Chapter 6 - The Secret Behind the Mirror|
I returned to the mansion for the first time since leaving, accompanied by Ms. Harper, Daniel, and two investigators. Roberto stayed behind us as we crossed the entrance hall.
The house looked exactly as I remembered it.
The same marble floor. The same paintings. The same vase my mother-in-law had bought in Florence and insisted was too delicate for fresh flowers.
But nothing felt familiar.
Mrs. Bellini met us at the foot of the stairs. She clasped my hands and whispered that she was sorry. I wanted to ask why she had said nothing about Bianca, but the sadness in her face stopped me.
“Your mother-in-law trusted you,” she said. “She believed you were the only person in this house who still saw people as people.”
I swallowed.
“I’m not sure I did a very good job of that.”
“You tried.”
We went upstairs to the bedroom.
Roberto remained at the doorway.
“I won’t enter unless you want me to,” he said.
The small courtesy unsettled me. It was the first time he had asked permission to do something in our marriage.
I nodded toward the wardrobe.
Daniel knelt and examined the lower shelf. After removing two wooden panels, he found a narrow compartment concealed behind the backboard.
Inside lay a brass key and a folded note.
The note was in my mother-in-law’s handwriting.
Elena, if you have found this, then the ledger is no longer safe. Do not trust anyone who claims the money is the only thing at stake.
A second sentence had been written beneath it.
The truth about Gabriel is more dangerous than the theft.
Roberto went completely still.
“Who is Gabriel?” I asked.
“My uncle,” he replied. “My father’s younger brother.”
“What happened to him?”
“He disappeared twenty years ago.”
“Disappeared how?”
“His car was found near the river. No body was recovered. My father said Gabriel had betrayed the family and fled.”
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
“Your mother-in-law never believed that story.”
Roberto stared at the note.
“She told me he was dead.”
“She may have believed it,” Daniel said. “But she kept searching.”
The brass key opened a small lockbox in the study. Inside were photographs, handwritten account summaries, and a sealed envelope bearing the name of a bank in Switzerland.
There was also a photograph of Gabriel standing beside a younger version of Roberto’s father. On the back, someone had written:
Pier 14 — the night everything changed.
Roberto picked up the photograph.
“My father said Gabriel set fire to the warehouse.”
“Did he?” I asked.
“I don't know.”
“Did anyone die?”
“Three men were reported missing. One was never identified.”
Daniel took a breath.
“Your father-in-law used the fire to consolidate control of the family business. Gabriel had been challenging the way money moved through the company. After the fire, the investigation stopped. The missing accounts disappeared. Anyone who asked questions was pushed out.”
“And my mother-in-law found evidence?”
“Yes.”
Roberto sat down.
For the first time since I had known him, he looked less like a man who commanded a city and more like someone who had discovered that his entire family history might be a lie.
A phone rang downstairs.
One of the investigators answered it, listened, then walked quickly into the room.
“We found Bianca,” she said. “She’s at a private clinic under a false name.”
“Is she injured?” I asked.
“Apparently. But she has requested protection in exchange for information.”
Roberto rose.
“What information?”
The investigator looked at him, then at me.
“She says Adrian Vale didn’t steal the ledger for himself.”
“Who did he steal it for?” I asked.
The investigator hesitated.
“Someone who has been paying him for years.”
“Who?”
She opened her folder and placed a photograph on the desk.
It showed an older man with silver hair, standing outside a courthouse.
Roberto’s face drained of color.
“My father,” he whispered.
I looked at the photograph again.
May you like
Roberto’s father had been dead for three years.
And according to the investigator, the man in the picture had been photographed two days earlier.
