Chapter 8 - THE BROTHER WHO DIED|
Emergency lights flickered red along the corridor.
Dominic kept one hand on Emma's shoulder while Victor moved toward the stairs. The voice came again through the intercom.
“You always were curious, little brother.”
Emma looked at Dominic.
His expression had changed completely.
“Anthony?”
A soft laugh answered him.
“Still remember me. How touching.”
Victor returned.
“The upstairs door is blocked. Someone's locked us in.”
Dominic took the microphone from the wall.
“If you're alive, show yourself.”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to see whether you can finally finish what Father started.”
The intercom crackled and went silent.
Emma pulled away from Dominic.
“You said he was dead.”
“I believed he was.”
“That's not the same thing.”
“No,” he said. “It isn't.”
Dominic explained that Anthony had been the family's golden child, the one their father intended to inherit everything. When Anthony disappeared after a violent dispute, Arthur announced that his eldest son had died overseas.
Dominic was seventeen. He had been ordered never to ask questions.
“Why would your mother be photographed with him?” Emma asked.
“My mother died before Anthony disappeared.”
“Then why was he in the archive?”
Dominic had no answer.
Victor found a maintenance exit behind a shelf. They escaped through a service tunnel and emerged two blocks away, where a second car waited.
At the Vale residence, Dominic ordered a full security sweep. Emma refused to leave until he told her everything he knew.
He took her to a sitting room and poured water into two glasses.
“Anthony believed our father was becoming reckless,” he said. “He wanted to take control of the legitimate businesses and cut ties with the criminal operation. Father called it betrayal.”
“And then he vanished.”
“Yes.”
“Did your father arrange his death?”
“I don't know.”
Emma placed the photograph on the table.
“My mother knew him. Maybe she helped him escape.”
“Or maybe she helped him expose my father.”
“Those aren't mutually exclusive.”
Dominic looked at her with something close to admiration.
“You think like she did.”
“Then perhaps you should start listening.”
He accepted the rebuke.
A few minutes later, Victor entered carrying a small package recovered from the archive. Inside was a photograph of Anthony standing outside a clinic in Queens, dated six months earlier.
On the back was a message.
ASK THE WOMAN WHO SIGNED THE DEATH CERTIFICATE.
Emma felt her pulse quicken.
“Someone forged his death?”
“Maybe,” Dominic said.
“Who signed it?”
Victor checked the accompanying paperwork.
“Dr. Evelyn Shaw. A private physician who worked for the family.”
Dominic's face hardened.
“She's retired. Connecticut.”
“Then we find her,” Emma said.
He nodded.
But before they could leave, Dominic's phone rang.
The caller ID showed a number he hadn't seen in years.
He answered.
A woman's voice whispered, “Dominic, don't come looking for Anthony.”
“Who is this?”
“You're already too late.”
“Tell me your name.”
“Your brother is not the only one who survived that night.”
The line went dead.
Dominic slowly lowered the phone.
Emma watched him.
“Who was it?”
May you like
He looked toward the window, where the city lights glittered against the dark glass.
“I think,” he said, “we've been looking at the wrong family.”
