Chapter 8 - THE SON WHO REFUSED TO KEEP HIS FATHER'S SECRET
“Martin Shaw has a son?”
Luca stared at Frank.
The old man nodded.
“Margaret... raised.”
Robert looked troubled.
“Martin never mentioned having children.”
“Maybe that was the point,” I said.
Luca turned toward Daniel.
“Find out everything about Margaret's son.”
Daniel searched the personnel records.
Margaret had listed one emergency contact.
Andrew Sullivan.
Thirty-one years old.
Operations supervisor at Bellini Transportation.
The same man Richard had threatened to ruin.
But his employment history contained something unusual.
Andrew had worked for Bellini Transportation for nine years.
Before that, he'd briefly worked for a company controlled by Martin Shaw.
And every month, Martin made a private payment to an account in Andrew's name.
Richard looked away.
Vanessa noticed.
“Dad, you knew.”
He didn't answer.
“You knew Andrew was Martin's son.”
Richard nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
“Did Andrew know?”
“I don't think so.”
Robert studied the records.
“Then Martin may have been using Andrew without his knowledge.”
Luca looked toward Frank.
“Grandpa, did Grandma know?”
Frank nodded.
“Mary... helped.”
I understood what he meant.
Mary had known the circumstances of Andrew's birth.
She'd helped Margaret raise him.
And she'd protected his privacy.
Martin, meanwhile, had apparently built a public life that didn't include his son.
Robert reached for his phone.
“We need to locate Andrew before Martin does.”
Daniel had already found an address.
Andrew lived in a small house on Chicago's northwest side.
But before Luca could leave, Frank grabbed his sleeve.
“Emily.”
I leaned closer.
“Yes?”
“Ticket.”
The St. Agnes receipt.
I took it from my pocket.
Frank touched the date.
Then whispered, “Morning.”
Luca glanced at the clock.
It was nearly seven.
The church office would open soon.
Robert looked toward the receipt.
“Margaret may have left something there that explains what she knew about Martin.”
Luca nodded.
“We'll go to St. Agnes first. Daniel can have the police check on Andrew.”
I looked at Frank.
“Would you like to come?”
His face softened.
“Mary.”
So we brought him.
The church stood on a quiet street lined with old brick houses.
St. Agnes had served the Moretti family for generations.
Frank's late wife had volunteered there every Wednesday.
The parish secretary recognized him immediately.
“Mr. Moretti.”
She hurried from behind her desk.
“It's wonderful to see you.”
Frank smiled faintly.
“Mary.”
The woman touched his shoulder.
“We miss her too.”
Luca showed her the old claim ticket.
She studied it.
Then disappeared into a storage room.
A few minutes later, she returned with a small wooden box.
The wood was dark and worn.
A tiny silver cross was carved into the lid.
“My grandmother left this?” Luca asked.
The secretary nodded.
“Mrs. Moretti arranged for it to remain here until the family requested it.”
“Why wasn't I told?”
“She specifically asked that Mr. Frank decide when it should be opened.”
Frank held out his hand.
I placed the box on his lap.
His trembling fingers touched the cross.
Then he looked at Luca.
“Open.”
Inside lay a handwritten letter, an old pocket watch, and a photograph of a young boy standing beside Mary Moretti.
The boy looked about seven.
On the back was a name.
Andrew.
Robert took a breath.
Luca opened the letter.
It was addressed to Frank.
My dearest Frank,
If you're reading this without me, I hope you know that every good thing we built was built because we chose people over money.
I fear Martin has forgotten that lesson.
He has been moving money from the foundation, and Richard has allowed it because he is desperate to save his company.
But there is another truth I have kept for years.
Andrew is Martin's son. Margaret raised him with my help after Martin refused to acknowledge him.
Andrew must never be punished for his father's choices.
I have asked Margaret to preserve the records proving where the money belongs.
If Martin refuses to make things right, tell Luca. He will be angry. But I believe he will choose the right thing.
All my love, Mary.
Frank covered his face.
His shoulders shook.
Luca knelt beside him.
“Grandpa.”
Frank looked up.
“I... failed.”
“No.”
“Mary... trusted.”
Luca took his hand.
“You were protecting people.”
Frank shook his head.
“Too... long.”
Luca looked down.
He knew his grandfather was right about that.
Silence had protected Martin.
Silence had protected Richard.
And silence had allowed Thomas to disappear.
Robert examined the pocket watch.
The back was engraved with a date.
The day the foundation was established.
Inside the watch case was a tiny folded paper.
It contained a list of account numbers.
And beside one was a note:
Emergency reserve. Never transfer without Frank's approval.
Daniel checked the number.
His expression changed.
“This account is still active.”
Luca looked up.
“How much?”
“Just over three million dollars.”
My heart lifted.
Perhaps some of Mary's money had survived.
Then Daniel continued.
“But someone attempted to transfer the entire balance yesterday.”
Luca's expression hardened.
“Martin?”
“Yes. The request was rejected because the account requires Frank's authorization.”
Robert nodded.
“Then this is the money Martin couldn't reach.”
Frank gripped the pocket watch.
“Mary... saved.”
Luca placed his hand over his grandfather's.
“She did.”
For the first time since dinner, I saw hope in Frank's eyes.
But it lasted only a moment.
Daniel's phone rang.
He stepped aside to answer.
When he returned, his expression was grave.
“The police found Andrew Sullivan.”
Robert stood.
“Is he safe?”
“Yes. He was at work. He agreed to speak with investigators.”
“And Martin?”
“Andrew says his father visited him yesterday.”
Luca frowned.
“Andrew knows Martin is his father?”
“He learned the truth two weeks ago.”
Robert looked toward the wooden box.
“What did Martin want?”
Daniel swallowed.
“He offered Andrew two million dollars to sign a statement saying Margaret and Thomas had fabricated the financial records.”
Luca shook his head.
“Did Andrew sign?”
“No.”
Relief swept through me.
Then Daniel said:
“Andrew secretly recorded the conversation.”
Robert leaned forward.
“Where is the recording?”
“He gave it to the investigators. It contains Martin admitting he diverted the foundation money.”
Luca stood.
“Then it's over.”
But Daniel didn't look relieved.
“Not entirely.”
He glanced toward Frank.
“Andrew says Martin told him something about the night Thomas disappeared.”
Luca stared.
“What?”
Daniel answered slowly.
“MARTIN SAID HE NEVER INTENDED TO HURT THOMAS. HE SAID THOMAS WAS INJURED BECAUSE SOMEONE ELSE TRIED TO STOP HIM.”
Luca looked toward his grandfather.
Frank lowered his head.
May you like
Then whispered:
“ME.”
