Chapter 6 - THE MAN WHO STOLE A DEAD WOMAN'S NAME
Robert Vale's chair scraped backward.
“I've tolerated enough of this.”
Luca stood between him and the doorway.
“Sit down, Robert.”
Robert looked toward Daniel.
“Am I under arrest?”
“No,” Luca replied. “But my son has identified you as someone who entered his bedroom without permission. I want to know why.”
Robert's face tightened.
“I was checking on the child.”
Noah shook his head.
“You looked under my pillow.”
The room fell silent.
Luca turned slowly.
“Under his pillow?”
Robert said nothing.
Michael's expression grew grim.
“Elena used to hide important notes inside books and clothing. Robert knew that.”
Luca looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because he had worked with Elena's charity programs for years.”
Robert exhaled sharply.
“Yes. I knew her habits. That doesn't prove anything.”
“No,” Luca agreed. “But using my signature to access a hospital locker might.”
Robert looked offended.
“You have no evidence I forged anything.”
Daniel spoke.
“The hospital retained copies of the authorization paperwork. We can request an official review.”
Robert went quiet.
Vanessa stared at him.
“You told me Elena's investigation ended with her death.”
Robert's eyes flashed.
“It should have.”
Anthony looked up sharply.
“What does that mean?”
Robert seemed to realize what he had said.
He rubbed his face.
“I meant there was nothing left to investigate.”
But nobody believed him.
Luca asked Daniel to bring in the police detective who had arrived at the mansion.
Detective Sarah Whitcomb was in her early forties, with tired eyes and a practical gray coat.
She had investigated financial fraud cases for years.
She listened without interrupting as Michael explained the candle signal, the photograph, the coat, and the ledger page.
When he finished, she looked at Luca.
“Your wife's death was ruled accidental. Reopening that investigation requires evidence, not suspicions.”
“I understand.”
“Then don't interfere with anyone who chooses to leave. Preserve everything exactly as you found it.”
Luca nodded.
Robert reached for his coat.
Detective Whitcomb turned toward him.
“Mr. Vale, I'd appreciate your cooperation with a voluntary interview tomorrow.”
Robert forced a smile.
“Of course.”
He left without looking at Vanessa.
The moment he was gone, Anthony lowered himself into a chair.
“He's going to destroy us.”
Vanessa stared at her father.
“You mean the foundation?”
Anthony shook his head.
“The company. The employees. Everything I've spent thirty years building.”
Luca looked at him without sympathy.
“You should have considered that before borrowing money meant for sick children.”
Anthony covered his face.
“I thought I could repair it.”
“That seems to be everyone's excuse tonight,” Luca said.
I had never heard him sound so tired.
Noah was nearly asleep against my shoulder.
Luca noticed.
“Emily, would you help him upstairs?”
“Yes, sir.”
He looked at his son.
“I'll be there in a few minutes, buddy.”
Noah rubbed his eyes.
“Promise?”
Luca knelt.
“I promise.”
Upstairs, I helped Noah change into pajamas.
He insisted on putting the old watch beside his pillow.
I sat on the edge of his bed.
“Miss Emily?”
“Yes?”
“Did Mommy leave because I was bad?”
The question struck me like a physical blow.
“No, sweetheart.”
“Vanessa said Mommy was tired of everyone.”
I swallowed.
“Your mother loved you. Nothing you did caused what happened to her.”
He watched my face.
“Really?”
“Really.”
Then he reached into his nightstand.
He removed a small blue velvet pouch.
“Mommy gave me this too.”
Inside was a silver rosary.
Its tiny cross was worn smooth.
“Grandma's,” he explained.
I recognized it from photographs on his dresser.
Elena wore it around her wrist at church.
“It's beautiful.”
Noah nodded.
“Mommy said when people tell different stories, I should remember what I saw.”
He placed the rosary in my hand.
Then he said something that made me sit very still.
“I saw the car.”
I looked at him.
“What car, sweetheart?”
“Mommy's car. The night she went away.”
“You were at home that night.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“I was with Mr. Michael.”
My heart accelerated.
“Where?”
“At the party.”
I stared at him.
Michael had never mentioned taking Noah to the charity event.
“Why were you there?”
“Mommy wanted me to see the lights. Then she told Mr. Michael to take me home.”
I remembered the drawing.
Four figures.
Three outside.
One inside.
“Noah,” I said carefully, “did you see who got into your mommy's car?”
He nodded.
“Vanessa.”
“Yes, sweetheart. We know that.”
He frowned.
“No. After Vanessa.”
I stopped breathing.
“Someone else?”
He nodded.
“A man.”
“What did he look like?”
Noah thought hard.
“He had a funny hand.”
“A funny hand?”
“One finger didn't bend.”
I leaned closer.
“Which finger?”
He held up his right hand.
Then tucked his little finger against his palm.
“Like this.”
My mind raced.
Robert Vale had kept his hands beneath the table most of the evening.
I hadn't noticed his fingers.
“Did you tell anyone?”
“Mr. Michael said I was dreaming.”
He looked ashamed.
“Maybe I was.”
I held his hand.
“You don't have to decide that tonight.”
A knock sounded at the open doorway.
Luca stood there.
His face softened when he saw Noah.
“Still awake?”
Noah reached for him.
“Daddy, I saw the man.”
Luca sat beside his son.
I explained what Noah had told me.
Luca listened carefully.
Then he asked a question that surprised me.
“Buddy, was the man wearing a ring?”
Noah shook his head.
“No ring.”
“What about his face?”
“I couldn't see. He had his back to me.”
“Anything else?”
Noah thought.
Then he pointed to his own chest.
“He had a red flower here.”
Luca went still.
“What kind of flower?”
“Like Mommy's drawing.”
A red rose.
The symbol used by the foundation.
I remembered Robert's silver tie.
And the red rose pin he had removed from his lapel before dinner.
Luca looked at me.
“Emily, what are you thinking?”
I hesitated.
“Robert wore the foundation's rose pin tonight.”
Luca nodded slowly.
“So did half the guests at Elena's final charity event.”
He was right.
The flower alone proved nothing.
Then Noah whispered:
“The man said, 'She knows about the bridge.'”
Luca's expression changed.
“What bridge?”
Noah shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Luca kissed his forehead.
“Thank you for telling me.”
When Noah finally fell asleep, Luca and I stepped into the hallway.
He looked exhausted.
“I should have listened to him two years ago.”
“You were grieving.”
“I was absent.”
He glanced toward his son's room.
“I thought providing everything was enough.”
I didn't answer.
He looked at me.
“Thank you for being honest with him.”
I lowered my eyes.
“He deserves honesty.”
“Yes,” Luca said quietly. “He does.”
Downstairs, Michael was examining the foundation photograph under a lamp.
Luca joined him.
I followed.
Michael pointed to the background.
A black car was parked near the entrance.
Behind it stood a man wearing a red rose.
His face was partly hidden.
But his right hand rested against the roof.
His little finger was unmistakably bent.
Luca leaned closer.
“Can you identify him?”
Michael's voice shook.
“I can.”
Luca turned.
“Who?”
Michael looked toward Anthony Bellini, who had just entered the room.
May you like
Then he whispered:
“THAT MAN WASN'T ROBERT VALE. HE WAS ANTHONY BELLINI'S BROTHER—VICTOR.”
