Chapter 4 - The Lawyer Six Blocks Away

Peter Sloan was eighty-four.

Retired.

Still sharp.

He opened the door himself.

Chicago.

Rain.

Gray morning.

Vincent stood beside Victoria.

Cassandra behind them.

Edward beside me.

Sloan looked at Vincent.

Then Victoria.

His face changed.

“The twins.”

Vincent frowned.

“You knew both of us.”

“Yes.”

“Then let us in.”

Sloan did.

His apartment looked like a law office that had forgotten to close.

Boxes.

Files.

Old photographs.

Victoria held up the red shoe.

Sloan stared.

“Anthony kept the other.”

Vincent said:

“He left it behind.”

“No.”

Sloan shook his head.

“He took it to Montreal.”

Vincent looked at Edward.

Edward frowned.

Sloan continued:

“He gave it to me.”

“Why?”

“Because he thought he was going to die.”

Silence.

Victoria whispered:

“Did he?”

Sloan looked at her.

“No.”

Vincent’s jaw tightened.

“Where is my father?”

Sloan sat down.

“I don’t know.”

“Wrong answer.”

“It is the truth.”

“What happened in Montreal?”

Sloan looked at Cassandra.

Then Edward.

Then the twins.

“Anthony arrived with Lucia Marie.”

“Our aunt.”

“Yes.”

“He wanted the custody statement.”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“I gave it to him.”

Victoria’s eyes filled.

“He had proof.”

“Yes.”

“That I belonged with my family.”

“Yes.”

Vincent asked:

“Then why didn’t he come home?”

Sloan looked at him.

“Because someone was waiting outside.”

“Cassandra’s father.”

Sloan shook his head.

“No.”

Edward leaned forward.

“Who?”

Sloan whispered:

“Anthony’s brother.”

Vincent froze.

“My uncle.”

“Yes.”

Vincent had an uncle.

Dominic Marino.

The man who raised him after his parents were gone.

The man who told him he had been an only child.

Vincent stared.

“Dominic was there.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He wanted the custody paper.”

“Why would he care about Victoria?”

Sloan looked at Vincent.

“Because he wanted control of you.”

Silence.

Vincent laughed softly.

“What?”

“Your father planned to leave the Marino businesses.”

“Yes.”

“If he left with both children, Dominic lost his position.”

Edward’s face hardened.

“He was managing the family accounts.”

Sloan nodded.

“Anthony had discovered money missing.”

Vincent looked at Edward.

“Another reason he was leaving.”

“Yes.”

Sloan continued.

“Dominic told Anthony he could not take both children.”

“Then?”

“They argued.”

“Did Dominic kill him?”

“No.”

Vincent’s eyes narrowed.

“Then what?”

Sloan stood.

Walked to a safe.

Opened it.

One cassette recorder.

He pressed play.

Anthony Marino’s voice.

Older than the photographs.

Breathing hard.

“Peter, if I do not get home…”

Vincent stopped.

His father.

The recording continued.

“…tell Lucia I tried.”

Victoria covered her mouth.

Anthony:

“Dominic has Vincent.”

Silence.

Vincent froze.

Sloan paused the tape.

Vincent stared.

“I was four.”

“Yes.”

“Dominic threatened me.”

“Yes.”

Sloan continued the recording.

“He says if I take Victoria, Vincent disappears.”

Victoria started crying.

Vincent looked away.

Anthony’s voice:

“I cannot choose between my children.”

Then another voice.

Lucia Marie.

“You do not have to.”

Anthony:

“What are you doing?”

Lucia:

“I’ll take the paper.”

Silence.

Anthony:

“No.”

Lucia:

“You go back for Vincent.”

Anthony:

“And Victoria?”

Lucia:

“I will come for her.”

The recording ended.

Vincent stared at Sloan.

“My aunt took the custody paper.”

“Yes.”

“And Dad went back.”

“Yes.”

“For me.”

“Yes.”

“Then where did he go?”

Sloan looked down.

“He never made it home.”

Edward asked:

“Did Dominic intercept him?”

“I believe so.”

Vincent’s voice became cold.

“Believe?”

Sloan opened another file.

A toll receipt.

Anthony’s car.

Highway south.

Two hours after the Montreal recording.

Then another.

A gas station.

Then nothing.

Sloan said:

“His car was found three days later.”

“Where?”

“Near Lake Champlain.”

Victoria whispered:

“Was there blood?”

“No.”

“A body?”

“No.”

“Then why did everyone assume he died?”

Sloan looked at Edward.

“Because Dominic told them he did.”

Vincent closed his eyes.

Of course.

Cassandra asked:

“What happened to Lucia Marie?”

Sloan said:

“She called me a week later.”

Vincent looked up.

“From where?”

“Detroit.”

“What did she say?”

“That she had hidden the custody statement.”

“Where?”

Sloan looked at Victoria.

“With the child.”

Silence.

Victoria frowned.

“With me?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

Sloan pointed at the red shoe.

Everyone looked at it.

Vincent picked up the shoe Edward brought.

Sloan said:

“The sole.”

Vincent turned it over.

Old stitching.

Edward handed him a knife.

Careful.

Vincent opened the inner lining.

A folded strip of paper.

Not the full document.

A microfilm sleeve.

Sloan whispered:

“Lucia copied it.”

Victoria stared.

“She hid evidence in my shoe.”

“Yes.”

Vincent looked at Cassandra.

“Your mother wanted Sophie to throw this away.”

Cassandra’s face changed.

She understood.

Evelyn had not been trying to remove a sentimental object.

She had been trying to destroy evidence.

Vincent called her immediately.

No answer.

Again.

No answer.

Cassandra checked her phone.

One message from her mother.

I AM SORRY.

Then another.

DOMINIC KNOWS EDWARD FOUND THE SHOE.

Vincent stared.

A third message.

HE IS COMING FOR ME.

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And suddenly Dominic Marino was no longer only part of the past.

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