The Cousin at the Funeral
Chapter 04 - The Cousin at the Funeral
Anthony Romano arrived at the mansion before dawn.
Dominic had not called him.
That mattered.
Anthony walked into the foyer wearing a navy suit and no tie, face tight with concern.
“I heard Uncle Cesare is being detained in his own house.”
Dominic stood at the foot of the stairs.
“Who told you?”
Anthony stopped.
A small mistake.
“Matteo.”
Matteo appeared behind Dominic.
“No.”
Anthony looked at him.
The lie hung there.
Grace stood near the library with the girls upstairs asleep under Mrs. Donnelly’s watch.
Dominic had asked Grace whether she wanted to stay.
She had said yes.
Not for him.
For the girls.
Good.
Anthony looked between them.
“What is happening?”
Dominic held up Isabelle’s summer photograph.
“Where were you when she died?”
Anthony’s face changed.
Barely.
“At the office.”
“Which one?”
“Manhattan.”
“Who saw you?”
“My staff.”
“Names.”
Anthony laughed uneasily.
“Dominic.”
“Names.”
“Why?”
“Because Olivia says you were at the preschool.”
Silence.
Anthony’s expression emptied.
“Olivia spoke?”
Dominic heard it immediately.
Not surprise that she remembered.
Surprise that she spoke.
“Interesting question.”
Anthony looked away.
“I meant after fourteen months.”
“No.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“You meant something else.”
Anthony’s hand moved toward his jacket.
Matteo moved faster.
“Do not.”
Anthony froze.
Slowly removed his hand.
Empty.
Dominic said:
“My daughters remember Cesare.”
“Fine.”
“They remember you.”
Anthony swallowed.
“Children remember fragments.”
“Yes.”
“That morning was chaos.”
“You were there.”
Silence.
Then:
“Yes.”
Grace’s breath changed.
Dominic stared.
“Why?”
“Isabelle called me.”
“When?”
“Seven forty.”
“About?”
“Cesare.”
“Keep going.”
Anthony looked toward the library.
“She said she had proof Uncle Cesare was stealing from the charity.”
“Did you know?”
“No.”
Grace raised an eyebrow.
Anthony saw.
“I suspected accounting irregularities.”
Better.
“Why meet at the preschool?”
“She was dropping the girls.”
“She wanted witnesses?”
“Yes.”
“Or safety.”
Anthony’s face tightened.
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I arrived around eight.”
“The shooting was eight nineteen.”
“Yes.”
“Where was Cesare?”
Anthony looked down.
“In the parking lot.”
Dominic felt something cold settle.
“So Sophie was right.”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Anthony closed his eyes.
“That Isabelle had gone too far.”
“Then?”
“Adrian arrived.”
Matteo swore.
Anthony continued.
“He had documents.”
“Proof?”
“Yes.”
“Then why was he there?”
“To give them to Isabelle.”
Grace looked at Dominic.
Adrian had been helping.
Anthony continued.
“Cesare confronted him.”
“Violently?”
“Yes.”
“Gun?”
“Not yet.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“What about Isabelle?”
“She got the girls into the car.”
Olivia had said Anthony held the car door.
“Yes,” Anthony whispered.
“I helped.”
“Then why didn’t they leave?”
Anthony looked sick.
“Cesare blocked the driveway.”
“Then?”
“A black sedan pulled in.”
“Who?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Now?”
Anthony’s eyes moved toward Matteo.
“Yes.”
“Name.”
“Peter Bennett.”
Grace stopped breathing.
Her father.
Dominic looked at her.
She shook her head.
Not denial.
Shock.
Anthony continued.
“Peter got out.”
“Armed?”
“He was police.”
“That was not my question.”
“Yes.”
Grace sat down.
Dominic forced himself to continue.
“What did Peter do?”
“He told Cesare the police had copies.”
Grace looked up.
“What copies?”
“Charity records.”
Anthony’s voice shook.
“Cesare panicked.”
“What happened to Isabelle?”
Anthony looked at Dominic.
“This is the part you will not forgive.”
“Try me.”
“Isabelle told me to take the girls.”
Dominic’s hands tightened.
“I did.”
“You took them where?”
“Toward the school entrance.”
“I remember Uncle Anthony holding us,” Olivia said from the stairs.
Everyone turned.
She stood barefoot in a nightgown.
Grace moved toward her.
Stopped.
Waited.
Olivia came down on her own.
“He carried Nora.”
Anthony’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Dominic’s anger shifted.
Not gone.
Rearranged.
Olivia looked at him.
“He told us not to look.”
Anthony covered his face.
Dominic’s voice lowered.
“What happened when you turned away?”
Anthony’s hands dropped.
“A gunshot.”
“Whose gun?”
“I don’t know.”
“You were there.”
“I was holding three children.”
“Who fired?”
“I don’t know.”
Dominic stepped forward.
Grace said his name.
“Dominic.”
He stopped.
Olivia watched.
Again.
Always watching what he would do.
Anthony continued.
“When I turned back, Isabelle was down.”
Dominic’s chest tightened.
“Cesare?”
“Near the sedan.”
“Peter?”
“Kneeling beside her.”
“Adrian?”
“Running after someone.”
“Who?”
“I couldn’t see.”
“So you took the girls.”
“Yes.”
“Then what?”
Anthony looked at him.
“Cesare told me if I spoke, he would make sure the police found evidence tying you to the shooting.”
Dominic laughed softly.
“That makes no sense.”
“It did then.”
“Why would he frame me?”
“To control the organization.”
“After I went to prison.”
“Yes.”
Dominic stared.
“You believed him.”
“I knew what he had.”
“What?”
Anthony swallowed.
“Your gun.”
Silence.
Dominic’s face emptied.
“What gun?”
“The Beretta Isabelle made you stop carrying after Olivia was born.”
He had kept it in the bedroom safe.
Then lost it months before the murder.
He thought a staff member had stolen it.
Anthony continued.
“Cesare showed it to me in a plastic bag.”
Dominic stopped.
“He had my gun.”
“Yes.”
“Was it the murder weapon?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ballistics.”
“Police report said a nine-millimeter.”
His Beretta was nine-millimeter.
Grace looked at Dominic.
“Who investigated?”
Dominic already knew.
Peter Bennett.
Her father.
Anthony said:
“Cesare told me Detective Bennett would confirm whatever story was needed.”
Grace went pale.
Her father’s name.
Again.
Dominic looked toward her.
Then Olivia spoke.
Softly.
“Uncle Anthony didn’t hurt Mommy.”
Anthony began crying.
A grown man in a navy suit, shoulders shaking beneath the mansion chandelier.
Olivia continued.
“He tried to cover our eyes.”
Dominic looked at his cousin.
Fourteen months of hate rearranged in seconds.
Then Sophie appeared at the top of the stairs holding Grace’s hand.
She had woken too.
Her voice was barely sound.
“The man with the shiny ring.”
Dominic looked up.
“What man?”
Sophie touched her own little finger.
“Snake.”
Matteo went still.
Grace saw.
“Who wears a snake ring?”
Nobody answered.
Then Matteo reached into his pocket.
He opened an old personnel photo.
Adrian Voss.
On his right hand—
a silver serpent ring.
Sophie shook her head violently.
“No.”
Not Adrian.
She pointed toward another framed family photograph on the hallway wall.
Cesare stood there beside Dominic’s father.
On Cesare’s hand:
The same serpent ring.
The room went silent.
Sophie whispered:
“Uncle Cesare had it.”
Then she looked at her father.
“And after Mommy fell, he gave it to the other man.”
Dominic’s voice became quiet.
“What other man?”
Sophie closed her eyes.
When she opened them, she pointed not at Anthony.
Not Matteo.
Not Peter Bennett.
At Dominic himself in the photograph.
“No,” she whispered.
“The man who looked like Daddy.”
Dominic stopped breathing.
His family had spent fourteen months searching for one killer.
Sophie remembered a man who looked like him.
And Dominic had only one living relative who could pass for his brother from a distance.
May you like
A half-brother nobody in the mansion had spoken about in years.
Julian Romano.
