The Blood Runs Cold Page 10

  “Every murder is a sensitive case for us and every murder is a high priority for us. NYPD doesn’t discriminate on the basis of fame or fortune. Of course, the media often gives the rich and famous more coverage, and thus puts us under more pressure, but our goal in each and every case is to arrest the person or persons who took the life of the victim or victims, as quickly as we can.”

  “You’ve been on the police force for fifteen years and a detective for eight of those fifteen, but your service hasn’t been limited to New York City. You served two tours in Iraq and not that long ago you returned from Afghanistan. How long were you there?”

  “I was on a training mission for about a year.”

  “What was that like?”

  “Difficult. Not being able to identify the enemy is…crazy. We were there to train the Afghani police but we didn’t know who we could trust, who might lure us into a trap or who might show up shooting some morning. To say it was extremely stressful is an understatement. It’s a terrible war, hard on the troops, many of them young, forced to live in hell for a year or more. The price we pay as a country is very high.”

  “Would you go back?”

  “If I’m called, I’ll go.”

  “And less than two weeks after you landed in New York City you were back on the job and starting an undercover investigation of a ring of cops suspected of working for drug dealers. How did you get involved in that?”

  “I was asked.”

  “And of course you said yes. So you went from hell in Afghanistan to living a lie in New York City, investigating your friends, the people you depend on to watch your back. Sounds stressful, not being able to trust anyone, to confide in anyone, having to pretend to be somebody you’re not. How did you deal with it?”

  Corelli shrugged. Her smile showed her sadness. “You do what you have to do to survive, to do the job you’re asked to do.”

  “You could have said no. Why didn’t you?”

  “Being undercover and investigating my friends and colleagues is one of the most difficult things I have ever done. It was harder than being in Iraq or Afghanistan. But I believe the NYPD is the greatest police department in the world. Most cops are honest and risk their lives every day to make New York safe for citizens and visitors. Dirty cops hurt us all, other police and the citizens we swear to protect.”

  “I’m sure that’s true. But why you, Detective Corelli? Why take on an assignment no one else would do? Why put yourself in incredible danger?”

  Corelli leaned forward. “I believe it’s important to do the right thing regardless of the consequences, to live with integrity, to be the best that I can. In this case, I believed the right thing was to eliminate the small number of corrupt police in order to protect and defend the integrity of the police department.”

  “But instead of being thanked by your fellow police officers, they’re ostracizing you. Being on the other side of that famous blue wall must feel terrible.”

  “It doesn’t feel great, but my eyes were open when I accepted the assignment. I knew if I made it out alive, I would see a lot of blue backs during the rest of my career.”

  “If you made it out alive?”

  “It’s the risk every police officer takes every time they report for duty.”

  “You were undercover three months. Why did it end?”

  “I was ordered to kill to prove my loyalty so I could move up to the next level in the criminal organization. Rather than kill, I aborted the operation. Unfortunately, that meant I never learned the names of the people running things.”

  “But you must have killed in Iraq and Afghanistan? Or on the job?”

  “Yes, I did. It wasn’t easy. But in war it’s kill or be killed. I killed to protect myself or members of my group or civilians who were being threatened. I’ve never killed in cold blood.”

  Darla shuffled her papers, giving the viewers a few seconds to absorb the comment. “Detective Corelli, earlier you said you aborted the undercover investigation without learning the names of the upper echelon. So there are still police out there who were key members of Righteous Partners, as I think they called themselves. Does that mean you’re in danger?”

  “I believe we got all of them in a later operation. But, being a cop is dangerous. The fallout from the undercover assignment just enhances the danger somewhat.”

  “Are you afraid?”

  “I’m watchful, but I don’t let fear rule my life.”

  “Just a few more questions, Detective. How is it that you were assigned to the del Balzo investigation?”

  “The luck of the draw. Detective P.J. Parker and I were the only detectives available when the call came in.”

  “Are you getting the cooperation you need from your colleagues?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you wouldn’t tell me if you weren’t. Right?”

  Corelli smiled but didn’t respond.

  “Speaking of danger, the media seems to be stalking you. As you know, WNYN did a brief segment earlier tonight showing a large number of our competitors in the New York City media attacking you. Viewers who haven’t seen the clip may want to stay tuned to see it later in this hour.”

  Darla smiled. “Thank you so much, Detective Chiara Corelli, for taking the time out of what I can imagine is a very busy schedule, to talk with us tonight. I hope we can do it again.” She leaned over and shook Corelli’s hand.

  “You’re welcome, Ms. North.” Corelli smiled and held Darla’s eyes.

  Bear held the camera on them for ten or so seconds before she stopped filming and turned the lights off. Tess clapped. Darla sat back. “You were terrific. Better than I expected and believe me I had high expectations. And thanks, Tess, for the use of your office. It was perfect.”

  “For Corelli, the office is yours anytime you need it. Just give me a call.”

  Darla turned to Corelli. “What about the series of interviews, Detective, um, Chiara?”

  Corelli got to her feet. “Darla, Bear, you were wonderful. My par…My sisters will be proud. If we do another, Darla, I’d like to feature some of the people I work with, the ones working on the del Balzo investigation. Maybe do one of our meetings. I’d have to clear it first. What do you think?”

  “Let me think about how to approach it,” Darla said. “And I’ll come up with some other ideas. Don’t forget to watch tonight.”

  “How’d I do, Parker?” Corelli asked, after they were in the car.

  Parker chewed her lip. “I saw a part of you I haven’t seen before. Usually, you swagger, you’re critical, impatient, angry, moody. You rarely show the gentle, sensitive, caring detective who loves the department and other police.”

  “You gonna tell Senator Daddy so he can go for my gentle, sensitive belly?”

  Parker looked as if she had been punched but she recovered quickly. “Fuck you.”

  “Abusing a superior is not allowed, Parker.” She really did enjoy pulling Parker’s chain. “Now let’s go see why Nardo’s brother-in-law lied to us.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Thursday – 9 p.m.

  Ottaviano’s face darkened. “You again. Can’t you leave us in peace?”

  Corelli pushed past him. “I will when you tell us the truth.”

  “Who’s there, Emilio?” Flavia asked in Italian from inside the apartment.

  He replied in Italian. “The detectives have a few more questions. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Ask them in,” Flavia said in English.

  A not-very-happy Emilio led them into the living room.

  Flavia’s eyes were puffy and red, but she looked less fragile than she had on their last visit. “Please sit. What more can we tell you?”

  Ottaviano sat next to his wife and draped his arm over her shoulders.

  “Actually, it’s Mr. Ottaviano who can help us. We have a witness who saw him go into Nardo’s apartment Tuesday night and we’d like to know why he lied about it.”

  Flavia pulled away from her husband.
“You saw Nardo and didn’t tell me?”

  He reached for her hand but Flavia shrank back. He flushed and looked down. “Leonardo was upset about a conversation he had with Nardo on Monday, so I went to Nardo’s apartment to try to talk some sense into him.”

  “What time was that?”

  “I don’t know exactly. Around seven?”

  “What did they argue about?”

  He stiffened. “I only know Nardo threatened to destroy the ambassador’s chance to be prime minister. I was trying to stop him from doing something that would embarrass us all.”

  “Did the ambassador ask you to speak to him?”

  “No, Carla asked me to intervene.”

  “How did Nardo seem?”

  “Surprised but pleased that I had come. But when I brought up the argument he got angry, told me to mind my own business. We had words and I left.”

  “What was he wearing?”

  “Wearing?” He thought for a second. “Um, jeans and a T-shirt.”

  “Do you know where Nardo kept his gun?”

  He looked puzzled. “I didn’t know he had one.”

  “What did you do when you left Nardo’s apartment?”

  “I went to La Cucina Bella to meet Flavia. We had an eight o’clock dinner reservation.”

  “Did you speak to your in-laws?”

  “Only Carla, when I called to tell her what happened.”

  “Was Mrs. del Balzo upset?”

  “Of course. She felt pulled between Nardo and Leonardo. Afraid Nardo would do something stupid to interfere with Leonardo’s chance of being prime minister.”

  “Why did you lie to us?”

  He brushed his hair back, then glanced at Flavia. “I was afraid you would think I killed him.”

  He walked them to the door. Corelli moved in close, forcing him to look up at her. “Lying wastes my time and distracts me from tracking the killer. Do it again and I’ll throw your ass in jail so fast you won’t know what happened.”

  Corelli gave Parker directions to Gianna’s house and stared out the passenger window as they drove.

  Parker tapped the steering wheel. “You sounded like you wanted to kill Ottaviano.”

  Corelli’s head swung back toward Parker. “I do. I could. I’m so freakin’ tired of people lying and hiding things and playing games, complicating things that are already difficult.” She cupped her hands over her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “And, you, Ms. Fancy-pants ADA? You think it’s okay?”

  Parker’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I won’t waste my breath answering that one.”

  They found parking right away on Gianna’s block. Corelli knew she was on edge. Gianna would calm her, help her center so she could think clearly.

  “What a surprise.” Gianna hugged Corelli, then Parker. “Nice to see you again, P.J.”

  “We were in Brooklyn, so we thought we’d drop in for a cup of coffee and something good to eat.” Corelli cocked her head. “But it sounds like you have company.”

  Gianna flushed. She took Corelli’s hand. “Zia Marina and Patrizia.”

  Corelli made a face. Oh great, the dynamic duo: the sister who preached being a cop is no job for a woman and the aunt whose mantra was ‘a real woman gets married and takes care of her family.’ Her father, at least, just acted like she was invisible, but these two never stopped nagging and criticizing. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Zia Marina’s life work seemed to be finding a husband for Corelli. She always had some good man from Italy lined up. Corelli avoided any contact with her and no longer responded to her calls.

  “Another candidate?”

  “Um, yes. That guy from the UN.”

  The two detectives exchanged a look. “Sansone?” they said, in unison.

  She nodded. “He was at Zia Marina’s house last evening.”

  “He what?”

  “She called me this morning, all excited. She said she needed my help on something important but she wouldn’t tell me what.” She lowered her voice. “They just got here a little while ago. Someone introduced him to her. Sansone told her he had met you and found you very attractive, but he wanted to do things the right way, so he was hoping for family approval and a formal introduction. Of course, Zia Marina was thrilled that an Italian man like Sansone was interested in you. She told him about Uncle Genaro leaving you the building and a lot of money, so he would be willing to put up with your stubbornness and unwomanly behavior.”

  Parker coughed. “I’ll wait outside.” She started toward the door.

  Too late for that. “Stay. You already know most of it.”

  Corelli dropped Gianna’s hand. “And you’re going along with this?” Corelli’s voice was hard. “I expect better of you, especially after our discussion last night.”

  “They just got here. I’m not going along with anything. I know how you feel about—”

  “Go back to your company,” Corelli said. “Let’s get out of here, Parker.” She pushed past Gianna and walked out the door.

  “Sorry, Gianna, she’s kind of on edge tonight.” Parker ran to catch up to Corelli.

  Corelli kept her eyes straight ahead as Parker climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car. She was used to Patrizia and Zia Marina treating her like a pawn in their marriage game, but Gianna’s betrayal hurt. And she would kill Sansone for violating her privacy. She could feel Parker’s concern, but she needed a few minutes to get control before she could discuss this situation. Parker headed for the Belt Parkway.

  Corelli broke the silence. “Now you know I own the building I live in.”

  Parker cleared her throat. “You told me in the airport in West Virginia, when your super was attacked.”

  “Right. I forgot.” Corelli felt tension in her arms and realized both hands were fisted. “I’m ready to kill Mr. Blazing Teeth, worming his way into my life.”

  “Patrizia, I know. Who’s this sea-ah person?”

  “My father’s oldest sister. The two of them won’t be happy until I’m married and staying at home serving a husband and children.” She grimaced. “Too bad it’s never going to happen.”

  “How did he find her?”

  “It sounds like he has ties in the Italian community. A few phone calls—and Zia Marina welcomes him with open arms. The real question is why would he drag my family into this?”

  “Maybe he finds you attractive.”

  “And maybe he’s trying to complicate the case, throw up a smokescreen. But I can’t see the benefit of leveraging the Italian connection. Does he think he can seduce me and control the investigation or maybe get me thrown off the case?”

  Patrizia and Zia Marina were too old fashioned to understand, but how could Gianna, her closest friend and confidant, the person in the world who knew her best, join the enemy? She closed her eyes, leaned her head against the seat, and didn’t say another word until Parker pulled up to her building.

  “Don’t forget we’re going after Ginocchioni tomorrow morning. Pick me up at six.”

  Damn, she’d let her exhaustion come through in her voice. Parker shifted to face her then glanced at the clock on the dashboard. The last thing she needed right now was a PTSD lecture from Parker. “We have a murder to solve, Parker, and that’s our priority, not sleep.” She sighed. “Don’t wait for me to get in. It’s late and the bad guys are all asleep.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  They went through this every night. “Suit yourself.”

  At the door to her building, Corelli glanced back. Parker only considered her safe after she was in the elevator with the doors closed, so she was standing by the car, eyes scanning for danger. Why did she give Parker a hard time? It was her job, after all. Yet she, Corelli, had proved she could take care of herself, hadn’t she? She didn’t need anyone and resented having a babysitter. But, orders are orders. She shoved the key in the lock but pulled back at the sudden pricking in her calves. What the…? She grinned.

  “Where did you guys come from?” She crouc
hed to pet the two kittens attacking her.

  Thwack.

  “Shooter. Get down!” Parker shouted.

  Luckily she was down already. The windows exploded. Glass bit at her face.

  Thwack.

  She drew her gun, grabbed the kittens, and rolled into the shrubbery, behind the tree. Her vision was blurred. She rubbed her eyes. Shit. Blood.

  Thwack. Thwack. More shots. Bark exploded around her. She covered her eyes. Could he see her behind the tree? Night goggles. She crawled further, behind the garbage bins. With her gun clasped in two hands in front of her, she tried to locate the shooter to return fire. A flash from the building across the way. The shooter or someone putting on a light. She couldn’t tell.

  “Officer down, officer down!” Parker shouted.

  Parker must be hurt and calling it in.

  “Where are you, Parker?” she yelled, frantic to get to her. She blinked to clear her eyes, but she couldn’t see her.

  “Parker,” she yelled again.

  “Under the car.”

  “Are you hit?”

  Thwack. Another shot. Where the hell is the shooter?

  Sirens. Near. Police cars filled the street and suddenly the only noise was the staccato reports from the radios.

  Parker slid out from under the car. No obvious wounds. Police gathered around her and she gesticulated toward the building across the street. Orders were given to search that building and others nearby and the police dispersed.

  Corelli took some deep breaths, gearing up to deal with the fallout from the attack. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to face the media. As her adrenaline settled, she became aware of the kittens wrestling on her back.

  Parker crouched in front of her. “Where did he hit you?”

  “I’m not hit. I thought you were.”

  “You sure? You’re bleeding like a stuck pig,” Parker said, dabbing Corelli’s face with a clean white handkerchief. “And your hair is full of blood.”

  Corelli touched her head and looked at her fingers. “Must have been the glass when it shattered. Scalp wounds always bleed a lot.”