Page 71 of Dark Romeo

Did Roman Tyrell Kill His Own Mother?

My stomach turned as I read, unable to stop. Police believed that Roman Tyrell held the key to solving his mother’s murder. Why wouldn’t Roman speak up? Was he protecting someone? Or was he the one hiding the violent secret? Like father, like son.

I swallowed my anger down. How could the papers even speculate that a twelve-year-old boy could do something like this? Roman Tyrell had not even been a teenager before this city began to persecute him, all because of who his father was.

What about Maria Tyrell? Roman spoke of a gentle, kind woman when he spoke about her. I stared at a black and white photo of Maria. Her thick dark hair was a wave that tumbled over her shoulders, framing a sweetheart face. She had been a beautiful lady with a wide warm smile; the same smile as Roman’s. My heart clenched.

I dug through the digital records and found the file on the massacre at the docks where Jacob Tyrell, Roman’s brother, had been slain. The “dirty docks massacre”, the newspapers had called it. I glanced around, making sure I was still alone before I began to click through the crime scene photographs. A single gunshot wound on each body, a V slashed into each of their chests. It had been without a doubt a professional hit.

Except for Jacob.

Jacob Tyrell, wanted for murder and gone underground for four years, had been found dead in a converted apartment on the top floor of one of the buildings. There was a V on his chest like the others, but he’d also taken a beating before he had died. An entire clip of bullets had been released into his torso and he had a stab wound to his leg. It had been personal. It left no doubt that the massacre had occurred to target Jacob.

So much violence. How much blood could a man’s life be bathed in before the darkness began to soak into his soul?

Roman’s words to me kept echoing in my brain. “My family is…complicated. I didn’t want to be a part of it. I wanted to be my own person.”

This was why Roman had left Verona all those years ago. This was why he wanted to return to London after his brother’s funeral. But he hadn’t returned to Europe. He stayed in Verona. Why had he changed his mind? Had he given up trying to fight his family legacy?

Or was there some other reason?

Maybe we were looking at this wrong. Maybe, it wasn’t his father who was lying for Roman, but Roman who was lying for his father.

I slipped into the empty tech room. One side of the room was covered in large monitors, a curved control station with more buttons, panels and keyboards than a spaceship command center. I had spent hours in here beside the techies, scouring through traffic cameras around Vinnie’s dump site. I knew how to handle the controls, at least enough to be able to access the city’s traffic camera footage. If I could somehow trace Roman’s steps from the hotel to wherever he went that night, maybe I could prove that he hadn’t been with his father. Maybe I could tear his father’s alibi apart.

In the interview, Roman had said that his friend Mercutio had picked him up and dropped him off at his father’s. From a DMV search of Mercutio Brevio, I knew that he had a black Ford Taurus registered to him. I wrote his license plate number on a piece of paper beside me.

I couldn’t see which way Roman had left the hotel. We hadn’t gotten the security tapes from the Marriott Hotel yet as we were still waiting on a court order. Assuming Roman had been headed to the airport, they would have turned right out of the hotel. I pulled up a map on the city’s traffic cameras on one monitor and then located one that I suspected might have caught a glimpse of him.

I lined up the time to seven ten p.m. that Sunday, just as Roman would have been saying goodbye to me. And hit play. The seconds ticked over as I stared at the grainy screen, eyeing the various cars that passed the intersection. I spotted what looked like a Ford Taurus and hit pause. I leaned in towards the screen. I could see two figures in the front seats. When I zoomed in I could make out their faces. I recognized Roman’s wide shoulders in the passenger seat. I pressed play again and watched as they drove off-screen. I turned back to the map of traffic cameras, picked out the next camera that they might pass and lined that footage up.

The work was painstaking, but I was able to follow the Ford Taurus towards the outskirts of Verona. I frowned. They really were headed to the airport. So why didn’t Roman catch his flight?

In the footage from a freeway camera mounted high on an overpass, I spotted several SUVs converging around the Ford. My skin began to prickle. One of the SUVs sped up beside Mercutio’s vehicle, then veered in front of the car to block it. The Taurus braked and skidded to a halt. A second SUV blocked the back of it. The few other cars on the road braked before merging into the left lane to get around the road blockage.

“What the hell?” I muttered.

A man got out of the front SUV. I paused it and zoomed in, squinting at his face. My eyes widened when I saw the scar cutting across his left side. Scarface. The man from the cemetery.

He had a gun in his hand.

I zoomed out and hit play. The passenger door of the Taurus opened and Roman stepped out of the car. Seeing him, even in black and white, caused something to tug in my chest. A limo drove up in the left lane and stopped beside them. Scarface pointed his gun towards Roman. I watched in disbelief as Roman got into the back of the limo. Scarface got into the front. The convoy drove off.

Roman had been kidnapped. By whom? Who were these men? Who was Scarface?

Did something happen to Roman to get him involved with Vinnie? Why did his father claim that they were having dinner?

I ran the license plate of the black limo. The hairs on my arms rose when I read the registration details.

Tyrell Industries.

Giovanni Tyrell had kidnapped Roman on the way to the airport. But why?

I followed the convoy through the traffic cameras. I lost them soon after they turned off the highway. I sank back into my chair.

“I’m running away from my father.”

What if Roman didn’t want to live the life his family did? What if that’s why he left Verona? What if Vinnie’s murder was something Roman got pulled into?

---