Chapter 6 - THE NIGHT ALESSANDRO FORGOT
“I remember the bridge,” Alessandro whispered.
Claire stared at him.
“Then why did Nicholas write that you wouldn't?”
Alessandro looked at the note again.
October 14.
Eight years earlier.
Before he'd ordered Claire removed from the charity hospital, there had been another incident that night.
An injured young woman.
A black sedan.
A bridge near the East Boston waterfront.
He remembered headlights reflecting against the Charles River.
He remembered someone pounding on the passenger window of his car.
And he remembered a man shouting:
“Don't stop!”
Rachel watched his face.
“What happened?”
Alessandro lowered himself into a chair.
“That night, after the construction accident, I was driving toward the hospital when I saw a young woman running along the roadside.”
Claire's breathing changed.
“She had blood on her coat,” Alessandro continued. “Someone was following her.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“I was carrying my father's photographs.”
Alessandro stared at her.
“You were the woman?”
“Yes.”
“I stopped the car.”
“You opened the door.”
“I remember telling you to get inside.”
Claire nodded.
“You drove me to the hospital. You told me nobody would hurt me there.”
Alessandro covered his mouth.
He remembered fragments.
The young woman shaking.
A torn brown coat.
An envelope she refused to release.
Then an urgent call from his office.
“My father phoned me,” he said slowly. “He said the woman was involved in blackmail.”
Claire's expression hardened.
“You believed him.”
“I did.”
“And you ordered me removed.”
Alessandro looked away.
“I remember now.”
Rachel stood beside Claire.
“Why did Nicholas think you wouldn't remember?”
Claire answered before Alessandro could.
“Because Vittorio told him Alessandro had never stopped to help me.”
Alessandro looked up.
“Why would he lie?”
“Because if Nicholas knew you'd brought me to the hospital, he'd know someone inside the Romano family had intercepted the evidence I carried.”
Silence settled over the room.
Alessandro remembered one more detail.
The envelope.
He had given it to a hospital security supervisor for safekeeping.
“Marco can identify that supervisor,” he said.
Claire shook her head.
“The man died three years ago.”
“Then the hospital must have records.”
“Your foundation paid to replace the entire security system two weeks after the accident.”
Alessandro stared at her.
Claire had spent six years trapped in a facility.
Yet she'd remembered every piece of the story that had been used to silence her.
“How did you find out?” Rachel asked.
“Nicholas investigated everything after we met again. He followed the money.”
“Again?” Alessandro repeated.
Claire looked toward him.
“Your mother brought me into the estate because she recognized me from the hospital.”
Elena Romano had met Claire during her treatment.
She knew the girl Alessandro had sent away was the daughter of the dead security guard.
“She felt responsible,” Claire explained. “She hired me as a housekeeper because it was the only way to bring me close without alerting Vittorio.”
“Why not tell me?”
“Because she wasn't sure whether you knew about the foundation payments.”
Alessandro felt that accusation settle heavily.
His own mother had feared he might be part of the cover-up.
Claire continued.
“She asked me to watch the household accounts. Nicholas helped me. We weren't supposed to fall in love.”
A faint smile crossed her face.
“But he was stubborn.”
Alessandro managed a sad smile.
“He always was.”
Then Claire looked down at the bracelet.
“On the night Nicholas died, he said he'd found the person who authorized the false hospital payments.”
“Who?”
“He wouldn't tell me until he had proof.”
Rachel glanced at the watch.
“Maybe he hid something else.”
Alessandro examined it.
The silver casing had been scratched near the back.
A small indentation marked the rim.
He remembered Nicholas once insisting that he never take the watch to an ordinary jeweler.
It had belonged to a watchmaker in Boston who specialized in mechanical pieces.
A man named Samuel Adler.
“There's someone who may know,” Alessandro said.
The independent discharge review took place the following morning.
Claire spoke privately with the attorney and a physician unaffiliated with St. Catherine's.
By afternoon, arrangements were made for her to leave voluntarily.
When the administrator returned Claire's belongings, she handed over two small suitcases.
Six years of confinement.
Two suitcases.
Rachel took one without being asked.
Claire paused at the front entrance.
Alessandro stood beside the car.
“I arranged a hotel suite,” he said. “It's in your name. You can stay there, somewhere else, or accept Rosa's offer to stay with her. Your choice.”
Claire studied him.
“You won't have someone watching me?”
“Only if you request security.”
“And nobody will tell me when I can leave?”
“No.”
She stepped into the afternoon sunlight.
For several seconds, she didn't move.
Then she turned her face toward the breeze.
“I forgot what the city smelled like,” she whispered.
Rachel looked away to hide her tears.
Claire chose Rosa's home.
That evening, Alessandro and Rachel visited Samuel Adler's watch shop.
The elderly craftsman recognized Nicholas's watch immediately.
“I wondered when somebody would bring this back.”
Alessandro placed it on the counter.
“Did Nicholas ask you to modify it?”
Samuel examined the casing.
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
“A small compartment behind the movement.”
Rachel leaned forward.
“Can you open it?”
Samuel hesitated.
“Nicholas made me promise not to open it for anyone except him.”
“He's dead,” Alessandro said.
“I know.”
Samuel looked at him sadly.
“He came here two days before the accident. He said his family was in danger.”
Alessandro swallowed.
“Please.”
Samuel retrieved a tiny screwdriver.
Carefully, he opened the back of the watch.
Behind the mechanism was a narrow space.
Inside lay a microfilm sleeve and a folded receipt.
The receipt bore a familiar letterhead.
ELENA ROMANO CHARITABLE FOUNDATION.
Below it was a payment authorization for $4.8 million.
The recipient was a private investment company controlled by Edward Whitmore.
But the authorized signer wasn't Edward.
It wasn't Vittorio.
It was Alessandro Romano.
Rachel looked at him.
“Did you sign this?”
“No.”
The signature appeared genuine.
Then Samuel unfolded the second side of the receipt.
Nicholas had written one sentence beneath the amount.
Alessandro's signature was used while he was in surgery.
Alessandro stopped breathing.
Eight years earlier, he'd undergone emergency surgery following a serious injury.
For four days, he'd been unconscious.
He had never known anyone used his authority during that period.
Samuel examined the microfilm against his illuminated workbench.
The first frame displayed a ledger.
The second showed a transfer authorization.
The third displayed a photograph.
It was taken inside the family foundation's office.
Vittorio Romano stood beside Edward Whitmore.
Between them sat Margaret Voss.
But the fourth person made Alessandro grip the counter.
Camille Whitmore.
Younger.
Frightened.
Holding a document.
Rachel leaned closer.
Across the top of the page were the words:
CONTINGENCY PLAN: REMOVE MORGAN WITNESS.
May you like
And beneath Camille's name was a handwritten instruction:
IF NICHOLAS DISCOVERS THIS, USE THE ROAD.
