Chapter 4 - The Key Beneath the Counter
We returned to Marlowe’s just before dawn.
The lights were still on, but the diner was empty.
No customers.
No Hector.
A chair lay on its side near the entrance.
I rushed inside.
“Hector?”
Luca caught my arm.
“Slow down.”
“He could be hurt.”
“That is why you slow down.”
Gabriel entered first, sweeping the room with his weapon.
A voice came from the kitchen.
“Maya?”
Hector stepped out with a bruise on his cheek and a broken broomstick in his hand.
I crossed the diner and hugged him.
He stiffened in surprise.
“You’re alive,” I said.
“Unfortunately.”
“What happened?”
“Bellini’s men came back. Asked where you took him.”
“What did you say?”
“That I don’t speak English.”
“You were born in Queens.”
“They didn’t know that.”
Luca approached.
“Why did they leave you alive?”
Hector looked at him with open dislike.
“They want her to retrieve something. They said they’ll be watching.”
“They are,” Gabriel said, glancing toward the windows.
I went behind the counter and knelt beside an old electrical panel.
Years earlier, I had discovered a loose brick behind it where the previous waitress hid cigarettes. I pulled the brick free and reached into the hollow space.
The brass key was still there.
Luca took it from my hand.
A number had been engraved along the side.
“317.”
Gabriel examined it.
“Penn Station lockers used numbers like this before the renovation.”
Hector crossed his arms.
“So we’re all going to Penn Station now?”
“No,” I said. “You’re going home.”
“They know where I work.”
Luca turned to Gabriel.
“Take him to the safe house.”
Hector shook his head. “I don’t need mafia protection.”
“You do now,” Luca replied.
“I didn’t ask for it.”
“Neither did she.”
The two men stared at each other.
Finally, Hector looked at me.
“You trust him?”
“No.”
Luca raised an eyebrow.
“But I trust Bellini less,” I continued.
Hector reluctantly followed Gabriel through the kitchen exit.
Luca and I left through the front.
A yellow taxi waited outside.
“Your organization uses taxis?” I asked.
“My organization uses anything that doesn’t attract attention.”
“You own armored cars.”
“And Marco knows all of them.”
The driver said nothing as we climbed in.
Luca gave him an address near Penn Station rather than the station itself.
Ten minutes into the ride, I noticed the same black sedan behind us for three consecutive turns.
“We’re being followed.”
Luca checked the mirror.
“You learn quickly.”
“What do we do?”
“You get out at the next light.”
“And leave you?”
“They want me.”
“They searched my home.”
“That was before they found me.”
The light turned red.
Luca reached across me and opened the door.
“Go.”
I slammed it shut.
“No.”
“Maya.”
“You entered my diner, bled on my uniform, destroyed my apartment and told me my dead grandmother kept mafia secrets. I’m seeing this through.”
“That may get you killed.”
“So might going home.”
The driver suddenly accelerated through the red light.
Horns screamed around us.
The black sedan followed.
Luca leaned forward.
“West entrance. Service level.”
The taxi swerved down a ramp beside a delivery truck. The sedan tried to follow but was blocked by a bus.
We exited in an underground loading zone and entered Penn Station through a staff corridor.
Locker 317 no longer existed, but the key also bore a tiny symbol shaped like a crown.
Luca recognized it.
“Private vault company. Three blocks east.”
The company operated beneath a jewelry store that appeared closed.
An elderly man opened the door after Luca spoke a phrase in Italian.
The man looked at me and went pale.
“Rosa?”
“My name is Maya.”
He stared at my face.
“You have her eyes.”
The key opened a narrow deposit drawer.
Inside sat a leather notebook, a cassette tape and a sealed letter addressed to me.
My hands shook as I opened it.
Maya,
If this reaches you, someone has finally become desperate enough to search for what I kept hidden.
Do not give the notebook to any man simply because he claims to deserve it. Power makes liars of good men and monsters of weak ones.
Listen to the tape.
Then decide for yourself.
I placed the cassette into an old player provided by the vault keeper.
My grandmother’s voice filled the room.
“If you are hearing this, Marco Bellini has betrayed another Vitale.”
Luca went completely still.
The recording continued.
“Marco began selling names to federal agents and rival families years ago. Salvatore Vitale refused to believe me. His pride protected Marco. If Salvatore is dead, his son must decide whether he will inherit that pride or end it.”
Luca closed his eyes briefly.
The tape listed bank accounts, dates, payments and the names of officials Bellini had compromised.
Then Rosa said something that changed everything.
“Marco did not merely betray the organization. He arranged the death of Luca Vitale’s mother and allowed Salvatore to blame the Romano family.”
Luca gripped the edge of the table.
His knuckles turned white.
“My mother died in a car bombing.”
“Bellini arranged it,” I whispered.
The tape ended with Rosa’s final warning.
“Revenge will be Marco’s last weapon. Do not give it to him.”
Luca opened the notebook.
Every transaction was documented.
Enough to destroy Bellini.
Enough to destroy Luca too.
“What will you do?” I asked.
His face had become unreadable.
“My captains meet at noon.”
“To declare Bellini the new boss?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll show them the evidence.”
“I’ll show them his body.”
I stepped in front of him.
“That isn’t what my grandmother wanted.”
“Your grandmother did not watch her mother burn alive.”
“No. She spent years protecting the truth so you wouldn’t destroy yourself when you learned it.”
Luca’s eyes flashed.
“You know nothing about my family.”
“I know Bellini expects you to react like this.”
He looked down at the notebook.
I lowered my voice.
“If you kill him in anger, he becomes a martyr. If you expose him, every man who trusted him will know exactly what he is.”
Luca said nothing.
Then his phone rang.
Gabriel’s voice came through the speaker.
“Marco has Hector.”
My stomach dropped.
Bellini came on the line.
“Bring the ledger to the Vitale estate at noon,” he said. “Or the cook dies first.”
May you like
A pause.
“Then the waitress.”
