Chapter 3 - THE MEDICAL REPORT|
The independent laboratory called Adriano at 7:30 the following morning.
He took the call in his private study, with Marcus standing near the door.
"The initial screening identified an unexpected substance in the residue," the specialist explained. "We need further testing to determine its nature and concentration, but the results are not consistent with ordinary beverage contamination."
Adriano remained motionless.
"Could it affect alertness or memory?"
"That is possible, depending on the substance and repeated exposure. We cannot determine the effects without a complete toxicological assessment and comparison with your medical records."
"Continue the testing. Send the results directly to my attorney."
"Of course."
Adriano ended the call.
For months, he had believed he was losing control of his mind. He had apologized to senior executives for forgetting discussions, dismissed his own suspicions as exhaustion, and allowed his physician to adjust his prescriptions.
What if the problem had never been his health?
What if someone had been making him appear incapable of running his own company?
The possibility was almost more frightening than the symptoms.
Marcus placed another file on the desk.
"Your medical records contain several changes made during the past two months. Three prescriptions were adjusted, but the documentation for two changes is incomplete."
"Who authorized them?"
"Dr. Ferro."
Adriano looked toward the door.
"Find him."
Dr. Ferro arrived at noon, carrying his usual leather bag. He was a narrow-faced man who had treated the Moretti and Castellano families for nearly fifteen years. He smelled faintly of menthol and always spoke in a measured tone.
"What seems to be the problem, Adriano?"
Adriano showed him the laboratory's preliminary report.
The physician read it and placed the page back on the desk.
"Contamination can occur in any household."
"Nine camera outages can also occur?"
Ferro's expression changed.
"What are you suggesting?"
"I'm asking why my medical records contain unexplained prescription changes."
"You're under enormous stress. Memory lapses are not unusual."
"Did you authorize every medication change?"
Ferro hesitated.
"I believe so."
"You believe so?"
The physician closed his bag.
"Adriano, your anxiety is becoming a problem. You are beginning to distrust people who have cared for you for years."
"Perhaps I should have started sooner."
Ferro looked toward Marcus.
"I recommend a full neurological evaluation."
"You'll not conduct it."
"That is unwise."
"No more of your prescriptions until an independent specialist has reviewed my records."
The physician rose.
"You may regret this decision."
Adriano met his eyes.
"I already regret the ones I made while trusting you."
After Ferro left, Marcus revealed that the physician's office had received payments from a consulting company connected to Valentina's family. The payments were described as speaking fees and medical research grants.
But two were made shortly before Adriano's symptoms began.
Adriano read the figures.
"Get a complete forensic review. I want to know whether those payments were legitimate."
Marcus nodded.
Later that afternoon, Nina returned to the house with Rosa.
She found Adriano sitting in the garden, staring at his watch.
"Sir?"
He looked up.
"Hello, Nina."
"Do you feel sick?"
He considered the question before answering.
"I don't know yet."
Nina sat on the far end of the bench.
"My dad used to say that when something is wrong, you should look for what changes."
Adriano turned toward her.
"Was your father a doctor?"
"No. He fixed elevators. But he said that when one elevator stopped working, people always blamed the motor first. Sometimes it was the door. Sometimes it was the button. Sometimes someone had switched off the power."
Adriano smiled faintly.
"Your father sounds like a practical man."
"He was."
She opened her notebook.
"I wrote down when you looked tired."
He glanced at the page.
"You've done me a great service."
Nina hesitated.
"Are you going to be angry if the person who did it is someone you love?"
Adriano looked at her for a long time.
"That depends on what they did."
Nina nodded solemnly.
Then she whispered, "I think Mrs. Valentina knows more than she's saying."
Before Adriano could answer, a limousine pulled into the driveway.
May you like
Valentina had returned early from her supposed business trip.
And she was carrying a small white box addressed to Nina.
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