximately two hundred and forty million dollars.”
“They’re not for sale.”
“I’m not asking you to sell.”
“Then we’re finished.”
Vincent slid the folder toward her.
“Without this document, my civil case could freeze dozens of your accounts while ownership is litigated.”
Carol interrupted.
“You’ll lose eventually.”
“Eventually can be expensive.”
Elena stared at him.
“You’re willing to displace abused women and children to settle an old grudge with Dante.”
Vincent looked at Dante.
“I spent twenty-eight years watching the world forget my name while his became respectable.”
Dante replied quietly.
“You disappeared because you were afraid of prison.”
Vincent’s face tightened.
Dante continued.
“You can call it exile. Strategy. Survival. You ran.”
Vincent stood.
Paul instinctively moved.
Elena raised a hand.
“No.”
She looked at Vincent.
“You made a mistake coming here.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You think because your cameras recorded this conversation you’ve trapped me?”
“No.”
Elena smiled.
“I think you told me exactly what I needed.”
She picked up a small remote and turned on the television.
Andrew Vale appeared on screen.
Live.
Sitting inside Carol Hartwell’s Manhattan office.
Beside him stood two federal investigators.
Vincent’s face changed.
“What is this?”
Carol folded her hands.
“Mr. Vale contacted my office yesterday.”
Vincent slowly looked at her.
“He has apparently decided representing a client engaged in witness intimidation and evidence theft violates his professional ambitions.”
Vale spoke through the screen.
“Vincent, I gave them everything.”
For the first time, the legendary Banker of Brooklyn looked old.
Dante almost smiled.
Vale continued.
“Emails. Payment instructions. The investigator in Philadelphia. The break-in order. Everything.”
Vincent slammed both hands on the table.
“You miserable coward!”
“Careful,” Carol said. “You’re being recorded.”
Vincent turned toward Elena.
“You planned this.”
“You assumed everyone around you could be bought.”
Elena stood.
“My husband believed the same thing.”
Sirens sounded outside.
Vincent looked toward the windows.
Federal vehicles entered the driveway.
Yet he smiled.
“You think this ends anything?”
“It ends tonight.”
“No, Elena.”
His voice lowered.
“You have no idea what Matteo hid.”
Dante stepped closer.
“What does that mean?”
Vincent laughed softly.
“Ask his son.”
Elena went completely still.
“My son is five.”
Vincent’s smile widened.
“I wasn’t talking about Daniel.”
Red and blue lights washed across the windows.
Federal agents entered.
Vincent offered no resistance.
But as he was escorted away, Elena remained frozen beside the table.
Dante stared at the closed door.
Paul whispered what everyone was thinking.
“Matteo had another son?”
Carol looked sick.
“I never found any record.”
Elena slowly turned toward them.
May you like
“Then we start looking.”
Because suddenly the dead Moretti empire had produced another heir.
