Chapter 8 - THE LAST SECRET ELENA HID
Luca stared at the report.
For the first time since I'd met him, he looked completely helpless.
“Someone cut her brakes?”
Detective Whitcomb placed the papers carefully on the table.
“The original examiner suspected deliberate damage. That observation was not included in the final accident summary.”
Michael closed his eyes.
Anthony sat motionless.
Vanessa began to cry.
But Luca didn't move.
“Who changed the report?”
Whitcomb turned another page.
“The final revision was approved by an outside review consultant retained by the foundation.”
“Name?”
“Robert Vale.”
I felt cold all over.
Robert hadn't simply been hiding stolen money.
He had helped bury evidence of what happened to Elena.
Luca slowly stood.
“Find him.”
Whitcomb raised a hand.
“My department will handle that. If you want justice for your wife, don't give anyone a reason to challenge the evidence.”
Luca looked toward the staircase.
His son was asleep.
For two years, Noah had waited for his father to understand four candles.
Now Luca finally understood what that little boy had been carrying.
“I won't interfere,” he said.
It sounded like the hardest promise he'd ever made.
Whitcomb stepped into the hallway to contact her department.
Michael remained near the fireplace.
He looked older than he had an hour earlier.
“Mr. Moretti,” he said quietly, “there's something I need to tell you.”
Luca turned.
“What now?”
Michael swallowed.
“Elena asked me to investigate Victor Bellini before she died.”
Anthony lifted his head.
“She suspected my brother?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?” Luca demanded.
“Because she didn't have proof. And because I made a terrible mistake.”
Michael lowered himself into a chair.
“The night of the charity event, Elena asked me to take Noah home before the speeches ended. She said she'd follow in twenty minutes.”
I remembered Noah's account.
He had seen the car.
The red rose.
The man with the crooked finger.
“What happened?” Luca asked.
“On the way home, Noah told me he had seen Victor get into Elena's car. I called her.”
“Did she answer?”
“Yes.”
Michael's voice cracked.
“She said Victor was showing her evidence against Robert. She told me not to worry.”
Luca stared.
“She trusted Victor?”
“She wanted to believe he was helping her.”
“And you believed her?”
Michael looked at the floor.
“I did.”
His hands trembled.
“When I heard about the accident, I convinced myself Noah had misunderstood what he saw. I couldn't bear the thought that I'd left Elena alone with someone dangerous.”
A long silence followed.
Then Luca asked, “Did you tell the police?”
Michael nodded.
“I reported that Noah mentioned Victor. It wasn't included in the final statement.”
Whitcomb returned just as he spoke.
She looked sharply at Michael.
“You'll need to give me that account formally.”
“I will.”
Luca turned away.
He walked toward the window and stood looking into the dark grounds.
Nobody approached him.
After a while, he spoke without turning around.
“I blamed myself because Elena and I argued that morning.”
Vanessa lifted her head.
Luca continued.
“She wanted me to review the foundation's accounts. I told her I was busy. We had investors coming from New York.”
His voice grew rough.
“She said there were children depending on that money.”
I looked down.
“I told her to stop looking for problems.”
Michael closed his eyes.
Luca swallowed.
“She said, 'One day, Luca, you might wish you'd listened when someone tried to tell you the truth.'”
He finally turned around.
“That was our last real conversation.”
No one spoke.
Then Noah's small voice came from the doorway.
“Daddy?”
He stood barefoot in his pajamas, holding his blanket.
Luca crossed the room immediately.
“Buddy, what are you doing awake?”
“I had the dream again.”
Luca knelt.
“What dream?”
“The road.”
Noah rubbed his eyes.
“The car kept going, and Mommy couldn't stop.”
Luca's face twisted.
He pulled his son into his arms.
“I've got you.”
Noah whispered, “Is Mommy still on the road?”
I covered my mouth.
Luca held him tighter.
“No, sweetheart. She's not hurting anymore.”
“Did she know I loved her?”
Luca closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because she told me every day.”
Noah leaned against him.
“Will you go away too?”
Luca's voice broke.
“I'm going to do everything I can to come home to you, buddy.”
For a long time, nobody moved.
Then Noah lifted his head.
“Daddy, Mommy left you a letter.”
Luca stared.
“What?”
Noah pointed toward the silver rosary I'd placed on the side table.
“She said it was for when the grown-ups stopped fighting.”
I picked up the rosary.
The small cross felt unusually heavy.
Michael frowned.
“Elena's mother wore that for forty years.”
Noah nodded.
“Mommy said the cross opens.”
I examined it.
There was a tiny hinge at the bottom.
With careful pressure, it separated.
Inside lay a tightly rolled strip of paper.
My hands shook as I passed it to Luca.
He unfolded it slowly.
Elena's handwriting filled both sides.
The message was addressed to her husband.
Luca read aloud.
“My love, if you're reading this, something has gone terribly wrong.”
His voice faltered.
He continued.
“I know you think I'm worrying unnecessarily. I wish that were true. The missing funds are real, and I believe someone has been using the children's foundation to conceal payments connected to Victor's transportation company.”
Anthony covered his face.
Luca kept reading.
“I've discovered that the money taken from St. Agnes was only part of a larger arrangement. Someone is using the foundation to pay people who should never have received charitable funds.”
Whitcomb leaned closer.
“Does she identify them?”
Luca turned the paper over.
His face changed.
“She wrote down account numbers and contract dates.”
Then he reached the final paragraph.
His voice became barely audible.
“Luca, I don't believe everyone involved understands what they're doing. Anthony is frightened. Vanessa is desperate to protect him. Robert is hiding something. But Victor is the one I fear most.”
A tear fell onto the paper.
He wiped it away.
Then read the last lines.
“I have arranged to meet Victor tonight because he claims he can prove Robert took the money. I will not go somewhere private with him. If anything happens to me, look at the bridge photograph in my necklace.”
Luca stopped.
Whitcomb leaned forward.
“What does it say?”
Luca swallowed.
“The proof isn't on the road. It's beneath it.”
Michael looked toward the photograph.
The green maintenance building.
The white truck.
The narrow bridge.
Whitcomb's expression sharpened.
“The maintenance building may have surveillance equipment, archived work records, or other evidence.”
Luca continued reading.
There was one final sentence.
It was written smaller than the others.
Almost hurriedly.
“IF VICTOR TELLS YOU I DIED BECAUSE I LOST CONTROL, ASK HIM WHY ROBERT PAID TO HAVE THE BRIDGE CAMERAS TURNED OFF.”
Whitcomb immediately contacted the traffic authority.
Twenty minutes later, she received a preliminary response.
The bridge cameras had indeed been disabled for maintenance that night.
But one camera had remained operational.
It belonged to the private utility company that maintained the green building.
The footage had been archived.
And its records showed that someone had requested a copy eleven days after Elena's funeral.
Whitcomb read the request form.
Her expression changed.
“The person who requested the footage signed Luca's name.”
Luca's face hardened.
“Again.”
Whitcomb continued.
“But the pickup receipt includes a photograph of the person collecting it.”
She turned the screen.
I leaned forward.
The image showed Robert Vale.
Standing beside Victor Bellini.
And between them was a woman wearing a cream coat.
Vanessa stared at the screen.
“That isn't me.”
Luca examined the woman's face.
He went completely still.
“Michael,” he whispered, “look at her.”
Michael leaned closer.
May you like
Then his expression collapsed.
“THAT'S AMELIA VOSS,” HE SAID. “ELENA'S ATTORNEY.”
