Chapter 568: He Looks Like His Father
"Does he look like you?" Vito asked.
"Not really." she said. "He looks like his father. Who died because of Luca." She pulled out her phone, clicked on it and handed him the phone for him to see images of Matteo.
Vito scrolled through one picture after another while Val spoke. Her eyes stayed on her father’s face as he looked at Matteo’s pictures.
There was a strange ache in watching him do it. This man had missed everything. The birth of her son. The first time Matteo smiled. The first time he crawled. The nights she sat awake terrified Marco would not come home.
And now Vito sat there, holding her phone like he had the right to see what he had not earned.
"I am afraid for my son," Val said quietly. "For my husband. Dad, who will die next in Luca’s quest to remain a terror? Vee?"
He paused on a photo of Matteo laughing in his walker, one chubby hand lifted, his eyes bright. "He is beautiful."
"Yes," she said.
"You seem to have a good life."
Her face hardened immediately. There he was. The old Vito. He could not look at his grandson without also seeing money. "Is that what you want?" Val asked. "Money? I’ll get you money."
Vito looked up from the phone, offended with convincing speed. "That is not what I said, Val."
"Isn’t it?"
He handed the phone back to her. "I am just glad you both are well provided for."
Val took the phone slowly. "We need to be safe...We need to be sure we will live past the next couple of months."
"Fine," he said.
"You’ll do it?"
"Of course. You’ve convinced me."
"Thank you."
Vito leaned back. "I am still your father."
"You are," she said, because arguing with that truth would only exhaust her. "Which is why I came." She stood. "I have to get back before my husband gets home."
"It was nice seeing you, Val," he said.
Val gave a simple nod. She wished she could say the same. Instead, all she felt was a tired ache. She turned and left the restaurant.
Vito remained seated. The pictures of Matteo still lingered in his mind. His daughters had done well. Better than well.
They had great lives. Driving expensive cars. Living in mansions. Protected by men with names that opened doors. And him? He had been sent away. Fed scraps of money. Treated like dirt. They were his daughters. Their lives should be his life.
Why should Valentina and Veronica play queen? He had made mistakes, yes. Who had not? A man did what he had to do. People liked to judge when their stomachs were full.
But his daughters were still his blood. Their comfort belonged to him too. He reached for the napkin beside his plate.
Then he smiled faintly. He pulled out a pen, picked up a napkin and scribbled the number he had memorised from Valentina’s phone.
*****
Voss was walking on air when he returned to the precinct the next morning. It was a strange look on him.
Most mornings, Detective Voss entered the building as though he had been offended by daylight. He was not a man of cheerful entrances.
But that morning, he looked alive. Valentina’s visit with Vito had produced the expected results, and for the first time in years, the road ahead did not look like a dead end. Vito had agreed. Vito Scalese, walking public health warning, had finally agreed to testify against Luciano Genovese.
It was not justice yet. But it was close enough to taste. And God, after chasing Luca for years, close felt like a miracle.
He headed straight for Captain Harrington’s office. He tapped twice and entered like a man delivering good news to a kingdom. "Good morning, Cap."
Harrington looked up from his desk. He was holding a file in one hand and a pen in the other. He took one look at Voss and frowned. "You look happy."
"Yes," Voss said, unable to keep the satisfaction out of his voice. "Call up the DA and tell him we are a go."
Harrington lowered the file slowly. "Really? Vito finally agreed?"
"Yes and yes."
"Why does that not sound right?" Harrington asked.
Voss blinked. "What?"
"I don’t know."
"That is not reassuring, Cap." Voss’s smile faded a little. "We got what we needed."
"Yes. Suddenly."
"After Valentina spoke to him."
"Exactly. Why are you falling in love with the first cooperative sentence that left his mouth."
"I am not in love with anything Vito says."
"You look ready to take him to dinner."
"All I am is ready to put Luca Genovese on trial."
Harrington pointed the pen at him. "And that is why I need you to sit down inside your own head and think."
Voss exhaled. "Cap..."
"No. Look at it this way. What is in it for Vito?"
"The satisfaction of doing something for his daughters for once."
Harrington stared at him.
Then he said, "You heard yourself, right?"
Voss dragged a hand down his face. "Please don’t ruin my high."
Harrington’s face remained serious, and that seriousness began to work its way beneath Voss’s excitement. The captain was not trying to be difficult for sport, though he did enjoy that as a hobby. He was worried. And Harrington’s worry had weight. "I need you to settle down and think...Do not celebrate yet."
"He wanted to see Valentina."
"And now that he has, he suddenly remembers fatherly devotion?" Harrington leaned forward, folding his hands on the desk. "This is a man who, without a second thought, handed over his own daughter to be sold in the underworld. I don’t think he gets satisfaction from helping them."
Voss’s eyes sharpened. "You think he is playing us." He hated that Harrington might be right. "So what do you want me to do?" Voss asked.
"Have your guard up, is all I am saying. Expect everything to go off the rails and get yourself a back up plan."
Voss nodded slowly.
"You have come this far, Voss," Harrington said. "I know what this means to you. I just..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "I don’t want you to get heartbroken because you missed something."
"Yes, sir," Voss said and stepped back towards the door. The high was not gone, but it had been wounded. Probably for the best.
Still, as his hand touched the door, he glanced back.
"you’re a party pooper."
"It is in my job description." Harrington smiled and shooed Voss out of his office.