Chapter 3 - THE NAME IN THE LEDGER
For the first time since she had run out of Saint Agnes House, Nora stopped pretending this was about a historical artifact.
Someone knew her mother.
Someone knew the lunchbox had belonged to her.
And someone had entered Nora’s home knowing exactly where to leave a message.
“My mother died twelve years ago.”
Elias released her wrist.
“How?”
“Car accident.”
His expression made her furious.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That is not nothing.”
“I’m thinking.”
“Well, stop doing it with your face.”
Gabriel turned away, perhaps to hide a reaction.
Elias ignored him.
“Was there anything unusual about the accident?”
“My mother hydroplaned.”
“According to whom?”
“The police.”
“Anyone else in the car?”
“No.”
“Any witnesses?”
“No.”
She stared at him.
“You think someone murdered my mother?”
“I said nothing of the kind.”
“You asked exactly the questions a person asks before saying someone murdered my mother.”
Before Elias could answer, Gabriel’s phone buzzed.
He read the screen.
“The cat is safe.”
Nora nearly collapsed.
“What?”
“A firefighter found him in the bathtub.”
Her hands covered her face.
“Oh, thank God.”
“Animal control is taking him to an emergency clinic for smoke exposure.”
“I’m going.”
“We’ll take you,” Elias said.
“I can take myself.”
“You are barefoot.”
“I’ve been barefoot for an hour.”
“And two men chased you across Boston.”
“They already found my apartment.”
“Which is exactly why you’re not going alone.”
Nora hated that he was right.
She hated even more that being near him made the fear in her chest loosen.
Thirty minutes later she sat in the rear of a black SUV wearing a pair of restaurant slippers and Elias’s overcoat over her ruined dress.
Oliver was waiting at the emergency veterinary hospital.
The seventeen-pound orange cat looked deeply offended by the entire situation.
Nora cried again when the technician brought him out.
Oliver responded by biting her sleeve.
“He appears resilient,” Elias observed.
“He hates everyone.”
“Then we have something in common.”
Oliver stared at Elias.
Then, to Nora’s betrayal, climbed directly into his lap.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Elias scratched under the cat’s chin.
“I have a way with dangerous creatures.”
“Please never say that while holding my cat again.”
His smile disappeared when Nora’s phone rang.
This time it was Detective Hannah Ortiz of the Boston Police Department.
The questions lasted twenty minutes.
Had Nora received threats?
Was anything missing?
Did she know why somebody would mention her mother?
Nora gave careful answers.
She did not mention the ledger.
Not yet.
Elias noticed.
When the call ended, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell her?”
“Because I don’t know who I can trust.”
“You trust me?”
“No.”
“That’s fair.”
She studied him.
“You didn’t seem offended.”
“I’d be more concerned if you trusted me after knowing me for ninety minutes.”
Gabriel turned from the front seat.
“We have another problem.”
“Of course we do,” Nora said.
“Security footage from Saint Agnes was deleted.”
“By whom?”
“Administrative credentials belonging to Malcolm Reed.”
Nora closed her eyes.
Eight years.
Eight years of Malcolm buying her coffee before early inspections.
Sending flowers when her father died.
Recommending her for preservation awards.
Calling her kid when she was thirty-three years old and pretending it annoyed her.
“You don’t have to defend him,” Elias said quietly.
“I’m not.”
“You look like you are preparing to.”
“I’m trying to understand how someone can spend eight years being one person and become another in one night.”
Elias’s gaze went toward the rainy window.
“Sometimes they don’t become another person.”
She understood immediately.
“Your father?”
“My family.”
He said nothing more.
Instead of returning to the restaurant, Elias took Nora to a brownstone on Beacon Hill.
She realized it belonged to him only after three armed security men greeted him by name.
“This is insane.”
“My home?”
“The men with shoulder holsters.”
“One is a retired detective.”
“That does not improve the shoulder holster.”
A woman in her late sixties waited inside.
She wore black trousers and a cream blouse, her silver hair cut sharply to her jaw.
She looked at Nora.
Then at the lunchbox.
Then all color left her face.
“Where did you get that?”
Elias shut the door.
“A wall inside Saint Agnes.”
The woman gripped the back of a chair.
“Mother?”
Nora looked between them.
This was Alessandra Bellini.
The woman from the photograph.
Still unmistakable after nearly four decades.
Alessandra sat slowly.
“I thought it had been destroyed.”
Nora’s heartbeat changed.
“You knew my mother.”
Alessandra looked at her.
Not vaguely.
Not as someone trying to place a resemblance.
She looked at Nora as though she had been expecting this face for thirty-eight years.
“You’re Lillian’s daughter.”
“Yes.”
Alessandra’s eyes filled with tears.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
Nora stepped backward.
“No. Please don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Look at me like you know something terrible.”
Alessandra closed her eyes.
Elias moved beside his mother.
“What happened at Saint Agnes?”
Alessandra’s face hardened.
“A great many things your father tried to protect you from.”
“Malcolm says our family destroyed people there.”
“Malcolm Reed lies as naturally as most men breathe.”
Nora placed the ledger on the dining table.
“He’s in this.”
Alessandra barely glanced down.
“I know.”
“You know?”
“I was there.”
Elias’s voice sharpened.
“Mom.”
“In 1988, Saint Agnes was protecting women who had nowhere else to go. Some were teenagers. Some had children. Some were hiding from husbands with money and connections.”
She looked at Nora.
“Your mother was one of them.”
Nora’s mouth went dry.
“Why?”
Alessandra hesitated.
“She witnessed something.”
“What?”
“Men from Harbor Crown bribing city officials to seize properties along the waterfront.”
Nora frowned.
“Harbor Crown existed in 1988?”
“Under another name.”
Elias looked at the ledger.
“Crown Municipal.”
Alessandra nodded.
“Malcolm was their attorney.”
“Malcolm isn’t an attorney.”
“Not anymore.”
Nora stared.
“He told me he studied architecture.”
“He did. After he was disbarred.”
The floor seemed to move beneath Nora.
“Why?”
“Evidence tampering.”
Elias pulled out a chair.
“Sit.”
Nora did not.
Alessandra continued.
“Your mother was cleaning offices at night while studying engineering. She saw Malcolm remove documents from the planning department. Later, she recognized some of the same files when Harbor Crown attempted to force Saint Agnes out.”
“And you?”
“My family had business interests along the harbor.”
Nora’s voice became cold.
“Illegal ones?”
Alessandra did not flinch.
“Yes.”
Elias looked at his mother sharply.
“You told me Father had already pulled us out by then.”
“He was trying.”
“V. Bellini.”
Alessandra looked at the ledger.
“That isn’t your father.”
Elias froze.
“Then who?”
“Vincent.”
Nora looked between them.
“Who is Vincent?”
Elias’s face changed.
“My uncle.”
“Your father’s brother?”
“Yes.”
“Alive?”
A long silence.
Then Elias said, “Very.”
Alessandra stood.
“Vincent wanted Saint Agnes because beneath the building was an old freight tunnel connecting three waterfront warehouses. During Prohibition it moved alcohol. Later it moved everything else.”
“Drugs?” Nora asked.
“Sometimes.”
“Weapons?”
Alessandra looked at Elias.
“Yes.”
Nora stared at the floor.
Harbor Crown wanted to demolish Saint Agnes.
A property containing tunnels that could expose decades of criminal activity.
“This isn’t about the lunchbox,” she whispered.
Elias understood at the same instant.
“They’re demolishing evidence.”
Nora looked up.
“And Malcolm assigned me to inspect the building.”
“To locate anything hidden before demolition.”
“He used me.”
Alessandra’s voice softened.
“Lillian hid that box because she knew no one would search behind original masonry. She trusted that someday someone who cared about the building would find it.”
Nora’s eyes burned.
“She knew I became a restoration architect.”
“No. She died before Saint Agnes reopened for assessment.”
“Then why my company?”
Alessandra did not answer.
That frightened Nora more.
Elias noticed.
“Mom.”
Alessandra walked toward a cabinet.
From inside she removed a thin envelope.
The paper was yellow.
Nora recognized her mother’s handwriting before Alessandra even returned.
Her knees weakened.
“Where did you get that?”
“Your mother sent it to me two weeks before she died.”
Nora could barely speak.
“You knew her until she died?”
“No. We hadn’t spoken in years. Then this arrived.”
“Why didn’t you contact me?”
“I was afraid contacting you would lead them to you.”
“Them?”
“Malcolm. Vincent. Anyone still searching for what Lillian hid.”
Nora ripped open the envelope.
Inside was a single sheet.
Alessandra,
Malcolm contacted me.
He knows Nora is studying preservation.
If anything happens, do not tell her until the wall opens.
She must make the choice herself.
And when she does, tell Elias that Vittorio died because he refused to burn Saint Agnes.
Nora stopped reading.
Elias took the paper.
His face drained.
“What?”
Alessandra whispered his name.
“Elias.”
He looked at her.
“My father’s death wasn’t a robbery.”
His mother said nothing.
“It was Vincent.”
Still nothing.
That silence was confirmation.
Elias turned away.
Nora saw something dangerous in him then.
Not the controlled man from the restaurant.
Not the dry humor.
Something older.
A Bellini inheritance he had spent his entire adult life disciplining into submission.
His phone rang.
He ignored it.
It rang again.
Gabriel answered his own phone in the hallway.
Then shouted.
“Elias!”
Every person in the room turned.
Gabriel came back holding his screen.
“We just received live footage from Saint Agnes.”
“From whose camera?”
“I don’t know.”
He placed the phone on the table.
The video showed the basement Nora had escaped from.
Malcolm Reed stood beneath a hanging work lamp.
Beside him was the man who had chased Nora.
And behind them stood an elderly man in a dark overcoat.
Silver hair.
Cane.
A face Elias clearly recognized.
Vincent Bellini looked directly into the camera.
Then smiled.
“Good evening, nephew.”
Elias did not move.
Vincent lifted something into view.
An old photograph.
Nora’s mother stood in it.
Beside her was Vittorio Bellini.
Vincent turned the photo over.
Written across the back was an address.
Then he spoke.
“If Nora wants to know why her mother really died, bring the ledger to Saint Agnes before midnight.”
The video went black.
May you like
Nora looked at Elias.
He was already reaching for his coat.
