“Peter,” I said, “thanks for taking my call. I have some questions for you about your former marketing director, Marietta Georges.”
“It’s good to hear from you Mr. Toscano,” his tone is heavy and I know I’m not going to like what comes out of his mouth next. “Your man sent me a picture of who’s been working for you under the alias of Marietta Georges, but it isn’t her. Marietta was killed four weeks ago in a hit and run.”
“Thank you for your time,” I said, and threw the phone across the room, watching it shatter into a dozen pieces when it hits the wall. Everyone silently watches me pace.
“Mattia’s in good hands here,” I finally said. “Let’s go back to the club, see what we can dig up. Carlo, send two men over to Marietta’s apartment and search for anything she left behind. Have Davide start running checks on airports with his facial recognition software.”
“Let me come with you,” Kelli said, she seemed to have calmed down and her chin was sticking out in a determined way. “I’ll keep thinking. There must be something I’m missing.”
Another guard came in and whispered to Carlo, who nodded grimly. “They found the baker at the shop. She’d been shot in the head and the body was hidden in the cold storage unit.”
“Fuck,” I groaned. Marietta had no problem murdering anyone who got in her way. But they need Cora, and this gives us time.
“We traced the signal from the tracker on her wedding ring,” Carlo said, “it was thrown behind a dumpster about a block away from the shop. Marietta must have known about the GPS chip.” He pulled the ring out of his pocket and handed it to me.
“I should have had one inserted under her skin,” I said.
I fucking knew it, but she was so against the idea.
I took reports from my men, spread out over Boston and looking for any sign of Cora. Davide was working with his contact in the Department of Homeland Security, trying to find the identity of the woman who murdered the real Marietta and took her place.
Kelli was racking her brain for anything that would help us. “I was with Cora when she was on the phone with Marietta when they were talking about the reception, I could tell Cora trusted her. They did talk to each other at the club opening a couple of times. Did Cora mention anything to you?”
“No, but that could be important,” I said, forcing a smile for her. She still looked terrified. “Jonas,” I pointed at the club’s manager. “Pull the tapes from the opening night. Find me everything with the two of them together.”
Heading to his office and looking over the monitors, I watched him try to narrow in on any sighting of Cora and Marietta.
“Oh, look! That’s when we were dancing and Cora’s dress got all twisted up,” Kelli pointed at a corner of the screen. It was difficult to see details in the black light, but I spotted the two of them dancing together and there was Marietta, standing by the railing, watching them.
“What’s that?” I leaned in closer and realized it was the terrible-looking tattoo on Cora’s hip, it was glowing a bright blue in the black light and looked surprisingly graceful. “I didn’t know her tattoo glowed like that,” I said, “that’s a specialty ink, very unusual.”
Kelli brightened, “I know, right? I took a picture because I thought it was so pretty.”
Jonas was trying to zoom in and get a closer look, but the image was murky at best.
“Show me the picture,” I said, leaning over Kelli’s shoulder as she opens her image files. “Schmidt had it tattooed on her when she was unconscious,” I told Carlo, “she’s always hated it.”
“Here it is,” Kelli said triumphantly.
Jonas holds out his hand, “I can plug this into my monitor, you can get a better look.” When he pulls it up, the enlarged image makes him whistle. “Sir, these are bank codes.” My manager is also very skilled in money laundering.
“Why the hell would he put the codes on her?” Carlo said.
“He thought they had a special bond,” I snarled, “this must have been another twisted version of intimacy for him. But now this makes sense. Whoever ‘not Marietta’ is, she could be an associate of Schmidt’s looking for his money.”
Carlo nodded, “I’ll get Davide on making a list of close associates and family members.”
“Cora told me that he mentioned being ‘his mother’s favorite,’ which would indicate siblings,” I said. “Jonas, can you track the location of the codes?”
“I can,” he said, fingers flying over his keyboard, clearly happy to be able to do something to help. “Give me ten minutes to match the sequential codes to their country of origin. We can track the banks after I have that.”
Hang on, Bellissima,I’m coming.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
In which there is a German Mule.
Cora…
