“A mid-level port manager from your warehouse. He claims his credentials were compromised.”
“And let me guess, he has no alibi to suggest he wasn’t there?”
“Exactly.”
Right. Whoever set him up would see to it that he’d be dead within the next few hours.
“The explosion was triggered by a prepaid burner phone. They have cell tower data indicating the prepaid device was near the detonation,” he paused to stare at me. “It was activated using an identification tied to one of your warehouse properties.”
I chuckled, throwing my head back. “As if I’d be that fucking stupid. What else?”
“They’re building a narrative around you,” Salvo sighed. “Public motive. Political tension. Personal disagreements. You’ve been seen too often in arguments with the mayor.”
“They’re never arguments.”
“They’re tense. Tense enough to look incriminating.”
I tapped the table once, thinking.
“Am I going to talk?”
“No.” Salvo shook his head. I nodded, trusting his judgment on this. “Only answer basic identifying questions. Do not speculate. Do not give them anything more than vague facts and don’t try to explain context or clarify anything.”
That was going to be tough, but I knew it was for the best. They’d already decided that I was guilty. The only way to clear my name was to trust that my family’s corruption ties were strong enough to see me through this.
“How’s my wife?” I asked, leaning my arms on the table.
“She’s fine. Maximus is with her at the hospital. Luckily for you, it seems the mayor will live another day. He’s out of surgery but heavily sedated. He won’t be able to confirm that you intended to meet after the speech.”
That eased a deep ache in my chest that Aria might have lost another parent. He was alive. The explosion wasn’t meant to kill him; it was to silence him. He was safest under sedation and guarded in the hospital.
“Good,” I nodded, which caused Salvo to frown with confusion.
“Good?”
“If he could speak right now, it would only make things more complicated. They’d try to finish him off.”
He narrowed his eyes, realising what I was suggesting.
“You think this is bigger?”
“I know it is.” This was a full-blown organised scheme. A takedown.
A loud knock on the door indicated our time was up and that the detectives were ready for us. Salvo leaned over the table. “One more thing,” he said, lowering his voice. “A message from your brothers. The detectives are going to push you. They’ll mention your wife. They’ll try to persuade you to cooperate for her sake. Do not lose your head. Stay calm.”
“Me? Lose my head? I have no idea what they’re talking about?”
Salvo’s lips curved slightly as he slammed the folder shut.
“If there’s something I should know before we walk into that room—” He gave me a suggestive look, a single moment for me to admit if I had any role in this.
“There isn’t.”
With a curt nod, he rose just as another, more impatient knock sounded on the door, and then two officers entered to escort us into the interrogation room.
“SignorBuccini,” began the older detective, who had introduced himself as Detective Ferri and I’d already pegged as the ‘good cop’ in this act. “Let’s keep this simple.”
“I’m a big fan of simplicity.”
