“You only knew her through the library?”
“Yes. But I probably knew her better than anyone. She dashed to the library right after school every day to escape the taunts of the other children. Did you ever have a child cringe when you came close? It’s not pleasant. At first she was anxious around me, but I talked to her about books and helped her pick ones she would like. I brought food to the library for her and occasionally new clothes. Over time she learned to trust me, so I was able to take her to the apartment I lived in at the time, and show her how to wash herself. I gave her a hairbrush and taught her to brush her hair. I think I was the only adult she felt cared about her. Maybe the only human being.
“It’s hard to talk about this without feeling guilty, but back then families cared for their children as best they could. People didn’t interfere the way they would today. Sometimes she had bruises on her face and arms, but she ignored questions about them and would never admit that her father beat her. In fact, she ignored any question she didn’t like.”
“It’s not unusual for children who are being beaten to try to keep it a secret,” Parker said.
“I imagine so. The kids in her class, especially the girls, ganged up on her and teased her mercilessly, calling her white trash and other hurtful names. And, to add to her humiliation, her teacher, Mrs. Schermerhorn, was intent on forcing Connie to speak clearly. She would make her read the same paragraph over and over in class. Of course, Connie was mortified by the attention, and whenever it happened, she was distraught when she came into the library.”
She smiled, remembering. “It was one of those days that she stole the book.”
“What book was that?” asked Corelli.
“Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill. Someone had left a copy on the table where she usually sat. I guess the title intrigued her, so she started reading it. I usually talked to her but that day she was so focused I didn’t interrupt. And when I glanced over to see how she was doing later, I saw her slip the book into a coat pocket. I was surprised, but she had so little in her life I let it go. It turned out to be a providential decision for the library.”
Corelli frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You know she left home at sixteen?”
“Yes.”
“She was ten when she stole the Hill book. She told me it changed her life. It became her bible. She read and reread it, and it convinced her she could do anything she wanted, if she wanted it badly enough. She laid out a plan to leave home when she was sixteen and started putting aside a little of the food money her father gave her every week. She knew exactly what she wanted. She was determined to make everyone envy and respect her.”
“You knew of her plan?”
“No. Eighteen years after she left, she came back to Hope Falls in a limousine with a uniformed chauffeur and created quite a stir. Initially I was the only one she talked to. She wanted to expand and renovate the library and set up an endowment to fund it, but there were several conditions. The library had to be named for her. We had to provide a copy of a special edition of the Napoleon Hill book with a forward written by her, free to anyone who wanted one. There had to be a grand reception for the reopening with certain people receiving special invitations. And, I had to administer the endowment as long as I lived or was mentally able.”
“Who did she want invited?”
“Her brothers, their wives, and all her classmates, especially all the girls who tormented her. She remembered every one of their names. She wanted to show them that dirty little Connie Broslawski was successful beyond their dreams. And she did. There was a lot of fawning, and excuse my language, sucking up to her at the reception. Then she never spoke to any of them again, including her brothers and sisters-in-law. Whenever she arrived in her limousine to pick up her niece Stacy, people tried to get her attention by knocking on the windows of the car, but she acted as if they were invisible.”
“Do you think she enjoyed her revenge?”
“Absolutely. But, unfortunately, Stacy got caught in the aftermath and it ruined her life.”
“Did Connie keep in contact with you?”
“After the party she thanked me for everything and left. We never spoke again but I think she waved to me from her limousine whenever she came to get Stacy. I was never sure because of the dark glass.”
“That was it?”
“Not quite. Several months after the reception, a man showed up at my door with a message from Connie Broslawski. She had bought this house for me and provided money to decorate it. Plus, she had set up a trust that would pay me five thousand dollars a month as long as I lived.”
“Quite a payback.”
“Yes. A great deal of money in Hope Falls. Of course, I never expected anything. I tried to refuse the gift because it was too generous, but the man said he didn’t know how to get in touch with her, so I would have to take it. He gave me a note from Connie and left.”
She caressed the wooden table. “The note said, ‘Thank you for caring. This is for me as well as for you.’”
Lipkin laughed. “So I bit the bullet and accepted. And, I must say, my happy life became even happier because of a small kindness toward a needy child.”
“Thank you for sharing that, Ms. Lipkin.” Corelli was saddened by her story of Connie Broslawski as a pathetic child, but she was relieved to hear about the generous gift the adult Connie Winter gave to the woman who’d been so kind to her. It was nice to know Winter could occasionally be kind and generous. Up to now, they’d only heard about her cruelty and vindictiveness.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Waiting to board their flight to New York, Parker struggled to keep her anxiety in check. She’d been close to a panic attack on their way to Hope Falls, but instead of taunting her, Corelli had kept her busy talking about the case. Now, her only source of anxiety was her fear of flying.
“Parker, are you—”
Corelli’s phone interrupted. “Corelli.” Though Parker was close enough to hear the rapid rush of words, she wasn’t close enough to understand what was being said. But a glance at Corelli’s pale face told her it wasn’t good news.
“How bad is he?” Corelli’s voice was low and filled with pain. She listened a few minutes then ended the call. She took a deep breath. “That was Watkins. My apartment alarm went off last night and scared off a couple of thugs trying to break in. But instead of waiting for the alarm people or the police as he’s supposed to, my super took on the guys when they tried to leave the building. The alarm people found him unconscious in the lobby.”
“How bad is he?”
“They did emergency surgery to relieve the pressure on his brain and now he’s in an induced coma. Winfry posted round-the-clock uniforms outside his hospital room and in the lobby of my building.”
“Were any other apartments burglarized?”
“No. They think it was Righteous Partners, not your run of the mill burglars.”
“The department won’t keep cops on him or in the lobby for long. The building will need to get somebody fast.”
“I’ll hire private security for him. Watkins recommended a friend, an ex-cop, and her writer partner who are available immediately to take over as super. I’m sure they’ll be fine, but I’ll meet them later tonight and decide.”
“An ex-cop sounds like a good idea.” You’re going to decide? You own the building?
“Give me a minute, Parker. I need to call Fran, the super’s wife.”
Parker listened to Corelli’s side of the conversation. “I’m so sorry. I told him not to put himself in danger.” She paused to listen. “You focus on getting him better. No, don’t worry about money. The insurance will cover all the hospital and medical costs and I’ll make up the difference between the long-term disability payment and his salary. Definitely, a long recovery. No. Stay in your apartment. The new super can take the empty one.” She hung up.
“Righteous Partners is escalating. I wish I could figure out why they think I’m a th
reat.”
“Maybe they’re looking for proof that you’re dirty?”
“Or trying to plant proof.” Corelli held Parker’s eyes. “You think I’m dirty, don’t you?”
“How—” Parker looked away.
“You just figured out I own the building. Is that it?”
Parker thrust her chin out. “Partly.”
“My uncle had a very successful business importing food and furniture from Italy. He also owned high-end retail stores that specialized in all things Italian. By the time he died five years ago, he had sold all the businesses but not the real estate. He never married so my sisters and I each inherited money and property. He left me the building I live in and my sisters each got equally valuable property in Brooklyn. Actually, I live in his apartment.” She held her phone out. “Call Gianna or Simone or Patrizia right now if you don’t believe me.”
Parker pushed the phone away.
“What’s the rest of ‘partly’?”
“Forget it.”
“How can I trust you to watch my back, if you think I’m dirty and a liar?”
“Toricelli recognized you. Are you on his payroll?”
Corelli laughed. “Toricelli keeps his eye on anyone who threatens him. My brother was shot in the eye, a gangster hit. I adored Luca and his death devastated me. I thought Toricelli ordered it, so I went to the pastry shop he hung out in and threatened to kill him. He swore he didn’t do it. Gianna and Patrizia can confirm it.” She held the phone out. “Simone wasn’t born yet.”
Once again, Parker pushed the phone away.
“The first contact I’ve had with Toricelli since I threatened him was the other night. If you’re still not comfortable, it would be best if you tell Winfry you can’t work with me.”
Parker met Corelli’s eyes. I believe. And Jesse would’ve told me. After a few seconds she closed her eyes and broke the connection.
“Are we good?” Corelli asked.
“We’re good, I think.”
“I’d like a heads-up if you change your mind.”
They sat in silence. Parker tried to calm her flying jitters, while Corelli tapped her toe and checked her phone.
“You know, if you get Winfry to reassign you, you won’t have to worry about ruining your clothes anymore.”
Sure it was Corelli’s anxiety talking, Parker ignored the provocation.
“You’re no fun.” Corelli tapped her cell phone. “Might as well call in for messages.” She listened to a couple of messages, made a note, then catapulted out of her chair as if an electric current had passed through her. Looking tense and on edge, Corelli paced with the phone to her ear.
Parker pushed her anxiety about flying aside. She didn’t want to intrude, but she could see that something else had happened, so she went with her gut feeling and fell into step with Corelli. “What’s wrong? Can I help?”
Corelli didn’t answer. She moved to the window, struggling for control. Parker followed, but looked away, giving her space. Without saying anything, Corelli pressed something on her cell, listened for a minute, and handed it to Parker.
The voice was eerie, like the guy in Star Wars. But it was the message that touched every nerve in Parker’s body, like fingernails scraping on a blackboard. She shivered.
“So, Corelli, you know you didn’t get all of us. Did you think you would go unpunished for fucking up so many lives? Since we can’t use a firing squad, and, as we should have expected, you continue to outsmart us, we have a better idea. You will call a press conference Monday afternoon to announce you’re resigning from the job because you feel guilty for tricking innocent cops and making them appear dirty. You will also forget everything you think you know about Righteous Partners. If you don’t obey, we’ll take out your family, one by one, starting with the lovely Simone. You’ve taken our jobs and our families from us so why shouldn’t we do the same for you?”
The next message was from Simone. “Chiara, I’m in a car with these two police officers. They wanted me to give you a message.” Parker heard a voice in the background, and then Simone said, “the message is, ‘so you know we can.’ Oh, here is good. Thanks. They dropped me at the subway. Will I see you tonight, Chiara?”
Parker felt her blood drain. Righteous Partners was demonstrating just how easy it would be to get to Simone. She handed the phone to Corelli.
Corelli sank into a nearby seat and stared at her hands. “Those bastards.” Her voice broke.
Parker rocked on her feet, unsure what to do. This was the down side of being close to your family. Somebody could hurt you by hurting them. It was painful seeing Corelli, so brave and fearless for herself, devastated by the thought of her sister being hurt. Parker felt a surge of protectiveness and without thinking about it, knelt down in front of Corelli and took her hands.
“We’ll protect her. Don’t worry. Let’s figure out what needs to be done, and when we get back we’ll do it. We’ll get them.”
Corelli offered a weak smile. “Thanks, Parker. The only one in Righteous Partners who would know that taking away the job would be as good as killing me is my old friend Jimmy McGivens. He also knows how attached I am to Simone and that harming her or anyone in my family is the way to punish me. But he wouldn’t chance doing it himself, and I don’t know who else is still out there.”
“There must be something besides—”
“I could use myself as bait, but even if we get some of them, they’ll be the muscle. It won’t make a difference. Simone and my whole family will still be in danger. I need time to think it through.”
“If there’s anything I can do, anything, say the word.”
“Thanks.”
Their flight started boarding.
“God, I almost forgot. Today is my niece Gabriella’s birthday. The last thing I need right now is to see my family, but I can’t miss her party. Would you mind dropping me at the party when we get back to New York? I can get someone to drive me home after.”
“No problem.” No way are you going anywhere without me, especially now. “But I’d like to stay. I could run into the bookstore over there and get her something.”
Corelli’s voice caught. “You sure you’re ready for another encounter with the Corelli clan?”
Their eyes met. Parker let go of Corelli’s hands. “Definitely.”
Corelli cleared her throat. “You’re a brave woman. Let’s go.”
The flight back was less traumatic. Parker was tense taking off and landing, but her concern for Corelli and her family pushed the fear into the background. She focused on distracting Corelli. They even managed to talk about the case for a while. As soon as they exited the plane they retrieved the car and headed to Brooklyn.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Corelli decided not to tell anyone in the family about the threat. She would take care of it one way or another. But Parker was uneasy as they rang the bell, afraid she would open her big mouth without thinking and tell somebody. She relaxed when Gianna answered the door and greeted them warmly, as if everything was normal.
“Simone is here already,” she said, “and I expect Patrizia and her Joseph in about a half an hour. They’ll bring Mama and Papa. Until then, come in and relax.”
The house was crowded. The kids running and playing games, the adults standing or sitting in small groups, engaged in loud discussions ranging from politics to the kinds of canned tomatoes that were best for sauce. For the most part, these were not the same people who’d been present on Tuesday.
All heads turned toward them. Conversations paused but quickly picked up again. And then there was lots of kissing, men and women came to Corelli, and Corelli went to some older people who remained seated. Parker guessed this was mostly family.
Simone waved and broke away from her conversation to hug Parker. When Corelli joined them, she pulled her young sister close. Simone tried to step back but Corelli held on. “Did you get my message about those two cops?” Simone asked. “It seemed weird but they said they
were testing something for you.”
Standing behind Simone, Parker watched a series of emotions pass over Corelli’s face—sadness, anxiety, and anger. Holding her sister close, Corelli said, “Don’t ever do that again. Never, ever, get in a car with men or women you don’t know.”
“They showed me their badges so I figured it was okay.”
“Especially men and woman with badges. Don’t let them get close. Ask them for the password. If they don’t know it, run to some crowded public place, call 911, and then call me.”
“What password?”
“Scopello.”
“Papa’s village? Sure. But—”
“No buts. Understand?”
Gabriella dashed in from another room and wrapped herself around Corelli’s legs. “Auntie Chiara, you’re here. I knew you would come.”
Corelli laughed but held on to Simone. And tightened her arms. “Understand?”
“All right. Scopello.”
Corelli patted her shoulder. “Good girl.” With Gabriella clinging to her legs, she shuffled to the nearest chair, pulled the giggling girl onto her lap, and covered her with loud kisses. Digging in her bag with her good hand she said, “Let’s see. I think I have something for you. Oh, no, maybe I left it home. I’m so sorry, Gabriella.”
Gabriella glared at her aunt, and refusing to accept that she had forgotten, pushed her hand back into the bag to search. Corelli pulled out a hairbrush. Gabriella frowned and pushed her aunt’s hand into the bag again.
Corelli rummaged. “Hmm, what could this be?”
Gabriella shrieked in delight as Corelli yanked out a small box. Her eyes shining, Gabriella tore the paper and opened the box.
“Mama, Mama, look.” Gabriella pulled the small gold bracelet out of the box, wrapped her arms around her aunt, and covered her face with kisses. Corelli put the bracelet on Gabriella’s wrist, buried her head in the child’s neck and held her tight. Gianna beamed.
Gabriella noticed the package with birthday wrapping in Parker’s hand, slid off her aunt’s lap, and sidled over to Parker. “Is that for me, Detective Parker?”
A Matter of Blood Page 20
