Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Logan Airport’s Terminal C had been heaving as they arrived, a sea of passengers armed with heavy suitcases and roll-ons, children clutching toys, parents looking haggard, business travelers with laptop bags….
Gary checked his phone. Gianni’s flight had just landed and was taxiing toward its gate. He and Dan stood at the huge window, watching as the plane crawled closer. Behind them were two uniformed police officers.
“He’s definitely on this flight?” Dan asked.
Gary nodded. “I checked with Chicago.” The plane came to a dead stop, and the air bridge moved into position. “Okay, showtime.”
They walked past the waiting passengers to the open doors. Gary flashed his badge to the gate agents, then took a step back. It wasn’t long before the first passengers appeared, some strolling, others almost running, undoubtedly trying to make their connections. Gary spotted Gianni, and he stilled.
“He isn’t alone.”
Gianni was smiling as he walked, casually dressed in jeans and a black shirt open at the collar, in conversation with his fellow passenger.
“Who’s with him?” Dan peered past Gary. “Isn’t that Paul’s lawyer, Aaron Stillwater?”
Gary didn’t reply. He blocked Gianni’s way, holding his badge aloft. “Gianni DiFanetti?”
Gianni came to a halt, his smile fading. “Yes? What do you want?”
Bruno had been correct—he and Gianni didn’t resemble one another in the slightest.
But damn, he looks like Paul.
“You’re under arrest for the murders of Cheryl Somers, James Sebring, and Kevin Donaldson.” Gary paused. “And for the theft of thirteen works of art from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum.”
Gianni’s mouth opened, but then he snapped it shut. A bored expression stole over his face as Gary Mirandized him. He glanced at Aaron Stillwater, rolling his eyes as if he found the process entertaining. When Gary was through, Gianni flashed Stillwater a grin.
“Over to you, I think.”
Stillwater coughed. “Well, I must be on my way. Excuse me, gentlemen.”
“What the fuck?” Gianni grabbed his arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To my office. I have a meeting with a client.”
“And what am I?”
Stillwater arched his eyebrows. “Paul DiFanetti’s nephew—and he’s my client. I don’t represent you.”
“Fine.” Gianni snarled. “I don’t need you. Luke Martin’s twice the attorney you’ll ever be.” He turned to Gary. “And that’s all you’re gonna hear from me until I get to talk to Luke.” He smiled, his expression smug.
One of the officers held out a pair of cuffs, and Gianni, still wearing that same smile, stood there as they were fastened around his wrists. Then the officers led him along the concourse, Gary and Dan following, past passengers who stared, pointed, and whispered.
All Gary wanted was to watch the smile vanish from Gianni’s face.
“I get a phone call, right?” Gianni demanded after they’d finished with the paperwork at the main desk. “Because I’m not talking to anyone until my lawyer gets here.”
Dan leaned in. “I need to make a call. I’ll be in the office,” he informed Gary under his breath.
Gary nodded. “I’ll be there in a minute.” Dan hurried away. Gary pointed to the phone. “It’s all yours, Mr. DiFanetti.”
“What’s the number?” Sergeant Rob Michaels asked Gianni. “I’ll dial it.”
Gianni pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled. He handed it to Rob. “There. Luke Martin.” He glanced at Gary over his shoulder and smiled. “The best damn attorney in Boston.”
“I swear, he was smiling all the way over here,” Officer Lomax muttered to Gary. “Every time I looked in the rearview mirror, there he was, like the cat that got the cream.”
Gary doubted he’d be smiling by the time they were through.
Rob handed the phone to Gianni, who took it and held it to his ear. “Hey, Luke. The cops have arrested me. … Three charges of murder… theft too. I need you to get over to the precinct ASAP.” He paused. “Hang on.” Gianni stared at Gary. “What was your name again?”
Gary said nothing but held his badge up for inspection.
“It’s a Detective Gary Mitchell.” Another pause. “Sure.” Gianni held the phone out to Gary. “My lawyer wants to speak to you.”
Gary took it. “This is Detective Mitchell. Hello again, Mr. Martin.”
Gianni blinked.
“Detective, I will not be representing Gianni DiFanetti. And there’s something else you need to know.”
Gary listened intently, careful to keep his expression neutral. “I’ll be sure to pass that on.” He handed the phone back to Gianni. “He wants to talk to you.”
Gianni took it. “So how long will it take you to … What?” His face darkened. “You can’t do this. What do we pay you for? … You get your ass over here and get me out of this place.” He scowled. “Now wait just one goddamn—” Gianni gaped at the receiver with undisguised astonishment. “He hung up.”
Rob took the phone from him. “A lawyer will be appointed for you.”
Gianni pointed at Gary. “You call my father. He’ll send a lawyer.”
Gary kept his face straight. “I don’t think so. Who do you think gave instructions to Mr. Martin?”
Gianni’s jaw dropped, and there was no hint of a smile as he was taken to the cells.
Gary shuddered out a breath. There was still a long road to travel, but he had faith in the system.
Cheryl Somers’s killer would not escape justice.
He headed for the office, but at every turn, there were murmured remarks of approval, pats on the back, and wide grins. Gary shook his head. “It never fails to amaze me how fast news travels around this place.”
Dan was pouring coffee when he entered the office. “You had a call. Riley Watson. He’s on duty guarding Bruno, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” Gary removed his phone from his pocket and dialed. “Hey, Riley. Everything okay?”
“Relax. Everything’s fine. But there’s someone here who wants to talk to you.”
There was a pause; then Bruno spoke. “Detective Mitchell?”
“Mr. DiFanetti. I was about to call you. Gianni has been arrested.”
He caught Bruno’s exhalation. “You were on time. I’m glad. And thanks for letting me know.”
“That wasn’t why I was going to call. Gianni got a bit of a shock at the airport. Mr. Stillwater, your brother’s lawyer, dropped him like a hot potato.”
Gary’s instincts told him Bruno had something to do with it.
“Ah, did he indeed?”
“And then he got another shock when Mr. Martin also refused to represent him. As per your instructions.”
“Yeah, that must have rocked Gianni’s world to its core.”
“Okay, what did you do?” Dan arched his eyebrows, and Gary mouthed Later.
“Me?” Bruno gave a good performance of sounding surprised.
“Surely Paul would have wanted Gianni to have representation.”
“Very possibly.” There was a pause. “Except… I called him last night. I told him what Gianni had done—the murders of Cheryl and James—and that he’d gotten away with too much for too long.
It was time to face the music. Then I told Paul it wouldn’t be in his best interests to provide Gianni with legal representation.
” Another pause. “I reminded him of how much I knew.”
“No wonder you wanted protection. Why didn’t you tell me this when I interviewed you this morning?”
“Because when I’d finished talking to him, Paul said he’d think about it, so I wasn’t certain how things would go. He wasn’t happy, I can tell you that. I know why. He hated the idea of Gianni swinging in the wind without the family money to protect him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Gianni doesn’t have a personal fortune that would allow him to hire some big-shot lawyer.
Well, he did have, but not anymore.” Bruno snorted.
“And right now, I’d be willing to bet he’s sitting in his cell, wishing he’d saved some of the money he’d spent on his fast cars, his horses, his houses, his women… .”
“You mean, he assumed the family money would be there for him, so he saw no need to save any of his own,” Gary concluded.
“Exactly.” Bruno paused. “Detective Mitchell, now you’ve got Gianni on the hook… please, don’t let him go. I’ll help in any way I can, but he can’t walk away from all this.”
“We will do everything within our power,” Gary assured him. “And we’ll keep you safe until he’s where he belongs—behind bars.”
“I’m counting on it. Will he make bail?”
“After being charged with three murders and with a court-appointed lawyer? I doubt it. He can sit in the cells for tonight.”
There was a pause, and then Riley was back. “Well done, boss. Sounds as if you’ve had a result.”
“It’s not over yet, but it’s looking good.”
Better than that—it was looking hopeful.
Saturday, August 4, 2018
4:00 p.m.
Gary walked into the morgue to find Del Maddox putting on his jacket. “It’s a little late for you, isn’t it?” If Del worked a Saturday he was usually gone by midday. Gary had been surprised to learn he was still there.
“Yeah, well, I wanted to clear my backlog. I’ve got an out-of-state wedding to attend, and I wasn’t about to leave my fridges full.”
Gary scanned his surroundings. The stainless-steel surfaces gleamed, everything in its place. “You’d make someone a wonderful husband,” Gary remarked.
“So I’m neat. Bite me.” Del arched his eyebrows. “Have I suffered a lapse of memory? I didn’t think I was working on one of your cases.” He frowned. “In fact, I thought I wouldn’t be seeing you for a while, now that you’re dealing exclusively with cold cases.”
“Your memory is fine. I called ahead, and they told me you were just finishing.” Gary smiled. “I’m here to take you for a drink.”
Del’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline. “To what do I owe this honor?”
Gary took out his wallet and removed a photo. “I have a story to tell you, one I think will interest you. One you’re already familiar with, at least part of it.”
“Now you really have piqued my interest.” Gary handed him the photo, and he studied it. “Beautiful woman. Who is she?”
“The first time you laid eyes on her, she was a body wrapped in plastic.”
Del’s eyes widened. “And now you know how she came to be there?”
Gary nodded.
Del beamed. “Then by all means, buy me that drink. This is one story I want to hear.”