Chapter 5 - THE PICTURE INSIDE THE SECOND WATCH
They found the second watch beneath spools of thread and old buttons.
It looked almost identical to David’s.
Same silver case.
Same worn leather strap.
But the initials engraved on the back were different.
V.M.
Vittorio Marconi.
Julian took it carefully.
“My father’s.”
Helen sat on the edge of the bed.
“I thought Evelyn had that.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“Vittorio gave it to David the night before everything happened.”
Julian opened the back.
Inside was a tiny folded photograph.
Not Sophie’s childhood drawing.
A photograph of it.
Someone had photographed the drawing before Helen burned the original.
Blue water.
Three birds.
Crooked yellow sun.
And in the lower corner, something Sophie had forgotten.
A small red building.
Caleb leaned closer.
“What’s that?”
Sophie stared.
“Liberty State Park.”
“No. The red thing.”
“I don’t remember.”
Helen did.
“Central Railroad terminal.”
Julian looked at Sophie.
“Your father took you there?”
“All the time.”
Caleb studied the photograph.
“Why are there numbers in the birds?”
Sophie looked again.
He was right.
Each V-shaped bird contained a tiny penciled number.
Anthony whispered, “Locker.”
The old terminal had once contained coin lockers used by commuters.
Most had been removed decades ago.
Evelyn said, “Vittorio told me David hid something where nobody in the construction world would think to look.”
Julian turned to Helen.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Because David told me not to trust a Marconi.”
Anthony gave a humorless smile.
“Smart man.”
Evelyn looked at him.
“He trusted Vittorio.”
“In the end.”
Sophie noticed the bitterness.
“You still blame him.”
Anthony’s face tightened.
“I blame all of us.”
That was the first time he had included himself.
Cassandra heard it too.
“You filed Melissa’s complaint.”
“Yes.”
“You knew the report had been replaced.”
“Yes.”
“And you let her keep working in that building?”
Anthony’s eyes filled.
“She told me she had one final inspection.”
“You let her go.”
“She was twenty-seven years old, Cassandra. I didn’t own her.”
“You were going to marry her.”
“Yes.”
“Then you should have protected her.”
Anthony’s voice broke.
“I have told myself that every morning for twenty years.”
Cassandra’s anger faltered.
Villains were easier when they felt nothing.
Anthony felt too much.
And had turned that pain into obsession.
Julian placed Vittorio’s watch in his pocket.
“We go to the terminal at daylight.”
“No,” Sophie said.
Everyone looked at her.
“We go after Caleb goes to school.”
Caleb frowned.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Mom, somebody kidnapped an old lady and you think I’m going to algebra?”
“Yes.”
“That’s messed up.”
Despite everything, Evelyn smiled.
Sophie crouched in front of him.
“You are not becoming part of this.”
“They already took my picture.”
“I know.”
“That means I’m already part of it.”
“No. It means adults failed to keep this away from you.”
Caleb glanced at Julian.
“Are those guys outside because of me?”
Julian answered.
“They’re there to make sure nobody bothers you.”
Caleb studied him.
“Are they criminals?”
Sophie closed her eyes.
Julian almost smiled.
“They’re security.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“Caleb.”
“What?”
Julian said, “Some of them have made mistakes.”
Caleb nodded.
“Okay.”
It was the most twelve-year-old acceptance imaginable.
Then he looked at Cassandra.
“Did you hurt my mom?”
The room changed.
Cassandra did not look away.
“Yes.”
Sophie expected an excuse.
None came.
“I threatened her. I frightened her. And I hurt her ribs.”
Caleb’s face hardened.
“Why?”
“Because I was angry at people who weren’t there anymore.”
“That’s dumb.”
“Yes.”
“Are you sorry?”
Cassandra swallowed.
“Yes.”
Caleb looked at Sophie.
“You forgive her?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay.”
He picked up his backpack.
“Can I have pancakes before school?”
After he left with Mrs. Dawson and two security cars discreetly following, Cassandra sat alone at Helen’s kitchen table.
Sophie put a mug of coffee in front of her.
Cassandra looked up.
“This isn’t forgiveness.”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because it’s coffee.”
Something in Cassandra’s face nearly broke.
At Liberty State Park, the old railroad terminal had been renovated, but sections of its original structure remained.
The locker system was gone.
Locker 318 no longer existed.
For one terrible moment, Sophie thought the trail had ended.
Then Caleb’s observation came back to her.
The red building.
Not the lockers.
The picture itself.
Sophie walked the concourse.
Three birds.
One crooked sun.
Blue water.
She stood where a child might have stood to draw the harbor.
The three “birds” were not birds.
They were roof trusses.
Three steel V-shapes.
The “sun” was an old circular clock mounted crooked above an arch.
Sophie pointed.
“There.”
Julian followed her gaze.
Beneath the third truss, one original brick had been replaced.
Anthony stared.
“David.”
Marco carefully removed it.
Behind the brick was a narrow waterproof tube.
Sophie’s heart pounded.
Inside was no inspection report.
Only one Polaroid.
And a brass key.
The photograph showed Richard Hale standing beside a city records clerk.
On a table between them lay the original Riverside report.
On the back, David had written:
IF THIS IS STILL HERE, THE REPORT IS ALREADY SOMEWHERE SAFER.
Sophie nearly screamed.
“Another clue?”
Julian examined the brass key.
Stamped into it:
B-214.
Anthony went still.
“I know that number.”
Cassandra turned.
“What is it?”
Anthony looked at Julian.
“Your father owned a safe-deposit box under a holding company.”
“Where?”
Anthony swallowed.
“Hoboken Federal.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“That bank closed fifteen years ago.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to the boxes?”
Anthony’s expression darkened.
“The contents were transferred.”
“To where?”
He looked at Sophie.
“To Marconi Private Storage.”
Julian stared at him.
“That’s my facility.”
Anthony nodded.
“And box B-214 has been sitting inside your building for fifteen years.”
Julian immediately called Marco’s deputy.
No answer.
He called again.
Nothing.
Then his phone displayed an internal security alert.
MOTION DETECTED — VAULT LEVEL.
Julian’s face hardened.
Someone had entered the storage facility.
He turned toward the parking lot.
“We’re too late.”
Sophie looked at the brass key.
“No.”
She closed her fist around it.
“They still need this.”
Then Julian’s phone showed a second alert.
B-214 ACCESS REQUESTED.
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And beneath it:
AUTHORIZED USER: RICHARD HALE.
