Chapter 10 - The Tape Recording That Shook the Underworld
Luca flipped open the metal lockbox and removed the micro-cassette player.
He connected the tiny machine to a portable high-output amplifier Marco placed on the stone table.
“This tape was sealed in Vault 317 at First Republic Bank on November ninth, 1994,” Luca announced to the room. “Verified by Arthur Vance, sealed with Michael Moretti’s thumbprint, and locked with the brass key sewn into the lining of the winter coat my mother bought me.”
Luca pressed PLAY.
Static hummed through the crypt. Then, Michael Moretti’s voice boomed through the subterranean chamber with absolute clarity.
“This is Michael Moretti. Supreme Head of the Moretti Family. Recorded November ninth, 1994...”
Don Falcone and Don Marzio sat up straight, their eyes widening in recognition.
“If this tape is being played before the Commission, it means Vincent Bellini has finally made his move against my son. Thirty days ago, Vincent forged customs declarations to traffic twenty tons of raw narcotics through Pier 42. When I refused to authorize the shipment, he tampered with my medication. I am dying of digitalis poisoning. Inside this lockbox are the original toxicology reports from the Zurich Medical Institute, along with the surveillance photographs of Vincent Bellini meeting with FBI Special Agent Miller at the Blue Star Diner.”
Vincent Bellini’s face went completely bloodless.
“Vincent traded my life and my family's harbor to avoid a twenty-year federal sentence for his own crimes. He is a rat. He is a murderer. And by the laws of the Five Families established in 1921, I demand the blood debt be paid in full.”
The tape ended with the heavy, shuddering breath of a dying father.
The silence in the crypt was deafening.
Don Falcone stood up slowly, his ancient eyes burning with fury as he looked across at Vincent Bellini.
“You brought federal rats into our harbor?” Falcone whispered, his voice trembling with absolute Sicilian rage. “You poisoned Michael Moretti in his own home?”
“It’s a forgery!” Vanessa screamed, panic shattering her composure. “Luca manufactured the tape! He wants to destroy my family so he doesn't have to honor the marriage agreement!”
“Look at the documents,” Luca commanded, tossing the Swiss medical certificates and the original FBI surveillance files directly onto the center of the table.
Don Marzio and Don Lombardi flipped through the yellowed pages.
“These are original Department of Justice stamps,” Lombardi declared coldly. “And Michael’s personal notary seal. It’s authentic.”
Vincent Bellini slowly pushed back his chair. His hand slid toward his jacket pocket.
“Vincent,” Falcone said with absolute finality. “Do not make this uglier than it already is.”
In a flash of sheer desperation, Vincent drew a small snub-nosed revolver. But he didn’t aim at Luca.
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He aimed directly at me.
“If I burn, we all burn!” Vincent roared, pulling the trigger.
