Chapter 4 - THE MAN WHO NEVER LEFT THE HARBOR
“Who has been coming to our house, Daniel?”
Luca's voice was gentle, but I could see how tightly he held his father's watch.
Daniel wrinkled his forehead.
“The man with the brown coat.”
Arthur looked sharply toward the doorway.
“What brown coat?”
Daniel glanced at me.
“The one who smells like Grandpa's medicine.”
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room.
Luca crouched in front of his son.
“Did you see him here recently?”
Daniel nodded.
“He came when Vanessa had her birthday dinner.”
I remembered that dinner.
Three months earlier.
Vanessa had invited a small group of wealthy Chicago acquaintances, including a distinguished older man who had arrived late and left before dessert.
He wore a brown cashmere coat.
I'd helped him find the guest bathroom.
He'd introduced himself as Dr. Nathaniel Cross.
Vittorio's private physician.
“Mr. Moretti,” I said, “I think Daniel means Dr. Cross.”
Luca's expression hardened.
“Cross was here?”
“At the birthday dinner.”
“Vanessa told me he was out of the country.”
Arthur closed his eyes.
Luca turned toward him.
“Did you know?”
“I saw him leave through the west entrance, sir.”
“And you didn't tell me?”
Arthur swallowed.
“I believed he was attending to private medical matters.”
Luca looked exhausted.
“Everyone in this house seems to have believed whatever Vanessa told them.”
The words stung Arthur.
But he didn't defend himself.
“You're right, sir.”
Luca took a slow breath.
“Emma, will you stay with Daniel while I speak to the detective?”
“Of course.”
He hesitated.
Then looked directly at me.
“Thank you for protecting my son tonight.”
I didn't know what to say.
For eleven months, he'd barely known my name.
Now he was looking at me as though my opinion mattered.
“Daniel deserved to be heard,” I answered.
Luca nodded.
“Yes. He did.”
After he left, Arthur sat heavily in a chair.
Daniel returned to his drawing.
I turned toward the old butler.
“Arthur, can I ask you something?”
“Anything, dear.”
“Why was Catherine hidden behind that wall?”
His face tightened.
“I'm afraid we won't know until she can explain.”
“But Vanessa said she thought Catherine would be released.”
Arthur looked at me.
“She said that?”
I nodded.
For the first time, he seemed genuinely confused.
“Then she knew there was someone there.”
“That's what it sounded like.”
Arthur slowly removed his glasses.
“Emma, there's something important you should understand about Vanessa.”
I waited.
“When she first came to this house, she wasn't cruel.”
I almost laughed.
Arthur shook his head.
“I know how that sounds. But she spent hours helping Vittorio after his first hospitalization. She brought Daniel books. She volunteered at the children's wing of the hospital.”
“What changed?”
“Her father.”
“Her father?”
Arthur nodded.
“Victor Bellini owned a medical supply company. He was being investigated for financial misconduct. Vanessa thought Luca could help him.”
“Did Luca?”
“He refused.”
I frowned.
“That doesn't explain Catherine.”
“No,” Arthur admitted.
“But it explains why Vanessa began meeting with Dr. Cross.”
Before I could respond, Daniel looked up.
“Grandpa didn't like the brown-coat man.”
Arthur leaned forward.
“Why not?”
“He said the man took things that weren't his.”
“What things?”
Daniel shrugged.
“Papers. And the little red necklace.”
“The bracelet?” I asked.
Daniel shook his head.
“A necklace.”
Arthur stared.
“Your grandmother had a silver anchor necklace too.”
Daniel nodded eagerly.
“That's it.”
He went back to drawing.
I felt another piece of the mystery shifting into place.
The bracelet.
The necklace.
The harbor.
And a doctor who seemed to be connected to all three.
By midnight, the mansion was nearly empty.
The dinner guests had been escorted out after speaking with police.
The basement had been secured.
Catherine was taken to a Chicago hospital under police protection.
And Vanessa was sitting in a downstairs office with her attorney, waiting to be interviewed.
Nobody had arrested her yet.
Luca was furious.
But Detective Rachel Monroe, a calm woman in her forties, had explained that suspicion was not enough.
They needed to establish who had confined Catherine, how she had survived, and whether her account could be corroborated.
I was preparing Daniel's bedroom when Luca appeared in the doorway.
“He's asleep?”
“Almost.”
Daniel lay beneath a blue blanket, holding the silver bell against his chest.
Luca approached the bed.
“Buddy?”
Daniel opened one eye.
“Daddy?”
“Can I have the bell tonight?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Will you give it back?”
“I promise.”
Daniel handed it over.
Luca kissed his forehead.
“I love you.”
Daniel smiled sleepily.
“Love you too.”
Then he whispered:
“Don't let the brown-coat man take Grandpa's watch.”
Luca went still.
“Why?”
“He wants it.”
“Did he tell you that?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Grandpa did.”
Luca stayed beside the bed until Daniel fell asleep.
Then he turned to me.
“Emma, I need your help.”
I followed him into the hallway.
“What can I do?”
“My father kept his sailing records in the library. Arthur says you helped organize the shelves last winter.”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember a book about Lake Michigan?”
I thought for a moment.
“Dark blue cover. Gold lettering?”
His eyes sharpened.
“That's it.”
“I put it on the top shelf near the fireplace.”
Luca looked toward the staircase.
“Come with me.”
The old library smelled of leather and cedar.
Vittorio's reading glasses still rested beside a half-finished crossword puzzle.
For a moment, Luca stood quietly in the doorway.
“He used to bring me here when I couldn't sleep,” he said.
I looked at the armchair.
“Daniel told me the same thing.”
Luca nodded.
“My father was better with children than I am.”
“You can learn.”
He looked at me.
I worried I'd spoken too freely.
But Luca gave a tired smile.
“I intend to.”
We found the blue book exactly where I'd left it.
Inside were old photographs of sailboats, marina receipts, and newspaper clippings about the 1998 accident.
One page had been marked with a pressed white flower.
Luca opened it.
A photograph showed Isabella Moretti standing beside a sailboat.
Next to her was a younger Vittorio.
And behind them stood a handsome man wearing a brown coat.
Luca stared.
“That isn't Cross.”
I leaned closer.
“Who is it?”
“My uncle.”
“Your uncle?”
Luca nodded.
“Adrian Moretti. My father's younger brother.”
I frowned.
“I thought he lived in Switzerland.”
“He does.”
“Then why would Daniel recognize him?”
Luca studied the photograph.
For several seconds, he didn't answer.
Then he reached for another picture tucked inside the book.
It showed Adrian standing beside Dr. Cross at a charity event just four months earlier.
On the back, Vittorio had written one sentence.
Adrian never stopped protecting the man who was on the boat.
Luca's face hardened.
“Adrian.”
I felt a chill.
“Do you think he was involved in Isabella's accident?”
“I don't know.”
He placed the photograph on the desk.
“But my father clearly believed he was hiding something.”
Then I noticed the corner of a cream-colored envelope beneath the book.
“Mr. Moretti?”
Luca lifted it.
The envelope contained a marina storage receipt.
Locker 17.
Paid annually for twenty-eight years.
The final payment had been made six weeks before Vittorio's death.
But the payer wasn't Vittorio.
It was Adrian Moretti.
Luca stared at the signature.
Then he opened the attached inventory slip.
His expression changed so completely that I stepped closer.
“What is it?”
He turned the paper toward me.
Three items were listed.
One silver anchor necklace.
One woman's coat.
And one sealed evidence box.
At the bottom was a delivery instruction written in Adrian's handwriting.
Release only upon presentation of Vittorio Moretti's gold watch.
Luca looked down at the watch in his hand.
May you like
And then he whispered:
“MY UNCLE HAS BEEN PAYING TO KEEP MY MOTHER'S THINGS HIDDEN FOR TWENTY-EIGHT YEARS.”
