Thinking of Patrick's instructions and the envelope of cash from Rock Meyer in his desk drawer, Jonathan began to feel the weight of the situation. He turned to Joseph, who stood expressionless, and said:
"You're right. When Knapp gets back, we'll start the interrogation. Good job, son.
But next time, follow orders. Go home now. Take care of your mother and sister."
Jonathan was trying to send Joseph away. The man lying unconscious on the floor couldn't stay at the station—he'd never be able to explain that to either side. He needed Knapp, his most trusted man, to come back and quietly clean up the mess.
By now, Jonathan was cursing Carlo and his ancestors eighteen generations back.
Joseph looked deeply at his father and replied,
"Mother and Anna are already asleep. They don't need me.
But you do.
And I need my father. I don't want to visit you one day in prison."
His words hit Jonathan like a punch to the gut. He growled quietly:
"You don't understand. This isn't something I can get involved in. And neither can you. You've stirred up something too big.
Go home. Let me clean up this damned mess."
"And how do you plan to do that? Hand him over to Carlo?"
Joseph didn't back down. He took a step forward, his voice cold, cutting off any response from his father:
"Doat wasn't some traveler mauled by a bear in the forest. He was the town's beloved fool.
Have you thought about what it would mean for your credibility if you fail to crack this case?
Have you considered that if you get rid of this guy now, you're handing Carlo the ultimate blackmail card?
Oh sure, maybe you're not afraid of Carlo. But what about Rock Meyer?
When he uses this to force you into more, what will you do then?"
Joseph's words crashed down like a storm. Jonathan's mind went blank.
He couldn't understand how the son he'd always dismissed had suddenly grown so sharp.
He also didn't have time to wonder how Joseph had figured out the connection between Carlo, Meyer, and the unconscious killer.
All he could do was mutter:
"Patrick would never allow it."
"He wouldn't allow Meyer to use this against you?
Wasn't he the one who betrayed his old friend Michael to protect that damn lumber deal?
What makes you think you'd be any different?"
As soon as Joseph finished, Jonathan's expression changed completely. His face turned calm—too calm.
Because he knew Joseph had said something wrong.
Jonathan knew that Patrick and Meyer were not allies. They were never on the same level.
This time, Meyer had gone begging to Patrick.
That key difference in information gave Jonathan a sudden surge of confidence. He said slowly:
"You've grown, Joseph. You've even learned how to bluff your old man.
I'm proud that you're beginning to understand how the world really works.
But you're still too naive. This is more complicated than you think.
Still, you've reminded me—this isn't my mistake to pay for. I'll call Patrick. He'll decide how to handle this."
Then he added, coldly,
"Now leave. Pretend you were never here. The guy on the floor? He walked in himself."
Joseph shrugged and replied,
"Then take care of yourself."
He left the police station without another word. But he didn't go home. Instead, he took several turns through back alleys, finally arriving at a shadowy corner.
From the darkness stepped Leo, dressed all in black. He saw the storm of emotions on Joseph's face and knew immediately that he had his answer.
"Boss," Joseph said, "they're not on the same side—"
But Leo raised a hand to cut him off and placed the other gently on Joseph's shoulder.
"Walk with me."
They strolled together through the silent town. After a long stretch of quiet, Leo broke it.
"Are you angry with me?"
Joseph opened his mouth. The words "no, of course not" came to his lips, but he couldn't say them.
Of course he was upset. Even though his relationship with his father wasn't close.
Even though his father had done dishonorable things.
Even though he had tried to stop his father from becoming someone's puppet...
The truth was: Leo's orders had hurt his relationship with his father, and that hurt.
As if sensing Joseph's turmoil, Leo said gently:
"Joseph, everyone in this world is just trying to survive.
Sometimes that means making choices that aren't so honorable.
Your father has his reasons. His weaknesses. That doesn't mean you have to accept them.
Especially when you had the power to help him make a better choice."
Leo's tone was soft. It was something Joseph had never heard before.
In the army, Leo had only ever spoken like a storm: furious, direct, unyielding.
Now, Joseph felt overwhelmed—almost humbled.
"Boss," Joseph asked hesitantly, "I'm confused.
My father always told me to be a righteous man. But he..."
He trailed off.
"You did the right thing tonight," Leo said.
"You protected your father's name.
But you also saw the truth—this world is messy.
And sometimes we have to make painful decisions, even if they hurt the ones closest to us."
Joseph nodded slowly. His resentment was beginning to fade.
But then he looked around—and realized something was off.
"Why are we out here in the middle of nowhere?" he asked.
Leo chuckled and pointed down the hill.
"To watch a show."
Joseph followed Leo's finger and saw lights blazing in the distance.
Meyer's villa was still brightly lit.
Inside the villa, in the well-lit drawing room, tension filled the air.
Carlo sat stiffly, his expression dark. Next to him was Johnny.
Yes—that Johnny. The one who'd messed up the hit.
And now, after Leo's counterattack, he had been summoned alongside Carlo.
Carlo could feel his position slipping.
But since he had failed, he had no right to protest.
"This time," said Meyer slowly, "there won't be any more mistakes… right?"
Johnny jumped to respond, eager to redeem himself:
"Everything's ready, Mr. Meyer. I guarantee there'll be no problems tomorrow."
Carlo cursed him silently.
He'd worked with these two long enough to know—they hated people who talked too big.
Sure enough, Meyer and Ben both frowned slightly at Johnny's boast.
They distrusted overconfidence.
Ben didn't even glance at Johnny. Instead, he turned to Carlo and asked:
"No problems… right?"