Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN THEY TRIED TO BLAME
“Then stop calling it a mistake.”
Renata stood beside Cesare's desk.
“This is fraud.”
Cesare nodded.
“Yes.”
“Not a clerical error. Not an unfortunate misunderstanding. Someone has been using my father's name to move money.”
“I agree.”
“Then why hasn't anybody been arrested?”
“Because a suspicious ledger isn't enough to identify who ultimately received the money.”
Renata hated that answer.
She hated it because it was reasonable.
Cesare turned his monitor toward her.
The supposed consulting payments moved through a separate company owned by a holding group associated with Victor Kells.
The beneficiary name was M. Sabo.
But the bank records available to Cesare did not identify the final personal account receiving the funds.
“Matteo approved the invoices,” Cesare said. “That makes him responsible for explaining them.”
“Are you protecting him?”
“No.”
“Would you protect him if he was guilty?”
Cesare's expression became heavy.
“Three days ago, I would have told you I could never believe it.”
“And now?”
“Now I'm afraid of what I might discover.”
Renata looked at him for a long moment.
That answer, at least, felt real.
The next morning, she arrived at her dental laboratory to find everyone unusually quiet.
Darlene Pierce, the laboratory owner, met her at the entrance.
“Come into my office.”
Renata's stomach dropped.
“Am I being fired?”
Darlene closed the door.
“No. But you need to see this.”
A local business website had published an article about the counterfeit gold.
The headline made Renata's hands go numb.
DECEASED ASSAYER AND DAUGHTER LINKED TO $3 MILLION WATERFRONT GOLD SCANDAL.
Beneath it was a photograph of Renata leaving Harbor Grill.
Her face was clearly visible.
The article described her father's previous misconduct allegations.
It mentioned her work with precious metals.
And it suggested investigators were examining whether she had assisted in preparing fraudulent certificates.
Renata read it twice.
Then she looked at Darlene.
“I didn't do any of this.”
“I know.”
“Some of our clients won't.”
Darlene folded her arms.
“Then they'll have to learn patience. I'm not firing a skilled technician because somebody printed an accusation.”
Renata's throat tightened.
“Thank you.”
“Don't thank me yet. We need to protect the lab's records.”
Darlene showed her the security logs.
Someone had attempted to access Renata's workstation remotely the previous night.
The attempt had failed.
But the login name had been hers.
Renata felt sick.
“They're trying to make it look like I used the lab.”
“That's what it looks like.”
Darlene had already preserved the logs and notified the company's security provider.
“Whoever this is,” she said, “they're not getting your career without a fight.”
For the first time in days, Renata felt less alone.
That afternoon, she met Cesare and Lucia at an independent financial-crimes office.
Investigator Mara Ellis had spent fifteen years tracing commercial fraud along the East Coast.
She was direct, skeptical, and unimpressed by the Morandi name.
“I don't care who your uncle is,” she told Cesare. “I care whether your records are complete.”
“They are.”
“We'll determine that.”
Renata liked her immediately.
Ellis reviewed the false certificates, the damaged bars, the consulting payments, and Darlene's workstation logs.
She arranged for independent laboratory testing and requested preservation of Northline's shipping records.
Then she addressed Renata.
“Someone appears to be constructing a story in which you and your father are responsible.”
Renata swallowed.
“Can you prove who?”
“Not yet. But whoever did this made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“They used a dead man's professional credentials to create current financial records. That leaves a trail.”
For the first time, Renata felt something like hope.
Then Lucia's assistant arrived with a report from the waterfront security system.
The previous night, a freight truck had left Northline's storage facility.
Its cargo authorization matched the trust's gold inventory.
But the destination had been changed.
From the bonded depository to Pier 14.
And the gate had been opened using an executive security credential.
Cesare examined the access log.
His expression changed.
Lucia leaned forward.
“Whose credential?”
Cesare didn't answer immediately.
Renata looked at the screen.
The name was printed in bold letters.
CESARE MORANDI — EXECUTIVE OVERRIDE AUTHORIZATION.
The room went silent.
Cesare slowly placed the report on the table.
“That credential belongs to me.”
Renata stared at him.
“Did you authorize that truck?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
Cesare looked toward his sister.
For the first time since Renata had met him, he seemed genuinely afraid.
“Someone inside my family has been using my authority.”
May you like
He turned back to Renata.
“And if we don't find out who before Friday, the missing gold may be gone forever.”
