Daylight (Atlee Pine, #3)(11)

“He won’t give things up easily,” noted Pine as they took their seats.

“Never assumed otherwise. The reverse, actually. He’s apparently got a brain, at least my sources say. He’ll want his pound of flesh for cooperating.”

“What else can you tell me about him?”

“He’s a bad guy through and through. Been in trouble since he was a teenager. Petty stuff to start, and then he rapidly graduated to more serious crimes. He’s in here after being busted for heading up a burglary ring that was targeting senior citizens. One of them was nearly beaten to death when he showed up at his own house unexpectedly. Teddy’s got a good lawyer, but he’ll still be in here for another eight years at least.”

“Does he have a relationship with Tony?”

“From what we’ve found, Teddy would never qualify as father of the year. He wasn’t around much. His mother did what she could with Tony before she called it quits and got the hell out of Dodge, but he nonetheless seems to have followed in his father’s footsteps.”

“Crime runs in the family. Teddy’s uncle was a mobster.”

“Right, the Bruno Vincenzo you mentioned before.”

Pine nodded. “And now here comes the mobster’s nephew.”

Two guards escorted Teddy Vincenzo to a seat at the table across from them.

He was about five nine, his frame hard and wiry. Corded muscles lined his forearms. He carried himself with as much confidence as anyone in leg irons could. At over fifty, he had hair that was more gray than black, and coarse in texture.

From his expression Pine could read the man clearly. He was curious but guarded. He was looking for an advantage. For anything to get him out of here at the earliest possible moment so he could get on with his criminal career.

“They said FBI and CID,” began Vincenzo, and then he stopped right there, sat back and eyed them. “To what do I owe a visit from so many alphabet letters?”

He had selected his opening move with a pawn, thought Pine. Nothing too dramatic. He was here for info, too.

Puller said, “We’re interested in your son, Tony.”

Vincenzo said nothing to this, but he also didn’t seem surprised by the statement. He looked at Pine. “And you?”

“I’m actually interested in your father, Ito.”

The inmate showed a glimmer of surprise at this request. He folded his arms over his chest. “Why?”

“I’d like to talk to him.”

“Same question.”

“He’s a person of interest in a case I’m looking into.”

“You sure you ain’t after the wrong Vincenzo brother?”

“Bruno’s dead.”

“That’s right. He took a shiv in prison for being a snitch.” He looked over his shoulder, making his point. “Is that what you want for my future?”

“Are there any other Vincenzo brothers besides Ito and Bruno?” asked Pine. “Because I couldn’t find any.”

“No, that’s it. Big Italian Catholic family, but the rest were girls. What case?”

“A kidnapping that Ito was involved in.”

“Bullshit. My old man ran an ice cream shop here in Trenton, about a half mile from our house on the strip where they had all the mom-and-pop shops. It was called Vinnie’s Creamery.”

“ ‘Vinnie’ as in . . . ?” said Pine.

“Just shortened from Vincenzo. What, you think Ito’s Creamery has a nice ring to it?”

“Okay.”

He smiled. “My old man was as pure as the driven snow. Only sold vanilla.” Vincenzo showed white teeth as he smiled at his little joke. “Sound like a kidnapper to you?”

“Circumstances can change people,” interjected Puller.

“What, you mean like Tony?”

“Like a lot of people. But, yeah, like Tony.”

“You’re Army, he’s not.”

“He works here at Fort Dix. That makes it my problem.”

“Tony’s a good boy. It’s probably a misunderstanding.” He looked dead eyed at them as he said this obvious falsehood.

“You have any idea where he might be?”

“I’m in here, he’s out there.”

“You’re saying he’s never come to visit you even though he works here?”

“I don’t remember saying anything like that.”

“How’d you come to inherit Ito’s house?” asked Pine.

Vincenzo’s gaze swiveled back to her. He seemed to enjoy the back-and-forth between the two federal officers. “I was the oldest. And my siblings couldn’t have cared less about it.”

“What about your mother?” said Pine.

“What about her?” said Vincenzo sharply.

“She’s not doing very well.”

He shrugged. “My sisters put her in a place. I wasn’t in a position to have a vote. I was locked in my own dump.”

“I’ve been to see her.”

“So, she’s really not doing good?”

“She has dementia.”

“Lot of that going around, I hear. Got some of that in here, older guys. They talk funny.”

“Your siblings live around here?” asked Puller.