Nelson DeMille: The Gate House

Well, I’ll bet Anthony rethought that when Susan blew a hole through his chest.

Susan finished her statement by saying, “He said he was going to kill us, and I knew our lives were in danger. So when I retrieved the shotgun and told him to freeze and put his hands up, he yelled at me, ‘You’re dead, you bitch!’ Then he lunged at me and grabbed for the barrel of the shotgun.” She remembered to add, “I had no choice except to pull the trigger.”

Detective Jones, Lieutenant Kennedy, and Ms. Donnelly glanced at one another, then Detective Jones said to Susan, “Thank you.” He asked her to read her statement, which she did, then she signed it as did Detective Jones and Lieutenant Kennedy. Lieutenant Kennedy and Ms. Donnelly then excused themselves, but I stayed with Susan and Detective Jones, who asked Susan a few questions.

As Susan replied, I called her travel agent and left a message canceling our trip. Also, we weren’t able to stay in our house, which had become a crime scene, as well as a place that suddenly had bad memories attached, so I called The Creek and booked us a cottage with a late arrival.

Detective Jones then excused himself, leaving us alone in the office.

I asked Susan, “How are you doing?”

She shrugged and replied, “Tired and drained. But… I’m feeling this post-traumatic euphoria that the nurse at the hospital said I might experience.”

“I understand.” I also understood that the euphoria would wear off and that both of us had some tough times ahead. But having to deal with the investigation of what happened was ironically keeping our minds off what happened.

Detective A. J. Nastasi came into the office, and we exchanged greetings. He expressed his regrets, then he said to us, “I’ve been assigned to assist the Homicide Squad in this case.”

I nodded. It was remarkable, I thought, how quickly this case had gone from us swearing out a threat complaint against Anthony Bellarosa to homicide. But if we all really thought about it, it was inevitable that this would end with a death – though I was never sure whose death.

Detective Nastasi said, “I have some information that may interest you, if you’re up to it.”

We both nodded.

He informed us, “The All-Safe Security guard on duty here has disappeared, so we think he had a part-time job with Bell Security.” He added, “This guard probably provided Bellarosa and Rosini with the uniforms and also kept Bellarosa – or someone close to him – informed of your movements.”

I nodded. I knew this was an inside job.

Detective Nastasi continued, “Everyone assumed that Bellarosa was out of town, but we found a card key in his wallet from a motel in Queens, and the NYPD checked it out, and he’s been there for the last week under an assumed name.” He added, “We found a Chevy Capri parked near his house – one of about twenty cars that are leased by Bell Enterprises – and we’re assuming this was the car he used this week.”

I nodded again. The best place to hide is under everyone’s nose. Anthony Bellarosa, as I said, was not the brightest guy on the planet, but like all predators, he could easily adapt his hunting skills to outwit people who were hunting him . And then, of course, he turned and became the hunter again.

Detective Nastasi further informed us, “It appears, too, that the Bell Security guard at Alhambra Estates let Bellarosa know that there was no police stakeout at his house, and Anthony drove into Alhambra Estates, parked his car a few hundred yards from his house, then we think he walked through his own property, probably with Tony Rosini, and kept going until he got here.”

I recalled the aerial view of the property that I’d seen on the Web site. I’d always known this was a possibility, though I’d hoped that the perimeter security for Stanhope Hall would be in place by the time we returned from Europe. Regardless, Anthony Bellarosa would have found his way to Susan, sometime, someplace.

Detective Nastasi said, “As for Tony Rosini, we picked him up at the Bellarosa residence – he apparently has a room there in the basement – and he said he was there waiting for his boss to call for a pickup. That’s all he knows.” Nastasi added, “As of now, he’s being held as an accessory to a number of felonies.” He said to Susan, “Early tomorrow, you’ll need to identify him in a lineup as the man who accompanied Anthony Bella-rosa. Then we can charge him.”

Susan nodded.

Detective Nastasi let us know, “The fact that the alleged perpetrator has died will make this investigation and the resolution of this case a little simpler and faster than if he’d survived.”

True. Dead thugs tell no tales, and they can’t make statements to the press or to the police that contradicted statements made by their victims. Most importantly, Anthony was not coming back.

Nastasi asked us, “Do you have any questions about what is happening or what will happen with this case?”

Susan asked him, “How long will you need us to be available?”

He replied, “A month or two, although that’s not my decision to make.”

Susan informed him, “We’re getting married the second Saturday in August, then we’re going on a honeymoon.”

He nodded and said, “Congratulations.” He added, “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

“No, it won’t be.” Lady Stanhope then inquired, “Where is my car?”

He replied, “It hasn’t turned up, but I guess Rosini knows where it is. When we find it, we’ll need to hold it until the crime lab is through with it.”

She nodded, then asked, “When can we return to our house?”

“In a day or so.”

I didn’t think Susan actually wanted to return so soon, but if or when we did, we both knew it would be temporary. After we survived the media circus, and got through the criminal investigation, we would sell the guest cottage to Amir Nasim and go someplace else. Where, I didn’t know – maybe we’d throw a dart at a map of the world.

Detective Nastasi broke into my thoughts and said to Susan, “I believe that the grand jury will come back with a finding of justifiable homicide. So don’t worry about that.” He suggested, “Find a place to stay tonight, keep in touch, and tomorrow morning we’ll do that lineup.” He concluded, “Detective Jones says we don’t need you here any longer.”

We thanked him, shook hands, and another detective escorted us to our bedroom, which was still filled with crime scene investigators. A photographer was taking pictures of the blood and of Anthony’s chalk outline on the carpet.

We packed a few items in overnight bags and went back downstairs.

I was surprised to see FBI Special Agent Felix Mancuso waiting for us in the foyer, and it was an awkward moment. He first inquired of Susan how she was doing, and she replied, “I’m all right.”

He got right to the point and said, “Well, I feel as though I’d misled you regarding Anthony Bellarosa’s whereabouts and his intentions.” He added, “I never believed he’d do this himself.”

I replied, “Don’t worry about it, Mr. Mancuso. We all made some educated guesses, and some of them were wrong.” I added, “We appreciate what you did, and your personal interest in this matter.”

“That’s very kind of you.” But I could see that he was still vexed, and he admitted, “I wasn’t understanding Anthony Bellarosa… I didn’t understand how driven he was by hate… and by this ancient concept of blood for blood.” He added, “We don’t see much of that anymore in our nice, civilized society, but I’m seeing it in my new job.”

I could have told Felix Mancuso that the veneer of civilization was, indeed, very thin, but he knew that, and yet, like all of us, he was constantly surprised when the old Beast reared its ugly head. I said to him, “We’re staying at Susan’s club tonight, and we’re exhausted.”