Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN IN THE RED COAT
“The woman in the red coat.”
Luca repeated the words while standing in Claire's apartment.
He looked as though someone had reached into his past and rearranged everything he remembered.
Claire watched him carefully.
“You know who she is.”
Luca shook his head.
“I know someone who wore a red coat.”
“Who?”
“My aunt Sofia.”
“Marcus's wife?”
He nodded.
“She worked with my mother at St. Catherine's. She handled the foundation's scholarship program.”
Claire waited.
Luca rubbed his forehead.
“Sofia left Marcus about a year after Mom died. Everyone said they had marriage problems.”
“Did you ever speak to her afterward?”
“No. She sent my father a Christmas card every year for a while. Then the cards stopped.”
Claire looked at Elena's journal.
“Maybe your mother wasn't accusing Marcus of anything. Maybe she wanted him to explain what happened to Sofia.”
Luca considered that.
Then his phone vibrated with a message from Daniel.
The police had formally taken custody of the video showing Giovanni's coerced signature.
Richard Bellini had been notified that the hospital transfer was being challenged.
And Vanessa had left the Moretti estate with her personal belongings under security supervision.
Luca read the message aloud.
Claire felt relief.
At least Vanessa was gone.
But Luca didn't seem comforted.
“Richard will know we're investigating the past,” he said.
Claire looked at the leather journal.
“Then we need to move carefully.”
Luca nodded.
“First, I want to speak to my father.”
Giovanni was awake when they returned to the mansion.
He sat beside the library window, holding Elena's silver watch.
The seventeen sheets of paper remained stacked neatly on the desk.
Claire had saved every one.
Luca knelt beside his father.
“Dad, I found Mom's journal.”
Giovanni's eyes filled.
Luca placed the book in his lap.
“There's something I need to know.”
He opened it to the last entry.
“Marcus.”
Giovanni flinched.
Luca continued.
“Did your brother help Richard Bellini forge your signature?”
Giovanni stared at the page.
Then slowly nodded.
Luca closed his eyes.
“But Mom wrote that Marcus was there when it happened. Did he know it was being forged?”
Giovanni hesitated.
Then shook his head.
Claire noticed the difference.
“Maybe he didn't know what he was witnessing,” she suggested.
Giovanni pointed toward her.
“Yes,” he whispered.
Luca looked confused.
Claire sat beside the wheelchair.
“Mr. Moretti, was Marcus tricked into signing something?”
Giovanni nodded.
“Did Richard tell him the money was being moved for hospital expenses?”
Another nod.
“Did Marcus eventually discover the truth?”
Giovanni began tapping the armrest.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Claire reached for a sheet of paper.
“Let's use the letters again.”
She wrote two words.
YES.
NO.
Giovanni pointed to YES.
Luca leaned forward.
“What did Marcus do when he found out?”
Giovanni struggled to speak.
His mouth opened.
No sound emerged.
Claire waited.
Finally, he whispered one word.
“Sofia.”
Luca stared.
“My aunt?”
Giovanni nodded.
Claire turned a page of Elena's journal toward him.
“Did Sofia know about the forged signature?”
Giovanni shook his head.
Then pointed to Elena's last instruction.
The woman in the red coat.
He began crying.
Luca took his hand.
“Dad, you can tell me.”
Giovanni struggled for several seconds.
Then managed two words.
“Not guilty.”
Claire looked at Luca.
“Who wasn't guilty?”
Giovanni pointed toward Marcus's name.
Luca sat back.
“My uncle didn't steal the money?”
Giovanni shook his head firmly.
“But he signed the authorization.”
Giovanni nodded.
Claire studied Elena's entry again.
There was something peculiar about the wording.
Marcus was in the room when it happened.
Not Marcus did it.
She looked at Giovanni.
“Did Marcus witness someone else forge your signature?”
The old man nodded so strongly that Luca caught his shoulder.
Claire felt the answer forming.
“Was it Richard?”
Giovanni shook his head.
“Adrian Keller?”
Another shake.
Claire glanced at Luca.
Then asked the question she dreaded.
“Was it someone in the Moretti family?”
Giovanni closed his eyes.
A tear slipped down his cheek.
He nodded.
Luca stared at his father.
“Who?”
Giovanni reached for Elena's watch.
He turned it over.
Then tapped the engraved rose.
Claire looked at the journal.
Elena had drawn the same symbol beside the final entry.
“Rose,” she whispered.
Giovanni's fingers tightened.
Luca looked toward the mantel.
“My mother's favorite flower.”
But Claire was already thinking about something else.
The hospital opening photograph.
Elena's cream coat.
The blue bracelet.
The gold watch mentioned in the journal.
Elena had surrounded herself with objects carrying the same little rose.
Perhaps it wasn't simply decoration.
“Who gave Elena the watch?” Claire asked.
Luca frowned.
“My grandfather.”
Giovanni shook his head.
Claire turned toward him.
“He didn't?”
Giovanni pointed at Luca.
Then toward the photograph.
Then finally toward his own chest.
Luca looked bewildered.
Claire considered the family history.
“Did Elena inherit the watch from your family?”
Giovanni shook his head again.
Then wrote slowly on the paper.
Sofia.
Luca stared.
“Aunt Sofia gave Mom the watch?”
Giovanni nodded.
Claire looked at the silver watch.
“Then perhaps Sofia knew what Elena was investigating.”
Giovanni pointed toward the paper and wrote two more words.
Find her.
Finding Sofia Moretti proved easier than Luca expected.
She lived in a small town outside Madison, Wisconsin, where she ran a community arts center.
Her name appeared on a public charity directory.
Luca called.
She answered on the fourth ring.
“Hello?”
For a moment, Luca said nothing.
Then he spoke.
“Aunt Sofia?”
Silence.
“Luca?”
“Yes.”
Her breathing changed.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
Luca closed his eyes.
Claire quietly moved away to give him privacy.
But Sofia's next words made him stand.
“Is Giovanni all right?”
“He's alive. He's had some health problems.”
“I know. Marcus told me.”
Luca stopped.
“You still speak to Marcus?”
“Sometimes.”
“Then you know what happened at St. Catherine's?”
A long silence followed.
Finally, Sofia said, “I know enough to wish I'd never left Chicago.”
Luca looked at Claire.
“Aunt Sofia, Mom left a message about you. Something about a red coat.”
Sofia made a small sound.
Then whispered, “She kept it.”
“What?”
“The coat. Elena promised me she'd keep it safe.”
Luca frowned.
“Why?”
“Because Richard wanted what was sewn inside.”
Claire stepped closer.
Luca turned on the speaker.
“What was inside the coat, Sofia?”
“An original bank authorization. Elena and I discovered Richard was using patient charity accounts to fund his private developments.”
Luca looked at the journal.
“Why didn't you report it?”
“We tried.”
Sofia's voice shook.
“Marcus had already signed one of the transfers. Richard told him that if the matter became public, Marcus would be charged with stealing charitable funds.”
“So Marcus stayed silent?”
“At first.”
“And afterward?”
“After Elena died, Marcus tried to tell Giovanni what had happened. Richard threatened to ruin us both.”
Sofia paused.
“Marcus was terrified. He believed the evidence had been destroyed.”
Claire looked toward Giovanni.
“But Elena kept something?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to the coat?”
Sofia hesitated.
“Elena gave it to Margaret Bennett.”
Claire stared.
“My mother?”
Sofia went silent.
Luca explained who Claire was.
When Sofia spoke again, her voice was full of emotion.
“Margaret had a baby girl. Elena adored the idea of that child having a better life.”
Claire felt tears gathering.
“Why would Mom never mention the coat?”
“Because she didn't know what was inside. Elena asked her to keep it until someone came for it.”
Claire thought about the cream coat stored upstairs.
But that one belonged to Elena.
Sofia's coat was red.
She asked, “What did it look like?”
“Deep burgundy wool. Large buttons. A narrow black collar.”
Claire suddenly remembered something.
Years earlier, Margaret had owned a red coat.
She wore it every winter until Claire was twelve.
When the lining tore, Margaret folded it carefully and placed it in a cardboard box.
Claire had asked why she didn't throw it away.
Her mother replied, Some things are worth keeping even when they no longer fit.
Claire looked at Luca.
“I know where it is.”
They returned to Claire's apartment.
The coat was still in the bedroom closet, packed inside a cardboard box with old winter blankets.
Claire removed it carefully.
The burgundy wool had faded.
Two buttons were missing.
But the black collar remained.
She spread the coat across the bed.
Luca examined the seams.
Nothing.
Claire checked the pockets.
Empty.
Then she noticed an unusual line of stitching beneath the collar.
The thread was slightly darker than the surrounding fabric.
Her fingers trembled.
She used a small sewing tool to lift three stitches.
A folded piece of thin paper appeared.
Luca unfolded it.
A bank authorization.
Dated eighteen years earlier.
The amount matched the $2.4 million transfer recorded in Elena's journal.
Marcus Moretti's signature appeared at the bottom.
Beside it was Giovanni's forged signature.
But there was something else.
A handwritten notation identified the person who had physically submitted the instruction to the bank.
Not Richard Bellini.
Not Marcus Moretti.
Claire looked at the name.
Then at Luca.
The person was listed as Elena Moretti.
Luca stared.
“That doesn't make sense. Mom was investigating the transfer.”
Claire examined the signature more closely.
“Elena's name was typed onto this copy,” she said. “But look at the ink beneath it.”
A second name had been crossed out.
The first letter was still visible.
V.
Luca leaned closer.
The handwriting looked newer than the rest of the document.
Claire unfolded the paper completely.
A narrow strip had been attached to its back.
It contained an older bank verification stamp and a photocopied identification card.
The card belonged to a woman named Victoria Bellini.
Luca's face turned pale.
Claire whispered, “Who is Victoria?”
He looked at her.
“Richard's wife.”
“Vanessa's mother?”
Luca nodded slowly.
“She died when Vanessa was eleven.”
Claire looked down at the document again.
Then noticed the date.
Victoria Bellini had submitted the disputed transfer eighteen years earlier.
But Vanessa was only seven years old at the time.
For the first time, Claire began to understand something about her former employer.
Vanessa hadn't invented the scheme.
She had inherited it.
Luca reached for his phone.
“I need to speak to Vanessa.”
Claire stopped him.
“Not until we understand why her mother was involved.”
She held up the authorization.
On its reverse side, Sofia had written a warning in blue ink.
Victoria tried to return the money. Richard would not let her.
May you like
Beneath that sentence was a second note.
Ask Vanessa what her mother left in the music box.
