Chapter 3 - Locker 317
Vincent pressed one finger to his lips.
The apartment became silent.
Another knock.
"Elena?"
Khloe looked at her mother.
Elena shook her head.
Vincent moved beside the door.
Anthony positioned himself across the hallway opening.
"Who are you?" Vincent called.
A pause.
"Daniel Russo."
Khloe stared at Vincent.
Daniel.
The man who had been taken from the restaurant.
Vincent opened the door several inches.
Daniel stood outside.
His lip was split.
Blood marked his collar.
But he was alive.
"How did you find us?" Vincent asked.
"Salvatore."
Khloe pushed past Vincent.
"My father?"
Daniel looked at her.
"You're Khloe."
"Where is he?"
"We don't have time."
"Where is my father?"
Daniel's eyes softened.
"I don't know."
Khloe's hope collapsed almost as quickly as it had appeared.
"Then why did you say—"
"Because Salvatore Grace is the reason I've spent six years collecting evidence against Carlo Vescari."
Vincent lowered his gun.
Barely.
"You're working for Carlo."
Daniel laughed painfully.
"That's what Carlo thinks."
"What are you?"
"Alive, if we stop wasting time."
Daniel entered.
He placed a flash drive on the table.
"Carlo's people took me from the restaurant because someone warned them Vincent had ordered my death."
Khloe looked at Vincent.
Daniel continued.
"They wanted to know what I'd told you."
"Why would I believe you?"
"You shouldn't."
Daniel nodded toward the brass key.
"But you should believe whatever Salvatore left in locker 317."
Elena sank into a chair.
"Salvatore told me never to go there."
"Because he wanted Khloe to."
Khloe studied Daniel.
"You've met my father?"
"Not exactly."
"What does that mean?"
Daniel took out his phone.
He opened an encrypted messaging application.
The most recent message showed only a symbol.
A small bird.
Khloe's breath caught.
Her father's letter had called her my little bird.
"He started contacting me six years ago," Daniel said. "Anonymous tips. Documents. Names. Money transfers."
"How do you know it's him?"
"I don't."
Vincent paced.
"But you believed it enough to betray Carlo."
Daniel looked at him.
"Carlo murdered my brother."
Silence.
"He made it look like an overdose. I spent two years proving otherwise."
"And Salvatore helped."
"Someone calling himself S.G. did."
Khloe held the key.
"Then we open the locker."
Elena stood.
"No."
"Mom."
"You don't understand."
"No, because you've spent twenty years making sure I didn't."
The words hurt them both.
Elena looked away.
Khloe softened.
"I know you were protecting me."
"I was."
"But I'm not four anymore."
Elena's eyes filled.
"You're still my daughter."
"And he's still my father."
They left ten minutes later.
Elena remained with two of Vincent's trusted men.
Anthony drove.
Daniel sat in front.
Khloe and Vincent rode in the back.
Nobody spoke until they reached Grand Central Terminal.
Thousands of strangers moved through the station.
For Khloe, that felt safer than an empty street.
Vincent wore no bodyguards visibly.
Anthony followed twenty feet behind.
Daniel stayed near Khloe.
Locker 317 was in an older storage section scheduled for renovation.
Khloe inserted the key.
It didn't turn.
"Wrong locker?" Daniel whispered.
Khloe examined the lock.
Then remembered something.
Her father had taught her a silly rhyme when she was small.
Little bird, little bird, turn twice before you fly.
She turned the key left.
Then right.
Then left again.
Click.
The door opened.
Inside sat a metal box.
Nothing else.
Vincent lifted it out.
Khloe opened the lid.
A ledger.
Three cassette tapes.
An old photograph.
And a child's red mitten.
Khloe stopped breathing.
She remembered the mitten.
Not clearly.
But she remembered losing one somewhere.
She touched it.
A memory came back.
Her father's voice.
Stay with Mama, little bird.
Then shouting.
Then a car.
Khloe picked up the photograph.
Salvatore stood beside Elena.
Khloe was between them, perhaps three years old.
Behind the photograph someone had written:
THE ONLY THING WORTH SURVIVING FOR.
Khloe pressed it to her chest.
Vincent opened the ledger.
His face darkened.
"These are payments."
Daniel looked over his shoulder.
"To who?"
Vincent flipped pages.
"Police. Judges. Dock officials."
"Carlo?"
"Not only Carlo."
He stopped.
Anthony had arrived.
Vincent looked at him.
Then at the ledger.
"What?" Anthony asked.
Vincent closed it.
"Nothing."
Khloe noticed.
So did Daniel.
They carried the box into a quieter corridor.
Daniel inserted the first cassette into a tiny recorder stored inside.
Static crackled.
Then a man's voice.
Khloe gripped the edge of the bench.
She knew that voice.
Not because memory preserved it perfectly.
Because something inside her did.
Salvatore.
"If this recording is being heard, Carlo knows I survived."
Khloe covered her mouth.
Vincent closed his eyes.
Salvatore continued.
"The warehouse fire wasn't meant only for me. Vincent Moretti was the true target. Carlo needed both of us gone."
Vincent looked at Daniel.
"Carlo believed Vincent's death would trigger a war. While everyone fought, he'd take control."
Static.
"I found something worse."
The tape clicked.
Stopped.
Khloe stared.
"That's it?"
Daniel inserted the second cassette.
Salvatore's voice returned.
"Carlo wasn't acting alone. Someone close to Vincent gave him the warehouse location."
Vincent became motionless.
"Only four people knew where we were meeting."
Khloe glanced toward Anthony.
Anthony's expression remained unreadable.
Salvatore began listing names.
"Me. Vincent. Carlo."
A pause.
"And Anthony Luca."
The tape stopped.
Nobody breathed.
Khloe looked at Anthony.
His face had changed.
Vincent's voice was barely audible.
"Tell me that's wrong."
Anthony slowly reached inside his jacket.
Daniel moved first.
But Anthony didn't draw a gun.
He pulled out a photograph.
He handed it to Vincent.
"I've been waiting twenty years for you to hear that tape."
Vincent stared at him.
"You knew?"
"I knew Salvatore suspected me."
"Did you betray us?"
"No."
"Then who did?"
Anthony pointed to the ledger.
"Play the third tape."
Khloe pressed play.
Static.
Salvatore sounded weaker.
"If Anthony is hearing this, I'm sorry."
Anthony closed his eyes.
"The fourth person was someone I didn't know about that night."
Vincent leaned closer.
"Someone Vincent trusted more than Anthony."
The tape crackled.
Then Salvatore said:
"His father."
Vincent's face emptied.
Khloe stared at him.
Vincent Moretti Sr. had supposedly died fifteen years earlier.
"No," Vincent whispered.
Salvatore continued.
"Vittorio Moretti gave Carlo the location."
The recording stopped.
Vincent sat down.
For perhaps the first time in his adult life, he looked old.
"My father tried to kill me."
Anthony nodded.
"I discovered it after he died."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I couldn't prove it."
Daniel opened the ledger.
"Now we can."
Khloe looked at the final pages.
A name appeared repeatedly beside large payments.
V. MORETTI.
Vincent's father.
Then another.
C. VESCARI.
And beneath both names, a third set of initials.
S.G.
Khloe stared.
"My father took money?"
"No," Daniel said.
"Look at the column."
The payments beside Salvatore's initials were outgoing.
He wasn't receiving money.
He was moving it somewhere.
"Where?"
Daniel traced the account number.
"Federal escrow."
Vincent looked up.
"Salvatore was cooperating with the government."
Khloe's entire understanding of her father shifted again.
He hadn't merely been an accountant.
He had been collecting evidence.
He had tried to bring them down.
Including Vincent's family.
Khloe whispered, "That's why he disappeared."
Daniel nodded.
"If Carlo discovered Salvatore survived, every person connected to him would've been targeted."
A station announcement echoed overhead.
Khloe suddenly noticed something strange.
Anthony wasn't listening.
He was watching the crowd.
"Vincent."
His tone changed.
Vincent stood.
"What?"
"We're being followed."
Three men had entered the corridor.
Daniel recognized one.
"Carlo's."
Vincent grabbed the metal box.
"Move."
They headed toward the main concourse.
The men followed.
No running.
Too many civilians.
Vincent guided Khloe through the crowd.
"Stay beside me."
"Where's Daniel?"
"Behind us."
They reached the main hall.
Khloe looked back.
Daniel was gone.
"Vincent."
"I know."
Anthony scanned the crowd.
Then Khloe's phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
One message.
DON'T LEAVE THE STATION.
Another arrived.
GO TO TRACK 24.
Khloe showed Vincent.
"Trap," Anthony said.
Then a third message appeared.
Khloe's knees almost failed.
It contained a photograph taken seconds earlier.
Khloe standing beside Vincent in Grand Central.
Someone was watching them right now.
Beneath it were six words.
LITTLE BIRD, PLEASE TRUST ME ONCE.
Khloe looked toward Track 24.
A man in a gray coat stood at the entrance.
His face was older.
His hair almost entirely silver.
But around his neck hung the other half of the chain attached to Khloe's medal.
May you like
The man slowly raised his eyes.
And Khloe recognized her father's smile.
