Chapter 4 - THE SIGNATURE OF A DEAD MAN
"That's impossible," Victor said.
Dante pushed the consent form across the desk.
"Read the date."
Victor didn't move.
"Medical paperwork is frequently prepared in advance."
"With the patient's signature?"
"Your signature may have been transferred from an earlier authorization."
Dante turned toward Dr. Bell.
"Is that a legitimate medical procedure?"
Bell's silence answered before his mouth did.
"No," he admitted.
Isabella sat down heavily.
Dante looked at her.
"Did you sign that paper?"
"No."
"Did you know somebody had?"
"No, Dante. I swear."
He wanted to believe her.
But he had just discovered that the people closest to him had allowed him to live with equipment inside his body without understanding what it was.
His trust was already hanging by a thread.
Victor reached for the binder.
"Let me investigate the discrepancy."
Dante placed his hand over it.
"You're not taking anything."
"You're becoming unreasonable."
"Then get used to it."
Anna stood beside Sophie, watching the exchange.
She had never seen anyone speak to Victor that way.
And she had never seen Victor look so carefully at an ordinary piece of paper.
Bell finally cleared his throat.
"The initial operation was authorized through Isabella's healthcare proxy. That authorization was valid. The separate patient-consent form should not have been completed while you were unconscious."
"Who completed it?"
"I don't know."
Dante studied the doctor.
"Then you signed off on a procedure without checking the paperwork?"
Bell lowered his gaze.
"I signed the clinical report. I relied on the administrative staff for the authorization records."
"That was a mistake."
"Yes."
It was the first unqualified admission Dante had heard all afternoon.
Victor rose.
"I suggest we stop this interrogation before your condition deteriorates further."
Dante looked toward Anna.
"Take Sophie to the kitchen. Mrs. Caruso will find her something to eat."
Anna hesitated.
"Will you be all right?"
Dante almost answered automatically.
Then he stopped.
"I don't know."
The admission surprised them both.
"But I'm going to find out."
Anna led Sophie toward the door.
The little girl paused.
"Mister Dante?"
"Yes?"
"Can I have my picture back?"
He looked down at the drawing beside his hand.
"Why?"
"So you don't forget what the bug looks like."
His throat tightened.
"I think I'd better keep it."
Sophie considered that.
"Okay. But don't let the mean man take it."
Victor heard every word.
Dante placed the drawing inside the medical binder.
"I won't."
By evening, Dante had arranged an independent examination at a Boston hospital unaffiliated with Dr. Bell's private clinic.
Victor protested repeatedly.
Dante ignored him.
He chose a neurologist named Dr. Miriam Cho, whose professional history and hospital credentials were available for anyone to verify.
He wanted someone Victor had never recommended.
Anna expected to remain at the mansion.
Instead, Dante asked her to accompany him.
"You noticed the exposed metal," he explained. "I want an honest witness."
Victor objected.
"You're placing extraordinary trust in an employee you've known for six months."
Dante looked directly at him.
"That's longer than I've been able to trust my own memory."
At the hospital, Dr. Cho listened without interruption.
She examined the scar, reviewed the surgical documents, and ordered imaging appropriate for the implanted equipment.
Anna waited in the consultation room while Dante underwent the tests.
Isabella sat across from her.
For several minutes, neither woman spoke.
Then Isabella broke the silence.
"You must think I'm terrible."
Anna looked up.
"I think he's frightened."
"He never used to be."
"Maybe he was. Maybe he just didn't show it."
Isabella stared at the floor.
"Before the explosion, he was different."
"Different how?"
"Decisive. Difficult. Sometimes frightening."
Her voice softened.
"But he never doubted himself."
Anna considered that.
"Perhaps somebody should have helped him learn the difference between doubt and helplessness."
Isabella looked sharply at her.
Anna didn't apologize.
She had spent too many years being spoken to as though her paycheck determined the value of her opinions.
When Dante returned, Dr. Cho placed two images on an illuminated screen.
"The original device was intended to stimulate nerves involved in your pain," she explained.
She pointed toward a small curved component.
"This was the first lead assembly."
Then she indicated a second cluster of hardware.
"This appears to be part of the later revision."
Dante leaned forward.
"Why are there two?"
"The revised system uses additional anchors and a different receiver."
"Can you tell whether it's working properly?"
"Not from an image alone."
She pointed toward the scar.
"However, some hardware has migrated toward the skin. That needs attention."
Anna thought of Sophie's description.
Four little legs.
Her daughter had seen something important without understanding what it meant.
"Could somebody intentionally use the controller to cause pain?" Dante asked.
Dr. Cho chose her words carefully.
"A device operated outside its prescribed settings can cause serious discomfort. Whether that happened requires examining the programming history."
"What about my memory?"
"The original brain injury is real. Nothing here proves otherwise. But severe pain, disrupted sleep, sedating medication, and repeated episodes of distress can worsen concentration and memory."
Dante stared at the screen.
"So I might be injured and deliberately made worse."
"That's a possibility we should investigate. It isn't a conclusion yet."
He appreciated her honesty more than she could know.
She wasn't promising a miraculous cure.
She wasn't telling him everything would be fine.
She was treating him like a man entitled to understand his own body.
Dr. Cho recommended monitoring, a medication review, and a controlled evaluation of the implant before any attempt to remove or deactivate components.
"Please don't stop your prescriptions suddenly," she added. "Some need to be adjusted gradually."
Dante nodded.
For once, he didn't feel ashamed of needing help.
On the drive home, he studied the old leather ledger that had fallen from his chest in the library.
It contained property accounts and shipping records from before the explosion.
Most of the entries were ordinary.
Then he found a page marked with a faded red line.
HARBOR RENEWAL — PIER 14
Beneath it were figures totaling nearly eighteen million dollars.
The figures had been crossed out.
In the margin, written in Dante's own handwriting, were four words.
HOLD. MARCO MUST EXPLAIN.
Marco DeLuca.
His dead driver.
Dante closed his eyes.
He could almost remember sitting beside Marco in the sedan.
Something about the waterfront.
Something about families who would lose their homes.
Then the memory dissolved.
Anna noticed his expression.
"Are you hurting?"
"Not exactly."
He showed her the page.
"I think Marco was trying to tell me something before he died."
Back at the mansion, Dante found a sealed envelope waiting on his desk.
It had been delivered by the board secretary, not Victor.
Inside was a formal notice from the Moretti Family Holdings board.
An emergency meeting had been scheduled for nine the following morning.
The stated purpose was to review Dante's ability to manage company assets.
Attached was a statement describing confusion, paranoia, and inappropriate behavior toward employees.
Dante recognized Victor's language immediately.
Then he reached the final page.
A section titled SUPPORTING WITNESS OBSERVATIONS carried a statement supposedly written by Anna Miller.
It claimed Dante had become dangerous and was incapable of making rational decisions.
At the bottom appeared Anna's signature.
Dante carried the page into the kitchen.
Anna read it once.
Then again.
Her face turned white.
"I never wrote this."
"Are you certain?"
She looked at him in disbelief.
"Mr. Moretti, I would never say these things."
Dante pointed toward the signature.
"Then whose handwriting is that?"
Anna stared at the page.
"It's supposed to be mine."
Her eyes filled.
"But somebody forged it."
Dante turned to the notice again.
Victor hadn't merely tried to discredit him.
May you like
He had used a frightened single mother to build the case against him.
And in less than twelve hours, the board would decide whether Dante Moretti was fit to control his own empire.
