Chapter 15 - A Statement That Could Not Be Taken Back
Salvatore met with prosecutors and investigators in a plain room that offered no view of the harbor. His attorney sat beside him. Judith Reese's records were stacked in numbered boxes, and the recording system was already running when the questions began.
He described Pierpoint's structure, the guarantees he had signed, Nico's authority to collect debts, and the years when he had declined to examine what aggressive collection actually meant. He did not pretend that saying “I didn't know” settled anything.
Then an investigator asked about Fulton Row.
“I gave the order to pressure the tenant council,” Sal said. “I was told there'd be no violence. When the fire happened, I knew Nico had been sent there. I let our attorneys control what we disclosed. I didn't ask the right questions because I was afraid of the answers.”
“Did you order the fire?”
“No.”
“Did you protect the men who may have caused it?”
Sal swallowed. “Yes.”
His attorney told him to distinguish what he knew from what he suspected. Sal did so, carefully, even when the distinction made his conduct sound worse. No confession could bring Teresa Reyes back or automatically establish another man's guilt. The investigators would have to follow the evidence.
By the time the interview ended, Sal had disclosed information that might expose him to civil claims and further criminal investigation. He looked at his hands, expecting them to feel different. They didn't.
Across the city, Lila attended a meeting with former diner workers. Tasha had decided to join the wage complaint under her own name. Ray brought receipts for the hours he had worked. Curtis had consented to release payroll files through counsel.
Afterward, Lila walked with Tasha toward the subway.
“I was furious with you,” Tasha said.
“You had every right.”
“I'm still a little furious.”
“I know.”
“But my kids saw me stand up for myself today. I want them to remember that part.”
Lila smiled, careful not to turn someone else's bravery into evidence that she had been right all along.
That evening, Sal asked to see her. They met in Nora's building lobby, where he had no authority to tell anyone else to leave.
“I told them about Fulton Row,” he said.
“Everything?”
“Everything I can remember. Including the agreements we made with families after the fire.”
“You paid them?”
“We paid settlements. We denied wrongdoing. We asked for confidentiality.”
Lila felt heat flood her face. “You knew enough to pay people not to talk.”
May you like
Sal held her gaze. “Yes.”
For a moment she wanted to pull the necklace off and throw it at him. Instead she closed the lobby door between them and climbed the stairs alone.
