Cassidy stared at him.
“So you knew before I said his name.”
“I suspected.”
“You could have asked.”
“Yes.”
“You people make everything more complicated than it needs to be.”
Vincent almost smiled. “That may be the most accurate description of my family business I’ve heard.”
Cassidy did not smile back.
She picked up Patrick’s statement.
“What happens to Dominic?”
Vincent’s expression changed.
“Not what used to happen in rooms like this.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I have lawyers making copies of everything. The athletic commission gets the bout records. Financial investigators get the ledgers. My company’s board gets the proof that Dominic falsified internal accounts.”
“No alley?”
“No alley.”
“No broken hands?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Vincent looked at her. “Disappointed?”
“My father spent his life teaching me that knowing how to hit someone does not mean hitting them is the answer.”
That night, Dominic was suspended from every Kelletti business position pending investigation.
Within a month, the state athletic commission opened a formal review into the old bouts. Some conduct was too old to prosecute. Some financial records were not.
Dominic’s fall was not cinematic.
There was no dramatic beating under a swinging light.
There were subpoenas, accountants, interviews, and signatures.
He eventually admitted in a civil deposition that he had fabricated the theft accusation against Patrick after Patrick refused to cooperate with bout manipulation. The admission became public when the commission released its findings.
Patrick Gallagher’s name was cleared fifteen years after clearing it could no longer give him back a single fight.
Cassidy read the notice alone at her kitchen table.
Then she called Vincent.
“It’s not enough.”
“I know.”
She hated that he kept giving the right answer.
“What are you doing about the fighters who are still alive?”
“Restitution where records support it. Legal fees. Medical assistance for some of the older men.”
“And the club?”
Vincent hesitated.
“What about it?”
“You offered me fifty thousand dollars to fight you.”
“I remember.”
“Still have it?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Don’t give it to me.”
“What do you want?”
“A youth program. No betting. No private purses. Open books. Girls get the same ring time as boys.”
Silence.
Then Vincent said, “Patrick would have negotiated harder.”
Cassidy smiled for the first time.
“Add concussion screening and transportation vouchers.”
“There he is.”
