Note: Here we are, folks, at the last chapter before the two- chapter conclusion. This chapter is dedicated to the talented author Drumboy100 (and BF!) who helped me with some of the "in the know" Atlantic City details. All credit to these minute details that establish the setting go to her! Thanks for sticking with the story and for your support, which has meant so much to me. For your reviews on the last chapter, many thanks to Hero 76, Paulina Ann, Drumboy100, Frankenstein's Bride, Caranath, EvergreenDreamweaver, hbndgirl, candylou, MooninScorpio, HighFlyer, sm2003495, BMSH, ChrisCorso, max2013, and Erin Jordan. I so enjoy hearing what you all have to say- you make me think! Enjoy! :)

Relative Fortune

Chapter 35

Joe looked at Biff for a quick moment before knocking on the door to Gil Young's townhouse at 11:00 as scheduled. He waited, a bit nervous, to speak with the man who might be able to provide him with some insight into what had really gone down with Vanessa's father a quarter of a century ago. Finally the door opened, and a distinguished-looking man with salt and pepper hair who looked to be close to sixty smiled at him.

"Joe?" he asked.

"Mr. Young," Joe replied, returning the grin. "Thank you for seeing me." He turned to Biff, who reached out to shake his hand. "This is my best friend, Biff Hooper. He's keeping me company on this trip as I try to get some answers for my wife."

"Welcome," Young replied. "Please- call me Gil. Biff, Joe- come on in." He waved them into his humble and homey residence, holding out his hand as he indicated for them to take a seat.

"So how can I help you?" he asked kindly. "I must admit I was intrigued when I received your call. I haven't heard the name Bender in a long, long time."

"Well, sir," Joe began, sincerely, "there seems to be a lot of uncertainty relating to how he died and what actually happened." He launched into the whole story, and saw that Gil was watching him and listening closely. He ended with, "so, you see, my wife is pregnant with our second baby, and she, along with my mother-in-law, Andrea, need some answers. I know they'll be difficult to get, since he died so long ago and the circumstances are sketchy at best. I was hoping you could tell me about him; what you know."

Gil paused for a few minutes before answering, and Joe tried to breathe evenly and to remain patient. He had only the truth on his side, which, though sparse, was something. And he had no agenda other than to get answers for his family, whatever those answers would turn out to be.

"I don't know too much, son," he said at last. "But I'll tell you what I know, and tell you my opinion, for what it's worth."

"Please. That would be great," Joe encouraged him.

"Vinnie was a good man," he started out, slowly, and Joe released a small breath he hadn't realized that he had been holding. "I only met him for a few weeks all those years ago, but I remember that he was very bright and personable. I met him quite by accident. At the time, I was an Atlantic City cop. The city isn't big- only about 17 miles," he went on, steadily, "and it can seem glamorous on the strip with the casinos, concerts, shows, and shopping. But it's also a cesspool of violence, drugs, prostitution; there is a serious homeless issue and it is a very dangerous area. You can see for yourself the extent of poverty once you get off the main strip. Even now, casinos are shutting down as internet gambling, as well as casinos in Pennsylvania, have given the city serious competition in the last decade."

"Yeah, I know it's been hurting a lot and there have been marketing campaigns designed to get people back," Biff cut in. "Wasn't a slogan DO AC?" he asked.

Gil smiled. "Yes, indeed," he answered.

Joe smiled. Leave it to Biff to know about gambling and logos with innuendo.

"I knew that Vinnie was a federal agent. That wasn't totally classified, because he would need support from the locals to really infiltrate the casinos and get a feel for the city and its...culture," he added, after thinking of the correct word. "He met with me and my supervisor, along with my partner, who has since passed away. I knew that his mission was to work undercover at the Tropicana. He was trying to infiltrate a mafia monopoly at the casino. Everyone knew the mob ran that casino. When you get the mob, you get threats, tax evasion, money laundering… nothing good. He went in for a few weeks, reported what was going on to us and his supervisor. The guy was razor sharp with figures, and he had starting gathering evidence through tax receipts and people talking. Let me tell you, the guy left no stone un-turned. He knew where to hang out, talked to the locals. I remember that he would walk around Ducktown, where the Italians gathered back in the day. He even figured out that Angelo's and Angelini's was where the mafia ate-everybody knew which tables they sat at and knew not to sit there, but no one told him directly. He determined that on his own." He smiled before continuing. "I mean, he was really damned good at his job. He told me once that the celebrities who used to eat at the White House Sub Shop were talkers and many of them were involved in "the life," you know?" He chuckled as a memory seemed to hit him. "He was down to earth. Real nice. We used to argue over the merits of the pizza at Tony's Baltimore Grill, which-trust me- is the best pizza on the east coast. He said it tasted like cardboard, though. Weird how you remember random facts like that. Anyway, he was making a huge dent in the case. Then one day- he died. And I never heard about him again."

"What happened?" Joe asked, desperate to soak up as much information as he could. As much as he needed to know more, he committed to memory every detail that Gil noted, knowing how much these little anecdotes would mean to Vanessa and Andrea.

Gil's face took on a somber tone. "His supervisor, a guy named O'Malley, who is also now deceased, was a son of a bitch. I never liked the guy, and he had a bad reputation in the inner circles. Some people thought he was actually in collusion with the mafia, because he drove around in an expensive car, wore expensive clothing- didn't act like someone on a fed's salary."

Joe's hung on every word. "Gil... tell me what you think happened. Please. It'll give me something to go on."

Gil shrugged, shaking his head disdainfully. "What I think happened is that Vinnie Bender got in over his head. My own theory is that the damned feds set him up as the fall guy."

"Meaning?" Joe asked.

"Meaning that the feds were getting a cut of the mob's profits," he said with disgust. "They HAD to investigate, so they send in a young agent with only a few years on the job to find out a few facts, report back, and then move on- maybe take out a low level member or two to seem successful. Only they didn't count on him being so good or above reproach. And I think that he was probably killed as a directive from the agency, itself."

Joe gasped, felt his heart pounding. He felt Biff's hand on his back.

"Son, I can't prove any of this. You'll never be able to, either. But the memory of that man has stuck with me for all of these years because he was kind and honorable and he died because someone thought he was a little too good. Then we heard rumors that he was denied a pension; that he supposedly killed someone and was actually working for the mob and taking cuts, himself." Gil sat forward, hands crossed under his chin. "I call bullshit. No freaking way. Not that guy. He'd always talk about his wife and little girl when we'd hang out; he adored them. He was so damned excited to be making a difference. That's why we tried to help his wife, tried to raise some PBA funds for his family, because the locals here- we knew that he wasn't that guy, and we were sick of the corruption. AC is still a shitty place, but it's not the epicenter of the mob anymore. I think Vinnie's death helped to change that, eventually."

Joe swallowed hard, processing all of the information.

"That's all I've got, but your tell your wife that her daddy loved her, and that, to the people who have been around a long ass time, like I have, we believe he was framed. And don't let anyone tell you otherwise, or to say that he was a coward. Know why?"

Joe shook his head. "No."

"He was shot in the front. Cowards run. Whoever killed him, he looked him in the eye and he probably put up a hell of a fight."

"Thank you," Joe said as he finished. "Thank you so much. You have no idea what your words will mean to Vanessa and Andrea."

"You tell them I'm sorry for what they endured. Corruption runs deep in every circle. I believe that most cops, most agents are good people. But times were different and when money is involved, sometimes there is collateral damage. Sometimes that damage comes in human form."

Joe stood, along with Biff, and they both thanked him again and shook hands. Then, they turned to leave. In the car, Joe leaned his head against the steering wheel for a moment. He felt Biff reach over and squeeze his forearm.

"That was a hell of a story," Biff said quietly. "It's amazing and horrible all at the same time, you know?"

Joe leaned back. "Yes, it is," he responded solemnly. He smiled a little. "But god- as hard as it's been to track him down, that guy might have just given Van and Andrea the peace they've been searching for."

"Onto stop 2?" Biff asked.

Joe just nodded, and started the car.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The day got more intense as detail after detail began to get filled in. Seamus Parker had served as Vinnie's personal driver while he was undercover in the city. His tale was quite different from Young's, but he also adamantly defended Vinnie's honor. According to Parker, Vinnie had told him that his cover was that he had been asked by his boss to deliver a new Bentley from NYC to Atlantic City for a client, where he would be posing as a shark in the casino. As a high roller, he would have access to the best of the city- literally anything he wanted. Of course, the funds would be provided by the feds, but he would need real skill to believed an expert gambler. Vinnie had told him he'd studied the scene and games for close to a year.

One the day he died, a few weeks after his arrival at the casino, Vinnie had earned the wrath of the son of one of the mafia bosses, who had taken exception to Vinnie beating him at poker. In the resulting fight, the son had gotten very drunk, tripped, and accidentally hit his head on the sharp corner of a counter, the result of which was that he died hours later. Before he had tripped, the son had taken out a gun and went to shoot him, but Vinnie had narrowly missed the errant shot. Vinnie had called his boss to let him know the turn of events.

It was all becoming more clear to Joe now. The rumors of his father-in-law killing a man were false. Anthony Garagiola had tried to kill him, and he had died accidentally.

Making matters worse, Garagiola's father had become enraged and Vinnie had heard rumors that he was now paying for a hit on his life as revenge for what he perceived to be the intentional killing of his son.

He was therefore on the run from the mafia and had known he'd had to get out. That was all that he had told Parker, along with the fact that he was certain that his boss, O'Malley, would be able to maintain his cover and smooth over the whole situation.

He was dead the next day.

By the time Joe and Biff arrived at the final interview of the day, a former convict named Lloyd Sanchez, Joe's head was spinning. He'd gotten the answers to what he had needed to know, but it only quenched his thirst for vengeance more. He was still reeling from Kirk's betrayal of the badge in the Santitori case, balanced against the surprisingly resourceful loyalty of Vogelthorpe and the heroism of officers like Pat and Sean; Chief Collig.

Sanchez had spoken candidly at his home. He had been the one to pull the trigger, and Young had been correct- Vinnie had fought hard. Sanchez, remorseful, was imprisoned for only five years for the crime.

Joe flashed to the conversation.

"You KILLED him?" He could barely control his fury. "You ADMIT it?"

"I served five years," Sanchez said, wringing his hands nervously.

"You KILLED my father -in -law!" Only Biff's grabbing his arm had prevented him from killing Sanchez himself.

"Look," Sanchez replied, unusually quiet. "I know you might not believe this, but I'm sorry. I really am."

Joe felt like he was going to snap.

"What happened?" Biff asked, the voice of reason for once. "You owe my friend an explanation at the very least."

Sanchez looked down for a long moment before continuing. "I wasn't going to meet you," he said evenly. "This is in my past; I owe nothing anymore. I paid my debt. But I never got over it. And I DO want to tell someone- finally- what happened."

"Which is what?" Biff asked. Joe didn't trust himself to talk, as Biff's hand on his arm was the only thing grounding him at the moment.

Sanchez took a deep breath. "I was a kid," he said, simply. "22 years old. I was a thug, man. Drugs, gangs- you name it. I was going nowhere fast."

"You do not have my sympathy," Joe seethed.

"I don't want it. I just want to explain. I had a bit of a reputation back in the day," he went on. "I was ruthless. One day this guy approached me and asked if I was interested in a little transaction. Hell yeah I was. He gave me the details: kill the guy- Vinnie Bender- for $50,000. It was a no brainer, man. I got the time and the place. He was there- I killed him. I got jail time, but it was only 5 years, because I was assured that someone would make sure that it seemed like self -defense."

"Did you ask who he was? You trusted someone who paid you to kill someone? That wasn't smart," Joe replied, barely keeping his voice even.

"It was one of the mafia guys- I knew that. Everyone knew they were all over, and they were scary, man. Gangs got nothing on them- they made people disappear all the time. They had the judges and law enforcement in their back pockets. I asked him how he knew that I'd be okay, and he said that the US government would thank me for my service."

Biff stayed in place as Joe walked outside and took shaky breaths. This was unbelievable. Vanessa's dad was an honorable man; a good agent. He'd been betrayed by the mafia on one hand completely by accident, but that- that he could swallow. It was his job, and he knew the risks. No, the part that turned his stomach was that Agent O'Malley had colluded with the Garagiola crime family to set up Vinnie as the fall man in a case that was ripe in corruption from the feds to the mafia to this degenerate street thug.

Suddenly, a fog started to lift. Gil Young was still angry all these years later, and Joe had a strong feeling that he would want to make it right. Seamus Parker could authenticate Young's story, and vice versa. And this guy- he seemed repentant. Maybe…..

He marched in and stood in front of Sanchez, arms crossed and eyes flashing. "You willing to make this right?" Joe asked. "You can never make up for what you did, but I can give you one chance to do the right thing."

"What?" Sanchez asked. He looked tired.

"Would you be willing to testify in court under oath that what you say is true?"

"No one would believe me, man. You've got to be kidding." His eyes were wide.

"I'm not kidding." Joe's voice was deadly calm.

"What good would it do?" Sanchez stammered. "Everyone is dead, man."

"It would do a lot of good," Joe replied evenly. "I can get other witnesses to corroborate your story. It would restore, formally, the reputation of a man whose life you took. It would allow his widow to receive his benefits. AND it would give you a chance to set the story straight and maybe get anyone else who worked with his supervisor and who is still living to pay the price for their actions, all these years later."

"I don't know," Sanchez replied, hesitantly.

"Yes or no?" Joe went back at him. "Listen, I think you're a low life piece of shit and I will never forgive you for what you did. But if it brings peace to my wife and her mother, then I'm willing to entertain the possibility. The very fact that you're alive and free and not behind bars is enough to make me sick, but you can at least try to do one good thing."

Sanchez paused for several moments, during which Joe did not move at all, staring right at him. When he looked up, Joe was stunned to see the tears in his eyes. "All right. I'll do it. And I'll make your day even better." He met Joe's eyes directly. "I have stage 4 colon cancer and I won't live a year… maybe not 6 months. So my existence won't torment you anymore. I'm truly sorry for what I did."

Joe just nodded, and walked out of the house. He saw Biff in the distance.

In the car, Joe breathed deeply and fought his own tears. He had gotten answers and he would finish this out. Sanchez, Parker, and Young: he knew he could persuade them all to testify. He would use every contact he'd ever made in the FBI and CIA, any of his dad's contacts, to help. He would get justice for Vanessa and Andrea.

A huge weight lifted from his shoulders.

As Biff sat quietly next to him, Joe took out his cell phone. Vanessa picked up after the first ring.

"Hey baby," he said softly. "I'm coming home. And I have a story for you. I'll tell you the whole thing in a few hours- make sure your mom comes to the house. But baby? Your dad loved you, sweetheart. And he was innocent."

As he heard Vanessa gasp into the phone, it was as if she took his heart and soul into her body through the air. "I think we can proudly tell Evan where that cute little dimple comes from. I'll see you soon, honey. I love you."

He hung up the phone, turned to Biff, and hugged him tightly.

Somehow, with no drama, no injuries, no real danger... and a lot of luck, a supportive best friend, and good detective work and research...he'd fulfilled his promise to his wife.

Finally, it was over.