In reality, what I knew about the mafia amounted to a pinch of salt. They, however, had done their homework as far as I was concerned. What I failed to realize was that my husband’s accident and subsequent death had been arranged by the mafia.
They knew exactly where I lived in Glendale, New Hampshire. They had photos of my children playing happily together on the lake that was part of our property. Their subtle threats were real. If I failed to deliver all that they required of me, they would kill both me, my children and my grandchildren.
The mafia had informants everywhere, including all the major airports. They were like a cancer, living in a major city that had no cure. It was hard to imagine that this was New York prior to the attacks on the two World Trade Center buildings on September 11, 2001.
Louise Deveraux and her husband, Jon, were successful writers who had produced a succession of books together. However, that success came at a price, one from which the mafia could profit.
Realizing that they were missing $400,000 from their publishers, Jon contacted a friend at the FBI when he was informed by the publisher that their literary agent had given them new instructions regarding how and when we should be paid. The next day, Jon was involved in a vehicular accident; one that proved fatal.
I was determined to fly to New York and sort out our affairs and start a new project away from writing; one that was very close to my heart. It was to be a journey that would set the cat among the pigeons and place me on a collision course with one of the most powerful mafia families controlling New York.