Chapter 7 - THE PHOTOGRAPH THAT LIED
"Then tell me why somebody wanted us to believe Carlo was in that room."
Valentina stared at the photograph in my hand.
Her face was white.
"Because Carlo was the person Chiara went to for help."
Lorenzo stepped closer.
"Valentina, you never told me that."
"I didn't know until last month."
I looked between them.
"Start from the beginning."
My sister took a slow breath.
"Chiara suspected Richard was stealing money. She also believed someone at the clinic had altered her prescription records."
"Price," I said.
Valentina nodded.
"She wanted independent copies of everything before she confronted anyone."
"Then why meet Richard and Price together?"
"Because Richard convinced her he wanted to return the missing funds."
I stared at her.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"No. I expect you to understand why she wanted to believe it."
Those words stopped me.
Chiara had always believed people could change.
Sometimes that kindness had frustrated me.
Now I wondered whether someone had used it against her.
Valentina continued.
"Richard said he'd made mistakes and wanted to fix them. Chiara agreed to meet him, but only if Dr. Price came to explain the prescription changes."
"Why Price?"
"Because he claimed the clinic had experienced a computer error."
I looked at the photograph.
In the reflection, the supposed cufflinks did look strange.
The letter B was too large.
Almost painted over the surface.
"Who gave Lorenzo this altered photograph?"
Valentina lowered her eyes.
"I did."
Lorenzo stared at her.
"What?"
She began crying.
"Richard sent it to me. He told me it proved Carlo had been involved."
"Why would you give it to me?"
"Because I thought it might help you."
Lorenzo stepped back.
"For months, I've been investigating Carlo because of this."
"I know."
"And you didn't tell me?"
"I only discovered the alteration when I compared it with an old photograph Chiara had given me."
I looked at her.
"Where's the original?"
She opened her handbag.
Inside was a small envelope wrapped in a silk handkerchief.
She handed it over.
The photograph was identical except for the reflection.
Dr. Samuel Price stood beside Richard.
He held a black medical case.
I stared at his face.
Price looked nervous.
Richard did not.
"Why did you wait so long to show us?"
Valentina looked ashamed.
"Because Richard has been threatening me again."
I felt my anger return.
"What does he have on you?"
She swallowed.
"Eight years ago, I transferred money from the foundation without asking questions. I signed documents because I trusted him."
"How much?"
"Two hundred thousand dollars."
Lorenzo shook his head.
Valentina continued.
"Richard said he was moving it temporarily for a property purchase. When I realized it was foundation money, I demanded he return it."
"Did he?"
"Most of it. Chiara helped trace the rest."
"Then why are you still afraid?"
"Because he kept copies of my authorization."
She looked at me.
"He threatened to make it appear I knowingly stole from families who needed medical care."
I studied my sister.
For years, I'd thought she was stronger than anyone I knew.
Now I saw the fear she'd hidden beneath her polished appearance.
"You should have told me," I said.
"I know."
Lorenzo folded his arms.
"And I should have told Dante about the investigation sooner."
We all stood silently.
Three siblings.
Three people who had loved Chiara.
Three people whose silence had helped keep us apart.
Then Marco entered.
"Boss, we've identified the source of the recent foundation transfers."
I turned.
"Who?"
"The payments were authorized using an archived administrative account."
"Belonging to?"
Marco hesitated.
"Carlo Bellini."
Lorenzo swore under his breath.
But Marco continued.
"There's something unusual. The account was supposedly deactivated eight years ago."
I frowned.
"Who reactivated it?"
"That authorization came from Richard Hale's consulting firm."
We finally had a link.
Not a theory.
A documented connection.
I looked at Lorenzo.
"Call the investigators you've been working with."
He nodded.
"Already arranged."
Within an hour, we sat in the library with a state financial investigator named Rebecca Sloan.
She was in her early fifties, with short brown hair and the patient expression of someone who had heard too many powerful men explain why rules shouldn't apply to them.
I didn't like being questioned.
She didn't seem to care.
"We can establish financial misconduct," she said after reviewing the records. "But your wife's death is a separate matter."
I placed the prescription bottle on the table.
"Then investigate it."
"We will request a forensic examination of the remaining tablets and obtain whatever medical evidence still exists."
"How long?"
"I won't make promises I can't keep."
I didn't enjoy that answer.
But it was an honest one.
Rebecca studied the bottle.
"Who preserved this?"
"My wife."
"Where was it stored?"
"In a locked music cabinet."
She nodded.
"That may help establish its history, though we still need independent testing."
Then she looked at Giulia, who'd agreed to join us.
"Miss Romano, you worked at the clinic?"
"Yes."
"Did you witness anyone changing Mrs. Moretti's medication?"
"No. I found inconsistent records."
Rebecca wrote something down.
"Thank you for making that distinction."
Giulia looked relieved.
For the first time, someone was taking her seriously.
Not dismissing her as a former employee.
Not treating her as a maid who should keep quiet.
Listening.
Later that afternoon, I found her in the ballroom.
She was standing beside Chiara's piano.
Mia sat on the carpet with crayons.
"You're not working today," I told Giulia.
She smiled faintly.
"Old habits."
I looked at the piano.
"Chiara would have liked you."
Giulia lowered her eyes.
"She was kind to me."
"She would have liked Mia, too."
Mia looked up.
"I drew the piano lady."
She held out a sheet of paper.
It showed a woman in a yellow dress standing beside a large black piano.
I felt a lump in my throat.
"That's beautiful."
Mia pointed to the woman's head.
"She has shiny hair."
I smiled.
"She did."
Then Mia pointed toward another figure in the drawing.
A tall man wearing a funny hat.
"That's hat man."
"Lorenzo?"
She nodded.
Then she pointed to a third figure.
A man with a square black shape in his hand.
"Who's that?" I asked.
Mia frowned.
"The man who took the box."
Giulia turned.
"What box, honey?"
"The little box under the piano."
My heart began pounding.
"When did you see him?"
Mia shrugged.
"When Mommy was cleaning."
"Was it the day you found the tape?"
She nodded.
"The man got the box. I got the tape."
I crouched.
"Do you remember what he looked like?"
She studied her drawing.
Then carefully picked up a black crayon.
She added a large ring to the man's hand.
A black circle.
Surrounded by gold.
Richard's ring.
I stood so quickly that Giulia flinched.
"Marco!"
He appeared in the doorway.
"Boss?"
"Find Richard Hale."
Marco nodded.
But Mia tugged my trousers.
"Mr. Dante?"
I crouched again.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
She held out her drawing.
"The box had a picture."
"What picture?"
She pointed at the square she'd drawn.
"A baby."
I stared at her.
"What baby?"
Mia looked confused.
Then she said something that made my knees feel weak.
"The piano lady was holding it."
I turned toward Giulia.
Her expression had changed.
She slowly pressed a hand over her mouth.
"What?" I demanded.
She shook her head.
"Nothing."
"Giulia."
Her eyes filled.
"Chiara came to the clinic for more than medication."
I couldn't move.
"What are you telling me?"
Giulia whispered, "Six days before she died, your wife had an ultrasound."
May you like
And suddenly, the locked music cabinet, the hidden cassette, and the missing photograph weren't the only things Chiara had kept from me.
My wife had been pregnant.
