They call it one of the great unsolved mysteries of Detroit; Stefano wanted an answer by his birthday. He recruited me, Rico, Rocco, Shiny Pete and Grace to do something about it. "These guys will make it happen if you point them in the right direction, Gene."
"What direction is that?"
"That's your job, Gene."
Plenty of cops, reporters, and talk radio callers have tried to find Hoffa over the years, but they had tried without our advantages: our bonafides, and our knowledge of the particpants involved. Police had known about Eddie Berganza, had locked him up for life, had dug up all his favorite hiding places. Nothing was found, however, for a reason.
Shiny Pete found Berlinghetti's place; he'd been senile for years. Pete drove him around for a day and a half, but ended up digging up some other schnook. Rocco got in touch with some other accountants; they figured when Berlinghetti took care of Jimmy, he got creative about it. Grace had a chat with Louis Hoffa, a second cousin and conspiracy author living in Miami; even he was stumped. Two days to go, and we had nothing. So I went with plan B: a patsy.
Rico and Pete got one of those old schnooks out of the ground; Rocco made sure it was somebody the same size and age, the same wear and tear (not so hard; they had a busy year. ) Grace, meanwhile, had a second lunch with Louis; she came back with a couple of Louis' teeth. We replanted the schnook with the dental work in one of Berlinghetti's old hiding places, and took the geezer out for one more drive.
The discovery was credited to some 'urban archaeologists' who were checking out the neighborhood for 'historical significance.' The remains were handed over to genetic researchers who tested the most intact piece of the body they could find - a tooth. Comparing the DNA with two known blood relatives, they saw enough to call it Hoffa DNA. Berlinghetti even ranted about dumping the body on the evening news, which was enough to close the case.
I brought a birthday card to stefano's party; we all signed it. He said he was impressed; "We cremated him! Where'd you get a body?" And so, I told him how we did it, with the senile Berlinghetti and the Hoffa kook. He thought it was hilarious. He asked, "How did you get him to shut up about it?"
"We made a trade."
I presume, at that point, Louis was making his way through the kitchen entrance, and up the stairs to have words with Stefano. As I said , that's what I presume. I didn't stick around.
inspired by Discover Magazine article, "Skeleton of King Richard III Found in England"
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