Chapter 5 - A Room with Two Exits
Janevra put Bruno on speaker so Lena could hear. They stood in Lena's kitchen beneath an ordinary fluorescent light, a world away from the marble halls of the Vieira estate. The difference made Janevra oddly grateful. In this room no one had to ask permission to open a refrigerator.
“Where are you?” Lena asked Bruno.
“Near the south warehouse. There's a driver who says someone told him the load is fire-suppression equipment.”
“Equipment for a chapel that's closed for repairs?” Janevra said. “They've chosen a remarkably stupid cover story.”
“Or a useful one,” Lena replied. “People are reluctant to question a charitable delivery. Bruno, call the port authority and tell them what you actually know. Don't send men to open the truck.”
Bruno's hesitation was audible. He had grown up in a world where trouble was handled by people carrying weapons. Janevra could practically hear him trying to find the alternative.
“I'll make the call,” he said at last.
Janevra phoned Sofia, who confirmed the chapel had not ordered fire-suppression equipment. Its contractor had already completed an inspection, and no delivery was scheduled until the roof was sealed. Sofia also mentioned an auction catalog she had discovered that afternoon. Two more paintings from small neighborhood churches appeared under private ownership despite recent claims that they were being restored for free.
“So Daario isn't just stealing one panel,” Janevra said.
“Possibly,” Sofia replied. “The photographs suggest a pattern. We need to verify each object's history.”
At one in the morning Janevra received a call from Elio. He sounded unlike the man who had stood at their wedding altar. “I owe you an apology.”
“Which part?”
“The surveillance. Thinking a photograph explained your intentions. Letting Daario control access to our warehouses because he said he was family.”
“Those are separate apologies.”
“I know.” He took a breath. “Can I come speak with you tomorrow? At Lena's office, with her present, if you'd prefer.”
Janevra looked at her friend, who nodded once. “Ten in the morning. Bring documents, not flowers.”
Elio arrived without Bruno or a procession of guards. He placed a packet on the conference table. It contained records showing several unauthorized freight declarations, an internal report about missing inventory, and an old photograph of Daario standing with an auction intermediary. He didn't ask for her trust; he explained what each record could and couldn't establish.
“I spoke to a lawyer,” he said. “She says our company must preserve the evidence and disclose the suspected fraud. She's contacting the appropriate authorities. The legitimate employees aren't responsible for my cousin's conduct.”
“And what about the things your company does that everyone is too scared to report?” Janevra asked.
Elio looked at her for a long moment. “I can't separate the two by pretending the other things are harmless.”
It was not a confession of every offense, but it was the first time she had heard him acknowledge that the structure itself was rotten. Lena made a note and asked whether the warehouse workers could speak to investigators without retaliation. Elio agreed to put it in writing through counsel.
He then handed Janevra an envelope containing a photograph of her leaving Saint Agnes. “Daario sent this to me yesterday. He says you met a Santoro courier.”
“That's Mr. Alvarez,” she said. “The man who helped pack the painting.”
“I checked. You're right.”
The words should have been simple. Instead they made her want to sit down and cry. He hadn't asked her to prove she loved him. He had finally checked whether the accusation was true.
“Then why bring it?”
“Because he wanted me to be angry with you. I think he needs us divided.”
That afternoon an inspector called Sofia to say the suspicious truck had been stopped for a document review. Its paperwork described restoration supplies, but the freight list included sealed drums and crates bearing industrial hazard labels. No one had established the contents yet. The vehicle was being held while qualified personnel assessed it.
“Could they be connected to the missing artworks?” Janevra asked.
“Maybe. The safety issue comes first,” Sofia said. “I canceled tomorrow's chapel fundraiser just in case.”
Janevra was proud of her for that. A lovely room, a generous crowd, and a useful cause did not justify putting people at risk.
At dusk Marta came to Lena's office. She placed a spiral notebook on the table. The pages contained weight readings written by hand, along with the names of night-shift workers and the times the gate opened. One truck had entered carrying nearly twice the declared weight, then left empty. Its exit had been approved using the missing worker's badge.
“His name is Tomas Reed,” Marta said. “He called me from a blocked number. He said he was afraid to go home.”
“Do you know where he is?” Lena asked.
Marta shook her head. “He said he'd seen the supervisor sign a form and had taken a picture. Then the call ended.”
A message arrived on Marta's phone before anyone could speak again. It contained a grainy photograph of Tomas seated on a warehouse floor. A man stood behind him. Only the cuff of his suit and one hand were visible, but the ring was unmistakable: a gold signet with an engraved V.
Daario wore a ring like that. So did several Vieira men, including Elio. Janevra refused to decide the photograph proved a particular identity. She asked Marta to forward the image directly to the detective handling the freight complaint.
A minute later another message appeared. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU MAKE AN ART PROJECT INTO A FAMILY MATTER.
Elio read it over Lena's shoulder. His face emptied of expression. For an instant Janevra glimpsed the man his enemies feared. Then he closed his eyes, called his lawyer, and gave the authorities the original message rather than dispatching armed men.
May you like
Janevra watched the choice. It did not undo their wedding day. It did, however, give her one new fact about the husband she thought she knew.
That night, in separate rooms and on separate phones, they learned the same thing: Pier Six had lost power, Tomas's work badge had been found beside a locked loading bay, and someone was inside the warehouse calling for help.
