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“This has your name written all over it, Moretti,” the prosecutor muttered, slamming a notebook closed as he gathered his things. “You won’t get away with this. Mark my words. I’ll have you off the streets by the end of the day.”
* * *
Corrado wasn’t home for more than two hours before his phone started incessantly ringing. He ignored it, not in the mood to humor anyone with conversation, but realized they weren’t going to give up after the third consecutive call.
He answered with a sigh, hitting the speakerphone button. “Moretti speaking.”
“We have a problem.”
Corrado closed his eyes at the sound of his lawyer’s voice. He was tired of hearing Mr. Borza say those words. “What now?”
“The prosecution filed for an emergency hearing on a motion to revoke bond based on evidence that you’re a flight risk and a danger to society.”
Leaning back in his office chair, Corrado ran his hands down his face with frustration. “What evidence?”
“Well, they’re citing the fact that Vincent’s missing. They’ve issued a warrant for failing to appear, but so far there’s no sign of him here or at his home.”
There wouldn’t be, Corrado thought. They weren’t going to find Vincent.
“It seems he found a way to remove his monitoring device,” Mr. Borza continued. “They tracked it to a location here in Chicago, but it turned out to be a Dumpster. They searched it, just in case, but there’s no sign of a, uh . . . you know.”
“A body,” Corrado said, finishing the man’s thought.
“Yes.”
Nervousness seeped through the phone, clinging desperately to every word. It made Corrado tense. Even his lawyer doubted things.
“That’s hardly what I’d call evidence of wrongdoing on my part,” Corrado said. “They’re just looking for an excuse. Punishing me for my brother-in-law’s sins.”
“While that may be true, it doesn’t mean it won’t work,” Mr. Borza said. “You’re on trial for a statute they invented to be able to nail you for crimes you’re only somewhat linked to. The government isn’t above stretching things to suit them.”
“So you’re saying they’ll be successful.”
Mr. Borza hesitated. Corrado knew the answer before the man even said, “More than likely, yes.”
While he wasn’t surprised, given Mr. Markson’s words from that morning, Corrado’s stomach churned from the turn in events. “How long does that give me?”
“The hearing is scheduled for tomorrow morning. They wanted to do it tonight, but I stalled a bit. It’s better if you aren’t present, I think, or they may detain you on site. Otherwise, they’ll give you about forty-eight hours to surrender.”
“So the weekend,” Corrado said.
“Something like that.”
Corrado was silent for a moment, mulling over the situation. Forty-eight hours wasn’t enough time for him to do everything he needed to do. If they detained him, he could be gone months, or even years. Too much relied on his ability to remain out on the streets.
“Just do what you can,” Corrado said finally. “I trust your abilities.”
“I’ll give it my all, but I can’t work miracles.”
Corrado let out a sharp laugh. “Are you insinuating only God can help me now?”
“Not at all. I’m just saying we may have to give them this battle and keep our eyes focused on winning the war.”
Corrado pressed the button again, ending the call without giving a response. He sat there for a moment, rubbing the tips of his fingers together deep in thought, before standing up and grabbing his cell phone. He slipped it in his pocket and headed out of his office, passing his wife on the way to the front door.
“You’re leaving?” she asked.
He kissed her cheek. “I have things to take care of. Don’t wait up for me.”
