Chapter 4 - The Name on the Birth Certificate
Vincent did not open the door.
Instead, he looked at Elena.
“Whose name?”
She remained frozen.
Outside, Blackwell rang again.
Vincent ignored it.
“Elena.”
“I can explain.”
“I've heard that sentence enough tonight.”
She swallowed.
“Your name.”
Vincent stared at her.
“What?”
“When Lily was born, Anthony was already dead.”
“That doesn't explain why I'm listed as her father.”
“He planned it.”
“Anthony put my name on his child's birth certificate?”
“He believed he was going to die.”
Vincent stepped backward.
Everything suddenly made terrible sense.
Not biological father.
Legal father.
Lily's identity had been deliberately connected to Vincent.
Why?
Salvatore asked the question.
“What did Anthony gain by naming Vincent?”
Elena answered slowly.
“Protection.”
Vincent laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“Protection from a man who didn't know she existed.”
“Anthony believed that if anyone discovered Lily, your name would make them hesitate.”
“Did it?”
Elena looked down.
“For eight years.”
The bell rang again.
Blackwell's voice came through the door.
“Vincent, we don't have much time.”
Vincent called back.
“You've had fifteen years.”
Blackwell answered, “And that's why your brother is dead.”
Silence.
Vincent opened the inner security monitor instead of the door.
Blackwell stood alone.
No visible weapon.
Vincent pressed the intercom.
“Put the folder down.”
Blackwell did.
“Step back.”
He stepped back.
Marco retrieved the folder through the side entrance.
Vincent opened it.
Inside were photographs.
Anthony.
Elena.
Daniel.
Hale.
And Lily.
Dozens of images taken over eight years.
Someone had monitored the child since infancy.
Then Vincent found one photograph that made his stomach tighten.
Lily at age four.
Holding hands with Judge Blackwell.
Elena saw it.
“That was you?”
Blackwell's voice came through the intercom.
“Yes.”
Vincent looked at the camera.
“You knew where she was.”
“I helped keep her hidden.”
“Then why did Daniel find her?”
“Because somebody inside my operation betrayed me.”
“Who?”
“Hale.”
Vincent glanced at Elena.
“Hale helped us tonight.”
Blackwell gave a bitter laugh.
“Hale helps whichever side keeps him alive.”
Vincent still did not open the door.
“Tell me about Anthony.”
Blackwell's expression changed.
“Your brother discovered something your father missed.”
“What?”
“Your father thought he built an organization.”
Vincent waited.
“He actually inherited one.”
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
Blackwell continued.
“Long before Moretti money touched Chicago politics, there was a network of contractors, police officers, judges and businessmen controlling city contracts. Your father didn't create it. He simply became useful to it.”
“Who ran it?”
“Nobody knew.”
“That's not an answer.”
“It's the only answer Anthony found.”
Blackwell looked toward the house.
“But he discovered one rule: every leader was replaceable.”
Vincent thought of his father.
Anthony.
Hale.
Daniel.
“And Anthony?”
“He found proof that someone planned to remove your father and install you.”
Vincent felt cold.
“Install me?”
“You becoming head of the Moretti organization wasn't accidental.”
Salvatore looked stunned.
Vincent remembered the months following his father's death.
Deals had fallen into place almost too easily.
Enemies had disappeared.
Police pressure decreased.
Men who resisted Vincent suddenly cooperated.
He had believed it was fear.
What if it had been preparation?
Vincent pressed the intercom.
“Why me?”
Blackwell answered:
“Because you were predictable.”
Vincent almost smiled.
“I've been called many things.”
“You protect your family. You honor debts. You don't hurt civilians. You avoid narcotics and trafficking. That made you easier to control than your father.”
Vincent's voice hardened.
“Apparently not easy enough.”
“No.”
Blackwell looked almost proud.
“That became the problem.”
Elena approached the monitor.
“What does Lily have to do with this?”
Blackwell's expression darkened.
“Anthony hid the final access code with her.”
Elena recoiled.
“What?”
Vincent turned.
“The locket.”
Blackwell nodded.
“Not the phone number.”
Vincent opened the locket again.
He removed the photo.
Phone number.
Old restaurant number.
Nothing else.
Then Lily entered the kitchen.
She had awakened.
“What are you doing with my necklace?”
Vincent crouched.
“Can I look at it?”
She nodded.
“My daddy gave it to Mama.”
“Did your mother ever take it apart?”
Lily looked toward Elena.
Then shook her head.
Vincent examined the metal edge.
Four tiny scratches.
11-19.
The same numbers he had noticed in Lily's photograph.
He pressed his thumbnail against the seam.
A hidden compartment opened.
Inside was a micro-SD card.
Salvatore whispered, “Jesus.”
Lily looked fascinated.
“Was that always there?”
Vincent nodded slowly.
Elena began crying.
“Anthony.”
Vincent inserted the card into an offline laptop.
One file.
A video.
Dated three days before Anthony died.
Vincent clicked play.
His brother appeared on screen.
Nine years younger.
Nervous.
Looking over his shoulder.
“If you're seeing this,” Anthony said, “then I probably didn't get out.”
Vincent could not move.
Anthony continued.
“Elena, I'm sorry. Vincent, I'm even more sorry because you're probably wondering why I didn't trust you.”
Vincent's throat tightened.
Anthony smiled sadly.
“I did.”
The screen flickered.
“I trusted you more than anyone. That's why I couldn't tell you. If you knew, you'd come after them. And if you came after them before we knew who they were, they'd kill you too.”
Vincent looked away for one second.
Then back.
Anthony continued.
“The Ledger isn't evidence of crimes. It's evidence of ownership. Every judge, detective, company and politician in it was bought by the same source.”
He held up a document.
“The network calls itself Meridian.”
Blackwell closed his eyes outside.
Anthony said:
“And I found the person currently controlling it.”
The video glitched.
Vincent leaned closer.
Anthony opened his mouth.
Static.
The laptop screen went black.
“Power,” Salvatore said.
All lights inside the house died.
Lily screamed.
Vincent pulled her close.
Emergency lighting activated.
Marco shouted from the hallway.
“Movement outside!”
Vincent looked at the monitor.
Blackwell was no longer at the front door.
The sedan remained.
Vincent grabbed the laptop.
“Where did he go?”
Salvatore looked through the side window.
“No idea.”
A knock came from the back door.
Three slow knocks.
Then Blackwell's voice:
“Vincent.”
Vincent approached carefully.
Blackwell stood outside, hands raised.
Blood ran down one side of his face.
Vincent opened the door enough to pull him inside.
“What happened?”
Blackwell locked the door behind him.
“They're here.”
“Who?”
Blackwell looked at Lily.
Then at Elena.
“Meridian.”
Vincent said, “Who runs it?”
Blackwell shook his head.
“No time.”
A phone began ringing.
Not Vincent's.
Not Elena's.
Lily's.
Everyone stared at the small device sitting on the kitchen table.
The screen showed no number.
Lily whispered:
“That isn't my ringtone.”
Vincent answered without speaking.
A man's voice came through the speaker.
Calm.
Familiar.
“Hello, son.”
May you like
Vincent went perfectly still.
His father had been dead for eleven years.
