Chapter 2 - THE MAN WEARING THE DEAD WOMAN’S RING
“That's impossible,” Nicholas Bellomo said.
But his voice told me he already knew Thomas was telling the truth.
The photograph lay on Nicholas's desk, enlarged until the faces in the mirror were unmistakable.
His brother Vincent.
Dr. Samuel Prescott.
And a third man whose face was partially hidden behind Arthur Bellomo's wheelchair.
The man's left hand rested on the dining table.
On his third finger was a gold wedding ring set with a small blue sapphire.
Nicholas touched the computer screen.
“I buried that ring with my wife.”
Nobody answered.
I stood beside Ethan, who had stopped crying but was holding the torn paper airplane against his chest.
“Daddy?” he whispered.
Nicholas turned.
“Did Grandpa give you anything else?”
Ethan shook his head.
“Just the plane.”
“Did Charlotte tell you to keep your visit secret?”
Ethan nodded.
“She said Grandpa would get in trouble.”
Nicholas's expression changed.
Not anger.
Something worse.
The realization that someone had used his little boy to keep him from discovering the truth.
He crouched beside Ethan.
“You're not in trouble, buddy. Not now. Not ever for telling me the truth.”
Ethan looked toward the study door.
“Is Charlotte coming back?”
“No.”
Nicholas stood and turned to his security chief, Daniel Russo.
“Move Charlotte to the east sitting room. No phone. Two guards outside. Tell the guests dinner is over.”
Daniel hesitated.
“Sir, Vincent's people are among the guests.”
Nicholas stared at him.
“Then make certain they leave without learning why.”
Daniel disappeared.
Thomas lowered himself into a chair.
“Mr. Bellomo, there's something else about that photograph.”
Nicholas turned.
“Go on.”
“Your father wasn't sitting in Vincent's dining room because he was visiting. Look at his right wrist.”
Nicholas enlarged the image again.
A pale hospital identification bracelet was barely visible beneath Arthur's sleeve.
I leaned closer.
There was writing on it.
Not a patient's name.
A number.
417\.
Nicholas frowned.
“What's that?”
Thomas looked ashamed.
“Your father used that number for something years ago. I should remember.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“It's been a long time.”
Before Nicholas could respond, Daniel returned.
“Charlotte says she won't stay in that room.”
“She doesn't get a choice.”
“She says you need to hear what happened to your wife.”
Nicholas went still.
His first wife's name had rarely been spoken during my eleven months at the mansion.
Her name was Elena.
She had died six years earlier after collapsing at a private medical clinic.
Nicholas had been told she suffered a sudden cardiac complication.
Ethan had been two.
“Bring Charlotte here,” Nicholas said.
I instinctively moved closer to Ethan.
Charlotte entered five minutes later.
Her expensive silver gown still glittered beneath the study lights, but her makeup had begun to run.
She looked at the photograph.
Then at Thomas.
“You foolish old man.”
Nicholas didn't raise his voice.
“Where is my father?”
Charlotte folded her arms.
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“I can't tell you.”
Nicholas stepped closer.
“You're standing in my house after forging documents to steal eighty million dollars from my father. Choose your next words carefully.”
Charlotte's eyes flashed.
“I didn't forge anything.”
“Then why is Vincent's signature on the agreement?”
“Because Vincent arranged it.”
“And you helped him?”
She looked toward Ethan.
“Please take the boy outside.”
“No,” Nicholas said. “You've already hidden too much behind my son.”
Charlotte's expression softened unexpectedly.
“Ethan shouldn't hear what happened to his mother.”
Nicholas's jaw tightened.
“What happened to Elena?”
Charlotte looked down.
“I was told she died because she discovered something she wasn't supposed to discover.”
The room became painfully quiet.
Thomas closed his eyes.
Nicholas's voice dropped.
“Who told you?”
Charlotte hesitated.
“Vincent.”
Nicholas laughed once.
There was no amusement in it.
“My brother?”
“He told me Elena was investigating financial records your father had concealed. He said she confronted someone at the clinic.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Nicholas stepped toward her.
Charlotte backed away.
“I swear I don't know!”
Then she reached into her evening bag.
Daniel immediately moved forward.
“Slowly,” he warned.
Charlotte withdrew a small envelope.
Inside was a receipt from a private medical transport company.
It documented a transfer from Philadelphia to Rome.
Three weeks earlier.
Passenger: Arthur Bellomo.
Accompanying physician: Samuel Prescott.
Nicholas examined the paper.
“Why would my father's doctor take him to Italy?”
Charlotte swallowed.
“Because Vincent promised me Arthur would be treated there.”
“What was wrong with him?”
“He was having memory problems.”
Thomas suddenly stood.
“That's a lie.”
Charlotte turned.
“I saw the medical reports!”
“Arthur played chess with me the morning he disappeared,” Thomas said. “He remembered every move from a match we played twenty years ago.”
Nicholas looked at Charlotte.
“Why did you believe Vincent?”
For the first time, she appeared genuinely frightened.
“Because he had something on me.”
Nicholas waited.
“My younger brother, Andrew, borrowed money from Vincent's associates. He lost everything. Vincent said Andrew would disappear if I didn't cooperate.”
“You could have come to me.”
Charlotte's eyes filled.
“Would you have believed me?”
Nicholas didn't answer.
I felt Ethan squeeze my hand.
“Emma,” he whispered, “Grandpa wasn't sick.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
“He was scared.”
Nicholas heard him.
“Why was Grandpa scared?”
Ethan pointed at the photograph.
“The man with the ring yelled at him.”
Nicholas crouched.
“What did he say?”
Ethan thought carefully.
“He said Grandpa had to tell him where the blue book was.”
Thomas suddenly gripped the edge of the desk.
“The blue book?”
Nicholas looked at him.
“You know what that is?”
Thomas stared at the torn airplane.
“Your mother kept a small blue leather account book. After she died, your father took possession of it.”
Nicholas frowned.
“My mother died twenty-six years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Why would anyone want her account book now?”
Thomas looked at Charlotte.
“Because it contained records of who really owned the companies your father built.”
Charlotte's face drained of color.
Nicholas turned the guardianship agreement over.
I noticed something beneath the signature.
A shallow indentation in the paper.
“Mr. Bellomo,” I said quietly. “May I see that?”
He handed it to me.
I tilted it toward the lamp.
There were faint impressions of handwriting on the back.
Someone had written on a sheet placed above it.
I remembered doing something similar in school.
“Do you have a soft pencil?”
Nicholas opened his desk drawer.
I placed a fresh sheet of thin paper over the indentations and rubbed carefully with the side of the pencil.
A few words appeared.
BLUE BOOK. ST. AGNES. 417.
Thomas made a sound I had never heard from him before.
A frightened gasp.
Nicholas stared.
“St. Agnes?”
Thomas nodded.
“The old children's hospital.”
Nicholas looked confused.
“It closed decades ago.”
“Yes,” Thomas whispered.
“And your father purchased the building through one of his charitable foundations.”
Nicholas took the paper.
“What does 417 mean?”
Thomas's hands trembled.
“It was Elena's room number.”
Nicholas went motionless.
“Elena was never admitted to St. Agnes.”
Thomas shook his head.
“Not as an adult, sir.”
He looked toward Ethan.
“She was born there.”
Nicholas stared at him.
May you like
Then Thomas delivered the words that changed everything.
“SIR, YOUR FATHER ONCE TOLD ME THAT YOUR WIFE'S ORIGINAL BIRTH CERTIFICATE WAS HIDDEN IN ROOM 417—AND THAT IF VINCENT EVER FOUND IT, YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY WOULD BE DESTROYED.”
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