Third Side of Murder

Joseph LeValley

Description

The unexpected death of a favorite cousin takes Iowa newspaper reporter Tony Harrington and his mother, Carlotta, to the Amalfi Coast of Italy for the funeral. While there, Tony learns beautiful young Noemi's fall from the seawall may not have been an accident. For days before her death, she had been stalked by a man believed to be connected to organized crime in Italy and America. Despite the warnings of everyone from his mother to the head of the local polizia, Tony is determined to identify, find, and bring to justice the man responsible for Noemi's fatal plunge. His quest takes him from Italy to New York City, where he is joined by his best friend, Doug Tenney, and where he meets and falls hard for Erica, the daughter of a real estate tycoon. Tony's relentless pursuit of the man who stalked and killed Noemi puts him and his friends in serious peril, as they provoke the anger not only of the alleged killer, but of one of New York's most powerful and ruthless crime bosses. Follow Tony on his journey through Italy and New York as he searches for the truth and risks everything to get the "The Third Side" of the story.

Sujets

• Thriller

Informations

• Publié par: Bookpress Publishing
• Date de parution: 15 mars 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781947305236
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE THIRD SIDE
OF
MURDER
JOSEPH LEVALLEY
Copyright © 2021 by Joseph LeValley. All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without prior written permission of the publisher. Requests to the publisher for permission or information should be submitted via email at [e-mail] .
Any requests or questions for the author should be submitted to him directly at [e-mail] .
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Published in Des Moines, Iowa, by:
Bookpress Publishing
P.O. Box 71532
Des Moines, IA 50325
www.BookpressPublishing.com
For Jane
“There are three sides to every story. Mine, yours, and the truth.”
― Joe Massino, reputed former boss of the Bonanno Organization
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Afterword
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1

Spring, Amalfi Coast, Southwest Italy
She was dancing on the seawall, aware she was being watched, but not aware she was being watched by him . A breeze fluttered across her face and the early rays of light welcomed her smile. As the sun rose from behind the mountain peaks, she stood on one foot and stretched the toes of her other foot toward the sky, her torso parallel to the wall. A glance to her right showed the worn stones of a street built centuries before, bordered by the blooms of spring flowers that awed the tourists who fed the cash boxes of many merchants in this seaside village. To her left, she could see the water far below, its waves pounding against the black boulders protruding from the surface. To the right, beauty, safety, happiness. To the left, an angry sea and certain death at the bottom of the abyss.
She thought it the perfect metaphor for life. Every day, a person faces choices. On one side, a clear path to health and happiness. On the other, an easy plummet to despair and death. She pondered these things with no sense of melancholy or fear, but with absolute joy. Her exuberance flowed from her confidence in her abilities as she danced atop the wall, and from her certainty about the rightness of her choices. She always chose life. How could she not? How could anyone even contemplate the alternative? With the warm spring breeze in her face, and the scent of roses calling from the carts on the street, life was the only option.
Her name was Noemi. She was twenty-six years old, raven-haired, tall, and slender, but with a dancer’s muscular tone. She was well educated, talented, and single. She preferred the term “carefree.” This village was her home, but she had traveled the world as a student, a model, and an interpreter. She enjoyed the love and support of her family, the adoration of handsome young men, and the appreciation of her employers, who were good people doing important work. Why shouldn’t she dance? She smiled broadly as she raised her torso, lowered her leg, and lifted it again in front of her, pulling it high until the flesh above the knee touched her nose. She slowly lowered the leg again, lifted her elbows, touched her fingers together, and spun full-circle on one toe.
Noemi had been on the wall many times before. People in the village had grown accustomed to seeing her there but were still enchanted when they happened past and caught the image of her spinning on her narrow stage, the morning sun serving as her spotlight.
And what of the risk of balancing atop the seawall, the very dividing line between life and death? It never occurred to Noemi to be concerned. She had trained as a dancer all her life. She had even travelled to the heart of America and spent a year learning gymnastics from, ironically, an eastern European master, simply to prove to herself that she could. As someone who could do a backflip on a four-inch-wide beam of wood, surely she should not be concerned about a two-foot-wide seawall.
If the breeze stiffened and caused her to sway, or a crack in the wall surprised her toes, it only increased the thrill of the dance. Let the sea beckon. Let death reach out of the depths with waiting arms. She chose life, and the choice was hers to make.
If she had shared this thought aloud, the man lurking in the alleyway across from the seawall might have laughed. He too was enchanted by the young beauty. He had followed her 4,000 miles, from New York City to the Amalfi Coast of Italy, because he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. He was going to have her somehow.
The man in the shadows wouldn’t have used words such as “enchanted” or “adoration.” Where he came from, it was more likely men would say he was “hot” for her and would label her with crude, unacceptable terms. The man didn’t care how anyone else chose to put into words his pursuit of the woman. Obsessed. Micky said I’m obsessed. Okay, I’m obsessed. That don’t mean I’m wrong. She’s gonna be mine.
On the wall, Noemi danced. She smiled, happy and content with her life, her choices.
Believing the choice was hers to make was Noemi’s first, and last, mistake.
Chapter 2

Orney, Iowa
The attacker’s kick just missed Tony Harrington’s left temple. Tony had anticipated the move. He couldn’t pause even an instant to congratulate himself. He jerked right and forward, leaning in and throwing a mighty left jab into the attacker’s side. Except the attacker wasn’t there. He had used the momentum of the kick to spin out of the way. Hitting nothing but air caused Tony to lunge awkwardly, lose his balance, and fall hard on his left side. His attacker was upon him in an instant, twisting his right arm behind his back, slapping the side of his head with the back of a hand, ending the spar, and claiming victory.
“Dammit,” Tony said, smiling and rising to his knees. He rubbed his left shoulder. “I’m gonna feel that one tomorrow.”
The attacker, Pak Junsuh, was the owner of Jun’s Martial Arts and Tony’s instructor in tae kwon do. He bowed graciously, also smiling, and said, “Take heart, young friend. You are much less terrible now than three months ago.”
“That’s great,” Tony said, clearly not meaning it. “The next time I’m attacked, it will take the guy ten seconds to kill me instead of five.”
The elderly Korean chuckled. “Oh no, I say at least twenty seconds.”
“Master, I respectfully suggest you shut up,” Tony said, urging his five foot, ten inch frame into a standing position. He grabbed a towel, wiped the sweat from his face, then ran it through his dark, wavy hair.
The banter was interrupted by the sounds of Big Head Todd and the Monsters erupting from Tony’s cell phone. Normally phones weren’t allowed in the dojang. However, Tony had convinced Junsuh to allow it in his case. As a reporter for the Orney Town Crier , the local daily newspaper, Tony received calls at all hours and from all types of people, including law enforcement officers and elected officials. He had explained to Junsuh that he couldn’t sign up for martial arts training unless his phone was accessible.
Junsuh had relented, but on one condition. He had required they meet for training three days each week beginning at 6:30 a.m. Junsuh believed the early sessions would at least minimize the interruptions from the accursed electronic device. Tony was half convinced the early hours would kill him before any attacker would. As an employee of a morning paper, his workday usually fell between the hours of noon and midnight.
Tony picked up the phone. He knew from the ring tone the call was from his father, Charles Harrington. It was 7:15 a.m. His father never called at this hour. It couldn’t be good. He punched the green “Answer Call” button.
“Hey, Dad. What’s happened?”
The line was quiet for an uncomfortable beat. Then his father’s rich baritone said, “I’m sorry to tell you this, Tony, but Noemi’s dead.”
Tony was stunned. It took him several moments to process what he had heard. “Noemi…my cousin Noemi? That’s not possible. How could that be? Oh, my God.” Tony felt his legs turn to rubber, and he sank to the floor.
“Tony,” his father attempted, but he sounded tired and a little hoarse. He swallowed and started again, “Tony, I’m so sorry. I know what she meant to you. She meant the world to all of us.”
“But how…?”
“We don’t know much yet. Apparently, she fell from the sea wall in Amalfi. Her body was found on the rocks below. Her mother said Noemi liked to dance on the wall.” His father started to cry. “I’m sorry…”
Tony wanted to respond but had no idea what to say. In his twenty-nine years, he had never heard his father weep.
Charles continued, saving Tony from forcing a response for which he had no words. “You know, it was just like her to dance on the wall beside the sea, heedless of the risks.”
Tony knew it was. He had seen her do it. He moaned, “Noemi… Dear God, not Noemi. She was so alive. How could anything extinguish that flame?”
His father didn’t respond, and Tony’s mind began to shift to thoughts of Noemi’s immediate family. “How is Aunt Martina? Jesus, this is going to kill her.”
“It’s hard to say. She was able to tell me what she knew. It was a struggle, but she got through it. I have no idea what the coming days will bring. Obviously she’ll have plenty to do.”
“And Mom?” Noemi was Tony’s only female cousin. Noemi’s mother, Ma