here soon.”
“Okay,” Mike agreed.
“Like within ten minutes,” Shelly responded, underlining the urgency.
Ringing off with Shelly, Mike dialed his wife and tersely explained the situation. He said he was going with them.
“Do they want it to be just the immediate family?” Maria asked.
“No, no,” Michael replied, explaining that Steve Yandoli and Janet Monteforte would be there, too. Sighing, he said it would be up to her if she wanted to go with him. “Believe me,” he added, “I don’t want to be there.”
“I’ll go,” Maria said. “Come and get me.”
“All right,” Michael said.
“I love you,” said Maria.
“I love you, too,” said Michael. “Bye.”
What they told Charles and Dorothy has not been revealed. It also is not known if Chuck was there, but he likely was not. That Tuesday, January 2, was a busy day for him.
First he went to the bank and got a certified check for $10,000, delving into the $82,000 in Carol’s life insurance that he had collected a few weeks earlier. Then he took the check and Carol’s blue Toyota to a car dealer, where he used both the check and the trade-in value of the Toyota to buy a $22,277 new Nissan Maxima, which he drove off the lot. From there he went to a jewelry store in suburban Peabody and paid cash for a $250 gold brooch. Debbie Allen’s twenty-third birthday was the next day, and there has been speculation that he bought the pin for her, whether he actually presented it to her or not. She denied she ever received it. From there he went to a second jewelry store and bought a pair of diamond earrings for $1,000. Apparently they were a gift for his mother.
What he did for the rest of the day is uncertain. Maybe he went drinking with friends. Maybe he rendezvoused with Debbie Allen. Maybe he went back to his house in Reading and played with the Labs, Max and Midnight. Maybe he went to his old church and prayed. Maybe he visited Carol’s grave. What he did not do was go to the police, even though he almost surely knew that Matthew was going to the district attorney’s office in twelve hours.
Whatever Chuck did, it may have been the last time he did it. In a little more than thirty-six hours he would be dead.
Chapter 10
January 3, 1990
Late in the afternoon, Matthew went to the district attorney’s office, just as he had told his family he would. With him was his lawyer, John Perenyi, and his best friend, John “Jack” McMahon, a youth Matthew’s age who made his living fixing vending machines. Prosecutors knew he was coming; Perenyi had paved the way for the visit. Although the lawyer had given the assistant district attorneys a synopsis of what Matthew had to say, they wanted to hear it from Matthew himself. The district attorney’s office has refused to share its record of the meeting. But as best as can be determined, this is what was said:
A few weeks before the October 23 shooting, Chuck approached Matthew with an offer for a deal. Matthew was a little surprised by Chuck’s friendliness because his brother had not been speaking to him for almost two years. Nevertheless he decided to listen. Although Chuck tended to be dictatorial, Matthew could not help but admire him. Chuck had gone farther than any of his other brothers—in fact, farther than anyone he knew. Most of the guys he had grown up with on the block, and their brothers, were still living in Revere, many of them still in their boyhood rooms in back of their parents’ houses. If they worked at all, they had jobs that paid little better than minimum wage. But Chuck, without benefit of a college education—indeed without even a proper high school education—had landed a top job at one of the city’s swankiest shops. He lived in a luxurious home in a well-to-do suburb, he dressed like a model in GQ , he traveled abroad, and he brought home more money in a year, not counting Carol’s salary, than Matthew could earn in seven. Chuck, he figured, must know something he
“Okay,” Mike agreed.
“Like within ten minutes,” Shelly responded, underlining the urgency.
Ringing off with Shelly, Mike dialed his wife and tersely explained the situation. He said he was going with them.
“Do they want it to be just the immediate family?” Maria asked.
“No, no,” Michael replied, explaining that Steve Yandoli and Janet Monteforte would be there, too. Sighing, he said it would be up to her if she wanted to go with him. “Believe me,” he added, “I don’t want to be there.”
“I’ll go,” Maria said. “Come and get me.”
“All right,” Michael said.
“I love you,” said Maria.
“I love you, too,” said Michael. “Bye.”
What they told Charles and Dorothy has not been revealed. It also is not known if Chuck was there, but he likely was not. That Tuesday, January 2, was a busy day for him.
First he went to the bank and got a certified check for $10,000, delving into the $82,000 in Carol’s life insurance that he had collected a few weeks earlier. Then he took the check and Carol’s blue Toyota to a car dealer, where he used both the check and the trade-in value of the Toyota to buy a $22,277 new Nissan Maxima, which he drove off the lot. From there he went to a jewelry store in suburban Peabody and paid cash for a $250 gold brooch. Debbie Allen’s twenty-third birthday was the next day, and there has been speculation that he bought the pin for her, whether he actually presented it to her or not. She denied she ever received it. From there he went to a second jewelry store and bought a pair of diamond earrings for $1,000. Apparently they were a gift for his mother.
What he did for the rest of the day is uncertain. Maybe he went drinking with friends. Maybe he rendezvoused with Debbie Allen. Maybe he went back to his house in Reading and played with the Labs, Max and Midnight. Maybe he went to his old church and prayed. Maybe he visited Carol’s grave. What he did not do was go to the police, even though he almost surely knew that Matthew was going to the district attorney’s office in twelve hours.
Whatever Chuck did, it may have been the last time he did it. In a little more than thirty-six hours he would be dead.
Chapter 10
January 3, 1990
Late in the afternoon, Matthew went to the district attorney’s office, just as he had told his family he would. With him was his lawyer, John Perenyi, and his best friend, John “Jack” McMahon, a youth Matthew’s age who made his living fixing vending machines. Prosecutors knew he was coming; Perenyi had paved the way for the visit. Although the lawyer had given the assistant district attorneys a synopsis of what Matthew had to say, they wanted to hear it from Matthew himself. The district attorney’s office has refused to share its record of the meeting. But as best as can be determined, this is what was said:
A few weeks before the October 23 shooting, Chuck approached Matthew with an offer for a deal. Matthew was a little surprised by Chuck’s friendliness because his brother had not been speaking to him for almost two years. Nevertheless he decided to listen. Although Chuck tended to be dictatorial, Matthew could not help but admire him. Chuck had gone farther than any of his other brothers—in fact, farther than anyone he knew. Most of the guys he had grown up with on the block, and their brothers, were still living in Revere, many of them still in their boyhood rooms in back of their parents’ houses. If they worked at all, they had jobs that paid little better than minimum wage. But Chuck, without benefit of a college education—indeed without even a proper high school education—had landed a top job at one of the city’s swankiest shops. He lived in a luxurious home in a well-to-do suburb, he dressed like a model in GQ , he traveled abroad, and he brought home more money in a year, not counting Carol’s salary, than Matthew could earn in seven. Chuck, he figured, must know something he
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