Chapter 7 - THE MAN WHO BOMBED THE CAR
Victor Sanz agreed to meet because he believed Adrian was dying.
Useful rumor.
The meeting took place inside an empty restaurant in Newark.
Matteo searched Victor.
No weapons.
Adrian arrived in his wheelchair.
Pale on purpose.
Weak on purpose.
Victor smiled.
“You look terrible.”
“I’ve seen your face too.”
Victor laughed.
Old enemies.
Different night.
Adrian placed a photograph of Marcus on the table.
“Three years ago.”
Victor stopped smiling.
“The bomb.”
“What about it?”
“You were blamed.”
“I was.”
“Did you do it?”
Victor leaned back.
“No.”
Adrian stared.
Victor continued:
“I wanted you dead.”
Honest.
“But not your wife.”
“Sophie.”
Victor’s expression shifted.
“I don't kill children.”
“Everyone has standards when convenient.”
“Believe whatever you want.”
Adrian rolled closer.
“I want the truth.”
Victor looked at Marcus’s picture.
“Vale approached one of my former men.”
Adrian’s pulse slowed.
“When?”
“Three weeks before the bombing.”
“What did he offer?”
“Your route.”
“Why?”
“He said you had become weak.”
Adrian stared.
“Three years ago?”
“Not physically.”
Victor smiled.
“He said Claire was pushing you toward legitimate business.”
That was true.
Claire hated the darker side.
Wanted Adrian out.
“He said if you survived…”
Victor paused.
Adrian’s blood went cold.
“If?”
Victor looked at him.
“The plan was supposed to kill you.”
Silence.
“Marcus promised internal access if your organization fractured.”
“You declined?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t trust a man selling his boss.”
Victor laughed bitterly.
“Apparently somebody else did.”
“Who?”
Victor gave him a name.
Rafael Torres.
Independent bombmaker and contract operator.
Dead two years.
But his financial records remained.
Matteo traced old payments.
A corporation in Panama.
Money in.
Then out to Marcus's shell company and Torres-linked accounts.
Enough.
Not only circumstantial now.
Marcus financed the attack.
Adrian sat alone afterward.
Matteo waited.
“What do you want to do?”
Old answer:
Kill him.
New answer took longer.
“Give everything to the task force.”
Matteo stared.
“All?”
“All that relates to Marcus.”
“And what if they find other things?”
“They will.”
“Boss.”
“I know.”
“Your businesses—”
“I know.”
Matteo looked angry.
“What would Claire want?”
That silenced Adrian.
He knew.
She had wanted out.
Legitimate businesses.
No more fear.
No more blood deciding everything.
Adrian looked toward the restaurant window.
“Start cleaning.”
Matteo stared.
“What?”
“Everything.”
“You’re talking years.”
“Yes.”
“Money.”
“Yes.”
“People will leave.”
“Yes.”
“Some may turn on us.”
“Probably.”
Matteo sat.
“You really did let a three-year-old rearrange your brain.”
Adrian almost smiled.
“No.”
Then:
May you like
“She reminded me I still had one.”
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