Chapter 6 - The Man Behind the Locked Door|
Darkness swallowed the room.
Tomasso drew his pistol and moved in front of Caterina, his free hand reaching behind him to keep her close. Somewhere beyond the wall, an electric motor hummed. The sound was followed by a sharp metallic click.
A strip of red emergency lighting flickered on above the desk.
Lorenzo's voice returned through the speaker.
"You should have stayed at your wedding, Tomasso. It was a lovely ceremony."
"Open the door."
"You're standing in a room your father helped build. Wouldn't you rather learn why?"
Caterina had already crossed to the filing cabinets. She pulled at the drawers, searching for anything that might explain the photograph.
Tomasso kept his weapon aimed at the ceiling-mounted speaker.
"You've made a mistake."
"I've made several," Lorenzo replied. "Trusting my brother-in-law was one. Allowing his daughter to grow up was another."
Caterina froze.
Tomasso noticed.
"Your brother-in-law?"
"My sister married Matteo Moretti," Lorenzo said. "A fine man. A terrible businessman. He thought he could make peace with Vittorio Barbieri. He thought the two of them could build an empire without people like me."
The speaker crackled.
"They were wrong."
Caterina moved toward the wall safe.
"Tell me what happened to my father."
"You already know what happened to him."
"I know what you told everyone."
A long silence followed.
Then Lorenzo laughed softly.
"You sound like your mother."
Caterina's hand tightened around the silver key.
"My mother trusted you."
"Your mother trusted everyone. It made her easy to deceive."
Tomasso heard a faint mechanical sound behind the wall. He examined the room and found a narrow ventilation grille near the floor. Cold air moved through it, carrying the smell of gasoline.
"We're leaving," he said.
Caterina shook her head.
"Not without the files."
"We're leaving now."
She turned toward him, anger replacing fear.
"You can walk away whenever you want. I have spent ten years trying to discover who killed my parents. I am not leaving because my uncle wants to frighten me."
Tomasso held her gaze.
"Then stay behind me."
He fired twice at the electronic lock. Sparks scattered, but the mechanism held.
A sudden hiss came from the ventilation grille.
Tomasso recognized the smell.
Gas.
He grabbed Caterina's hand and pulled her toward the desk. She resisted long enough to snatch the photograph and a small black notebook from the open drawer.
The red light changed to amber.
Lorenzo's voice became almost gentle.
"Do you remember the night your mother died, Caterina? You were in the east wing. You were crying. You kept asking for your father."
Caterina's face went white.
"You told me he was traveling."
"I told you what you needed to believe."
Tomasso fired at the speaker. It burst into static.
He dragged the desk away from the wall, revealing a maintenance panel. Behind it was a narrow crawlspace, barely large enough for an adult to squeeze through.
Caterina climbed inside first.
Tomasso followed, pulling the panel shut just as a muffled explosion shook the room.
Dust filled the passage.
They crawled until they reached a maintenance ladder that led to the old boiler room. Tomasso pushed the hatch open and emerged into the basement. Caterina followed, coughing, the photograph clutched against her chest.
Outside, Marco waited beside the car with his weapon drawn.
"Don! The east wing is on fire."
Tomasso looked back toward the mansion.
Orange light spread behind the upper windows.
Caterina stood beside him, staring at the flames.
"My mother died in that wing," she whispered.
Tomasso took her hand.
"No," she said, pulling away. "She died because somebody wanted the truth buried."
She opened the black notebook.
The first page contained a list of dates, account numbers, and initials. Near the bottom, written in faded blue ink, was a name.
E. Barbieri.
Tomasso stared at it.
Enzo.
His father's brother.
The man who had raised him.
The man who had taught him that the Morettis were responsible for every tragedy in his life.
For the first time, the fire in front of them seemed less like destruction and more like a warning.
May you like
Someone had tried to kill them inside that room.
And someone else had left the evidence where Caterina would find it.
