Chapter 4 - What Was Buried With Daniel Keene
Holy Cross Cemetery was nearly empty at two in the morning.
Dominic Rizzo waited beside a dark sedan.
He was fifty, broad, gray at the temples, and furious.
When Roman stepped out of Elise's car, Dominic stared at the bandages.
“You look terrible.”
“You always know what to say.”
Dominic hugged him carefully.
Then his gaze shifted to Elise.
“Who is this?”
“Elise Keene.”
Dominic went pale.
Roman noticed.
“You know that name too?”
Dominic's mouth opened.
Margaret got out of the car.
“Dominic.”
He whispered, “Margaret.”
Roman's patience disappeared.
“Apparently I'm the last man in Philadelphia to know everyone.”
Dominic looked at Margaret.
“You never told him?”
“Told me what?”
Margaret said, “We don't have time.”
Roman stepped between them.
“Make time.”
Dominic looked toward Noah in the car.
Then back to Roman.
“Daniel Keene saved my life.”
Roman stopped.
“Explain.”
“Seventeen years ago, I was driving Anthony the night he met Daniel.”
Roman's face changed.
“You were there?”
“Outside.”
“You told my father Anthony went alone.”
“I lied.”
Roman grabbed Dominic's coat.
“You watched my brother get blamed for murder and you lied?”
Dominic didn't resist.
“Your father said Anthony had betrayed the family. Anyone defending him would go down with him.”
Roman's fist tightened.
“And you chose yourself.”
“Yes.”
The answer was immediate.
No excuse.
Dominic's eyes were wet.
“I've lived with it every day.”
Roman released him.
“Then start being useful.”
Margaret led them toward Daniel Keene's grave.
Elise carried a flashlight.
Noah stayed in the locked car ten yards away, watching.
Margaret knelt beside the headstone.
“Left side. About six inches down.”
Dominic began digging.
Roman sat against a nearby stone, pale from blood loss.
Elise crouched next to him.
“You need a hospital.”
“Later.”
“You keep saying later like your circulatory system signed a contract.”
Roman looked at her.
“Do you always talk this much?”
“Only when patients are being stupid.”
Dominic's shovel hit metal.
Everyone turned.
He pulled out a small rust-stained lockbox wrapped in plastic.
Margaret's hands shook.
“That's it.”
Dominic opened it.
Inside was a cassette tape.
And a folded envelope.
Margaret frowned.
“I didn't put that envelope there.”
Roman looked at Dominic.
Dominic shook his head.
Elise opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Daniel Keene.
Anthony Marcelli.
And Carter Voss.
Standing beside Container 47 at the Delaware docks.
On the back, handwriting:
IF CARTER MAKES HIS MOVE, CHECK 47-B. — ANTHONY
Roman stared at his brother's handwriting.
His voice dropped.
“He knew.”
Dominic said, “Anthony told me he had a backup.”
Roman looked at him.
“You knew that too?”
“No. I thought he was bluffing.”
Elise held up the tape.
“How do we play this?”
Margaret said, “The bakery office still has an old cassette player.”
Roman shook his head.
“We don't go back.”
Dominic opened his car.
“I have one.”
Everyone stared at him.
“What?” Dominic said. “My granddaughter likes old music.”
They sat inside the sedan.
Dominic inserted the tape.
Static.
Then Daniel's voice.
“Say it again.”
Another man spoke.
Anthony.
“You're moving product through our warehouses without authorization.”
Carter's younger voice came next.
“You two have no idea what you're talking about.”
Daniel said, “We have manifests.”
Carter laughed.
“You have paperwork.”
Anthony: “And Container 47.”
Silence.
Then Carter said quietly:
“You should have left this alone.”
Daniel replied, “Your father knows?”
“No.”
A pause.
“My father thinks the Marcellis are gods. I'm going to prove they're just men.”
Anthony said, “You're done, Carter.”
Then a gunshot.
Margaret covered her mouth.
Another shot.
Chaos.
Anthony shouting.
Daniel gasping.
And Carter's voice—
“You killed him, Anthony.”
Anthony shouted, “You shot him!”
Carter laughed.
Then the recording ended.
Roman sat absolutely still.
Dominic whispered, “Jesus.”
Elise had tears on her face but wiped them away quickly.
“That voice is enough.”
Roman shook his head.
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“He'll call it fake.”
“We can authenticate it.”
“Eventually.”
Roman looked at the photograph.
“Container 47.”
Dominic frowned.
“That container yard was demolished years ago.”
“Not the records.”
Roman took out Elise's phone and called a number from memory.
A woman answered sleepily.
“Hello?”
“Lena.”
Silence.
“Roman?”
Lena Marcelli was Roman's younger sister.
“You're alive.”
“For now.”
She began crying.
“Roman, Carter said—”
“I know what Carter said. I need you calm.”
“What happened?”
“I'll explain later. Find everything on Warehouse 47-B. Historical inventory, property transfers, maintenance reports.”
“At two in the morning?”
“Yes.”
“You really are alive.”
Roman smiled faintly.
“Lena.”
“I'm doing it.”
Ten minutes later, documents arrived.
Lena called back.
“There is something strange.”
“What?”
“47-B wasn't demolished.”
Roman sat forward.
“Explain.”
“It was sealed into a larger refrigeration facility after the renovation.”
“Who owns it now?”
A pause.
“Voss Maritime Holdings.”
Dominic swore.
Elise looked at Roman.
“What would still be inside after seventeen years?”
Roman's expression turned cold.
“Whatever Carter was willing to kill two men to protect.”
From the front seat, Margaret whispered:
May you like
“And whatever he's willing to kill you for tonight.”
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