Chapter 4 - THE SIGNATURE HE COULDN'T REMEMBER
“You were at Pier Nine that night.”
Sebastian stared at his father.
“No. I was at the company headquarters.”
Vittorio shook his head.
“You came to the terminal before the board meeting. You signed the emergency authorization yourself.”
“What authorization?”
“The transfer that kept our shipping licenses and payroll accounts from being frozen.”
Sebastian looked toward Marcus.
“Find my schedule from that evening.”
Marcus immediately began searching.
Vittorio gave a tired laugh.
“Seven years, Sebastian. You think a calendar will tell you what happened seven years ago?”
“No,” Sebastian answered. “But apparently my father won't tell me either.”
Vittorio looked wounded.
For one brief moment, I wondered whether he genuinely believed he'd done the right thing.
Then Sebastian held out his hand.
“Your office keys, Father.”
Vittorio didn't move.
“Until we know what's happening with those foundation accounts, you're not entering the records office.”
“You're removing me from my own company?”
“I'm protecting it from another decision you refuse to explain.”
Vittorio slowly placed his keys on the desk.
Then he looked at me.
“You've been here eleven months, young lady. Be careful how quickly you decide who's innocent.”
He left without another word.
I didn't answer.
But his warning stayed with me.
The next morning, Sebastian took Marcus and me to the company's former terminal offices near the Brooklyn waterfront.
Evelyn remained at the estate under the protection of two security officers.
Sebastian had insisted I accompany him because I'd handled the old archival inventory during a recent renovation.
He also told me something I'd never heard from an employer before.
“Lauren, if you want no part of this, you can return home. Your position and salary are safe.”
I thought of my father struggling to lift his right hand during rehabilitation.
I thought of Brianna ordering me onto my knees.
Then I thought of Evelyn sitting alone while eighty-two guests watched.
“I want to help,” I said.
Sebastian nodded.
“Then you'll be treated like someone helping, not someone taking orders.”
At the terminal, we climbed a narrow staircase to a corridor lined with abandoned offices.
Room 32 stood at the far end.
The brass key turned with difficulty.
Inside were old filing cabinets, shipping maps, and several wooden boxes.
Dust covered everything.
Marcus checked the security seals.
“This room hasn't been officially opened in six years.”
Sebastian looked around.
“My mother came here?”
“According to the access records, she was the last authorized visitor.”
That surprised him.
Margaret Russo had rarely involved herself publicly in company operations.
But Evelyn had said Margaret knew far more about the business than anyone realized.
We began searching.
Two hours later, I discovered a blue folder tucked inside an old accounting manual.
Its cover read:
HARBOR RELIEF — PRIVATE REVIEW — M.R.
Inside were photocopied bank instructions, handwritten calculations, and a list of payments.
Thirty-one million dollars.
Divided among four companies.
All four had eventually purchased shares in Pier Nine Holdings.
“Mr. Russo,” I called.
Sebastian crossed the room.
He examined the documents.
His expression became darker with every page.
“These aren't ordinary operating transfers.”
Marcus studied the companies.
“They're controlled through separate ownership trusts.”
Sebastian pointed to a signature.
It was his name.
Sebastian A. Russo.
My heart sank.
Vittorio had been telling the truth about one thing.
Sebastian's signature appeared on the original authorization.
He stared at it.
“I remember signing emergency financing papers that afternoon.”
Marcus looked concerned.
“Could these have been among them?”
“No.”
“How can you be sure?”
Sebastian turned the page.
“Because this authorization identifies me as acting foundation chairman.”
He looked at us.
“I didn't become chairman until the following year.”
For several seconds, none of us spoke.
Then I noticed the company stamp.
It had been pressed over the signature, leaving a circular impression in the paper.
“Mr. Russo, what does that stamp mean?”
“Every authorized transaction was registered by the accounting office.”
“Who controlled that office?”
Sebastian checked the signature line at the bottom.
His expression changed.
“Brianna.”
The document bore her initials.
B.C. — VERIFIED.
I looked toward the window.
The Hudson River moved beyond the old warehouses.
Seven years earlier, Brianna had married Adrian.
And that same evening, she'd verified paperwork carrying a signature Sebastian insisted had been placed on a document dated incorrectly.
“Do you think she knew?” I asked.
Sebastian didn't answer.
He kept turning pages.
Near the back, we found a handwritten notation from Margaret Russo.
The signatures alone will not expose this. Find the person who stamped them.
Below it was another line.
Ask Evelyn for photograph seventeen.
Sebastian stopped.
He called Marcus over.
“Bring Mrs. Porter here with her original negatives.”
Evelyn arrived shortly after lunch.
She carried a narrow black case containing photographic sleeves.
When Sebastian mentioned photograph seventeen, she covered her mouth.
“Your mother told me never to surrender that picture unless someone found the blue folder.”
She opened the case.
Inside was an old color photograph showing a young Brianna standing outside the Connecticut chapel.
Adrian was beside her.
Behind them, partially visible through a car window, sat another man.
Vittorio Russo.
Sebastian examined the picture.
“So Father attended the wedding.”
Evelyn nodded.
“He arranged the ceremony.”
I looked at her.
“Why would he help Adrian marry Brianna, then pretend they were strangers?”
Evelyn turned the photograph over.
On the back, Margaret had written:
He gave her the company seal the following morning.
Sebastian slowly lowered the picture.
Then Marcus discovered something else in the folder.
A payment receipt dated three days after Adrian disappeared.
It showed $480,000 transferred from Pier Nine Holdings to a private account.
The beneficiary was Brianna Caldwell.
Sebastian stared at the amount.
“She told me she hadn't seen a dollar from Adrian since he vanished.”
Evelyn's eyes filled with sadness.
“Perhaps she was telling you the truth.”
Sebastian frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Evelyn pointed to the authorization.
“That payment wasn't signed by Adrian.”
May you like
She swallowed.
“It was signed by your father.”
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