I could see that Ms. Donnelly, too young to be hardened yet by stories of human depravity, was visibly upset. I thought of Carolyn and wondered what a few more years in the Brooklyn DA’s office would do to her.
Susan, too, was becoming upset at this point in her story, but she took a deep breath and pushed on. She said, “Bellarosa tied me facedown on the bed, then used a belt – I think John’s belt – to beat me on the buttocks…”
I stood and said, “I haven’t heard this, and I don’t need to. Please let me know when Mrs. Sutter comes to the point where I enter the bedroom.”
I left the office and went outside for some air. By now, there were a half dozen police cars in the forecourt and a number of crime scene vehicles, but the ambulance was gone, and I assumed that they’d taken Anthony’s body to the morgue. Well, I thought, if they didn’t take too long with the autopsy, then Anthony and Uncle Sal could be waked together, maybe in the same funeral home in Brooklyn where Frank had reposed. And then – if the Brooklyn Diocese had no objections – they’d have a double funeral Mass at Santa Lucia, and a double burial in the church cemetery. Wouldn’t that be ironic? Or at least convenient for friends and family. In any case, I’d skip those funerals.
A uniformed officer found me and escorted me back into the office.
Susan picked up her story by saying, “I was hoping that John figured out that something was wrong and that he’d called the police… but then I heard Anthony’s voice in the hall and another voice, and when I realized it was John, my heart sank…”
I sat and listened to Susan describing from her perspective what happened in the bedroom. Her story and mine differed only in regard to what she was thinking. She stated, for instance, “As I said before, Bellarosa told me that the first thing that would happen when John got there was that he was going to make me kneel on the floor and give him… oral sex. So I knew I could… bite him and he’d be in such pain that I could roll under the bed and retrieve the shotgun that I’d put there.” She let everyone know, “He made John handcuff himself to the radiator, but he didn’t think I was a threat to him.”
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.