Chapter 6
The Mechanic At Pier Nine
Alessandro left the mansion in an ordinary sedan with Grace driving. No motorcade. No armed men following. If Enzo was involved, the fewer people who knew their route, the better.
A man in a faded work jacket waited behind an all-night diner near the harbor. He introduced himself as Jonah Pike. His hands shook when he lit a cigarette.
“I pulled your wife's car off the access road,” Jonah said. “The police said her brakes failed. I saw something else.”
He showed them an old photograph: a damaged sedan on a tow platform, its front wheel removed. Beside a brake line was a clean tool mark.
“I told the investigating officer. A week later my supervisor said I'd be fired if I talked.”
“Why come forward now?” Grace asked.
“Because I saw the invitation to your wedding. The name Moretti was on it.”
Jonah had kept the original image on a memory card. Its metadata was intact. That didn't prove who cut the line, Grace warned, but it could reopen the inquiry.
“Who was at the pier?” Alessandro asked.
Jonah looked toward the highway. “Enzo Varano. And another car with Moretti plates. I figured you knew.”
Alessandro felt the world narrow to the sound of rain against the diner awning. He remembered Enzo holding him upright at Sofia's funeral.
Jonah caught his sleeve. “There's something worse. They weren't trying to stop your wife from leaving. She was on her way to meet somebody.”
“Who?”
“Your grandmother. Sofia wanted to hand her a folder.”
“Teresa?” Alessandro breathed. “I thought they had stopped speaking.”
May you like
Jonah shook his head. “Then somebody lied to you.”
