Chapter 38 - THE HUDSON DRIFT
They were inside an underground tunnel lined not with industrial brick, but with hand-hewn bluestone.
The air was remarkably dry, untouched by the Hudson River’s brackish moisture. Along the walls, wooden shelves had rotted away decades ago, leaving behind rusted metal brackets and rows of empty, dust-veiled glass carboys.
Victor lay sprawled against the damp floor, coughing violently, spittle and blood flecking his chin. "You think... you think you understand Isabella?" he mocked, his voice echoing thinly down the stone corridor. "She’s not your sister, Nicholas. She was never Arthur Bell’s dutiful accountant. She’s Arthur’s firstborn. From before he sold his soul to me."
Nicholas stood unmoving in the gloom, Lucy cradled securely against his chest. He reached down and adjusted the thermal blanket from his vest, wrapping it tight around the child.
"Keep talking, Victor," Nicholas said cold as winter ice. "Every lie you tell just gives me another reason to leave you in this vault to rot."
"It's not a lie!" Victor wheezed, trying to prop himself up on his uninjured elbow. "Why do you think Daniel Santos gave her the ledger instead of bringing it to you? Daniel didn't trust you, Nicky. He knew what you were. He knew you spent ten years turning this city into a slaughterhouse under my banner. Daniel gave the blue folder to Isabella because Isabella promised him a clean extraction. A new name. A new life for him and Lucy."
"Then why is Daniel dead?" Maria demanded, stepping out of the shadows, her eyes flashing with fury. "We found the vehicle submerged near the pier! Daniel’s watch was inside!"
Victor let out a sickening, rattling laugh. "Did you find a body? Did Nicholas’s divers pull a corpse out of that sedan?"
Nicholas’s eyes narrowed in the dark.
"Victor," Nicholas said, stepping closer, his heavy boot coming down squarely on the elder Caruso’s shattered collarbone. Victor gasped, his body arching in blinding agony. "Where is Daniel Santos?"
"Ask... Isabella," Victor groaned, tears of pain cutting tracks through the grime on his face. "She needed him out of the picture to claim the trust. Under Arthur’s original 1994 will, the offshore accounts couldn't be dissolved by a single signatory. It required two: Arthur’s bloodline, and the designated custodian of the Santos ledger. Once Arthur died, Isabella had half the key. But Lucy... little Lucy is Daniel’s legal beneficiary. If Daniel is declared dead and Lucy is placed under Isabella’s legal guardianship, the entire eighty-million-dollar maritime portfolio transfers to her personal dummy corporation in Panama."
Maria gasped, hand flying to her mouth. "The bruise... she wasn't punishing Lucy for eating a cookie. She was trying to force Daniel to sign the custodial transfer before she got rid of him!"
Lucy stirred against Nicholas’s collar, her small fingers twitching in her sleep. "Uncle Nicholas... where is Daddy? Daddy said we were going to the carousel..."
Nicholas closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, an unbearable pressure constricting his chest. When he opened them, the coldness had hardened into diamond.
He bent down, unholstered Victor’s backup .38 revolver from the old man’s ankle sheath, unloaded the cylinder, and threw the bullets into the dark tunnel behind them. He left the empty gun beside Victor’s head.
"You’re going to walk, Victor," Nicholas whispered.
"I can't... my shoulder is shattered..."
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"You’re going to walk, or I will drag you through these catacombs by your broken collarbone until your skin strips off against the bluestone. Stand up."
***
