Chapter 8 - THE TRUTH INSIDE THE GOLD WATCH
“My father knew who pushed my mother?”
Luca stared at Detective Monroe.
She nodded.
“That's what Margaret claims.”
Arthur looked stricken.
“That can't be right.”
Luca turned toward him.
“Why not?”
“Because your father spent years trying to discover what happened.”
“Or he spent years trying to prove something he already suspected.”
The old butler lowered his eyes.
Luca walked to the window.
Outside, the Chicago sky was turning dark.
For nearly three decades, he'd believed his mother died in an accident.
Now everything he'd trusted was falling apart.
His uncle.
His father.
His fiancée.
Even the home where he'd grown up.
I stood near the fireplace, watching him.
He looked less like the powerful man who controlled a criminal empire and more like a son who had lost his mother all over again.
“Mr. Moretti,” I said gently, “your father left the watch for a reason.”
He turned.
“The watch?”
“Yes. The photograph. The number seventeen. Everything led us to the marina.”
Luca looked down at the gold watch.
“Maybe he wanted me to finish what he couldn't.”
Arthur nodded.
“That's exactly what he wanted.”
Luca opened the case.
The tiny photograph of Isabella rested inside.
He studied it.
Then frowned.
“Emma, bring me the lamp.”
I moved it closer.
He tilted the watch beneath the light.
A faint line ran along the inner edge.
“What is that?” I asked.
Luca touched the metal.
“A second compartment.”
Arthur leaned forward.
“Your father never mentioned one.”
Luca carefully pressed the tiny latch.
The backing lifted.
Inside lay a thin strip of photographic film.
And a folded piece of paper.
His hands trembled.
He opened the note.
Luca, if you've found this, I failed to tell you the truth while I was alive.
He stopped reading.
Arthur whispered, “Go on, son.”
Luca swallowed.
Your mother discovered that Adrian and Victor were using our shipping business to move stolen medical supplies. She planned to report them.
She knew the evidence was hidden on the boat.
I followed her to the marina, but I arrived too late.
Luca's breathing changed.
He continued.
Adrian was on the deck. Victor was near the wheel. Margaret tried to protect Isabella.
I saw Adrian push your mother.
Arthur covered his face.
Luca stared at the words.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then he read the final paragraph.
I wanted to kill him. But Margaret begged me to protect the children. Adrian threatened you, Luca, and Vanessa, who was only a little girl.
I made the worst decision of my life.
I stayed silent.
And I have spent every day since trying to undo it.
Luca lowered the paper.
His face was pale.
“My father knew.”
Arthur began crying.
“I never knew he saw it happen.”
Luca looked at the photograph.
“Adrian murdered my mother.”
Detective Monroe spoke carefully.
“The note is important evidence, but we'll still need to corroborate the account.”
Luca nodded slowly.
“I understand.”
Then he looked at Arthur.
“My father let me believe she was careless.”
Arthur whispered, “He was terrified of losing you too.”
Luca turned toward the window.
“He lost me anyway.”
The following morning, independent doctors confirmed that Margaret was stable enough for a short interview.
Luca went to the care facility with Detective Monroe.
Vanessa was permitted to attend under supervision because Margaret had specifically asked for her daughter.
I remained at the mansion with Daniel.
He was sitting beside Vittorio's music box when Luca called.
“Emma?”
“Yes, Mr. Moretti?”
“Margaret told us what happened.”
I sat.
“Is she all right?”
“She will need a lot of care.”
“And Vanessa?”
“She finally heard the truth about her childhood.”
Luca paused.
“Victor told Vanessa that Margaret abandoned the family. Later he claimed Margaret was severely ill and couldn't live at home.”
I closed my eyes.
“How awful.”
“He kept her isolated because she could identify Adrian.”
“And Vanessa believed him?”
“For years.”
I looked at the little red bracelet lying beside the music box.
“Does Margaret remember it?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Luca's voice softened.
“She said Isabella gave it to her the morning of the accident.”
I stared at the beads.
“Why?”
“Because Margaret was frightened. Isabella promised that if anything happened, she'd make sure Vanessa was protected.”
The bracelet hadn't been a warning.
It had been a promise between two mothers.
I thought of Daniel's drawing.
Don't forget her.
Vittorio had been trying to fulfill that promise.
Even after his wife died.
Even after his own health failed.
“Emma,” Luca said, “there's something else.”
“What?”
“Margaret says the cassette tape isn't the most important evidence.”
I frowned.
“Then what is?”
“The photographic film inside the watch.”
I looked toward the window.
“Did the police develop it?”
“They're working on it.”
He hesitated.
“Margaret says Isabella took photographs of the shipping records aboard the boat.”
“And the film survived?”
“My father apparently recovered it.”
I looked at the gold watch sitting on the table.
“Then why didn't he give it to the police?”
Luca's voice became quiet.
“Because he was afraid Adrian had people inside the investigation.”
“And now?”
“Now Detective Monroe is using an independent forensic team.”
I felt a flicker of hope.
For the first time, the truth seemed within reach.
Then Luca said:
“Emma, I need you to do something.”
“What?”
“Check Daniel's room. Make sure nobody has entered it.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“Because the police found something disturbing in Cross's records.”
“What?”
“A list of people he considered threats.”
I looked toward Daniel, who was humming beside the music box.
“Was Daniel on it?”
Luca hesitated.
“Yes.”
My heart stopped.
Then he continued.
“So were Catherine, Arthur, and you.”
I gripped the phone.
“Me?”
“Your name was added last night.”
I stared at the little boy.
“Why?”
“Because you recognized the sealed service entrance.”
A cold feeling spread through me.
Luca's voice hardened.
“Emma, stay inside the house. Marco is securing every entrance.”
Before I could answer, Daniel looked up from the music box.
“Emma?”
I turned.
“Yes?”
He held out a small photograph.
“Grandpa said this was the last picture.”
I approached.
The photograph showed Vittorio standing beside his old sailboat.
Behind him was a younger Adrian.
And beside Adrian stood Dr. Cross.
But there was another figure in the background.
A man wearing a dark suit.
His face was partly hidden.
Daniel pointed at him.
“That's the man Grandpa didn't like.”
I looked closer.
A silver ring gleamed on the man's hand.
I recognized it.
I'd seen that ring at Vanessa's birthday dinner.
And at the mansion's Christmas party.
My stomach dropped.
“Daniel, where did Grandpa keep this?”
“In his book.”
I turned the photograph over.
Vittorio had written a date.
Three months before his death.
And beneath it:
Victor is not the one giving the orders.
I stared at the picture.
Then at the silver ring.
The man wasn't Victor Bellini.
It was someone far closer to Luca.
Someone who had spent years pretending to be loyal.
Someone who had been inside the mansion throughout the entire investigation.
I picked up the phone.
“Mr. Moretti?”
Luca answered immediately.
“What is it?”
May you like
My voice trembled.
“YOU NEED TO COME HOME. I KNOW WHO'S BEEN GIVING CROSS HIS ORDERS.”
