Chapter 6 - THE GODFATHER’S RING
Raffaele Conti had taught Valentino how to drive.
He had taught him how to knot a tie.
He had stood beside him when his father was buried and told a seventeen-year-old boy that grief was not weakness unless it made him cruel.
For most of Valentino’s life, Raffaele had represented safety.
Now his daughters were crying at the sight of his ring.
Valentino watched the footage again.
Then a third time.
Thomas finally shut the laptop.
“Watching it won’t make his face appear.”
“No.”
Valentino’s voice was flat.
“But memory might.”
Becca shook her head.
“Not like that.”
He looked at her.
“You don’t interrogate six-year-olds.”
“I’m not interrogating them.”
“You’re thinking about it.”
That angered him.
She saw it.
Nobody spoke to Valentino Duca that way.
But he looked toward the triplets and the anger vanished.
“What do I do?”
It was the first time he had asked her.
Not ordered.
Asked.
“Let them control it.”
So they did.
No specialists.
No questions fired one after another.
They gave the girls crayons.
Lunch.
Space.
Gia drew shoes.
Mia drew the red bracelet.
Lila drew a bird.
Valentino stared at the bird.
“What does that mean?”
“Could mean a bird,” Becca said.
He almost smiled.
By late afternoon, Mia began playing with Elena’s rosary.
One bead was cracked.
She touched it and said, “Mama broke.”
Valentino stiffened.
“Mama broke the rosary?”
Mia nodded.
“Why?”
The child looked toward the old security image.
Then whispered, “Hide.”
Thomas picked up the rosary carefully.
One bead came loose.
Inside was a folded sliver of photographic film.
They took it to a professional lab owned by a man Marco trusted only after Valentino made him explain exactly why.
The image was damaged but readable.
A ledger page.
Several names.
Initials.
Payments.
And at the bottom:
R.C.
Thomas slapped the table.
“Raffaele.”
“Maybe,” Becca said.
Valentino looked at her.
“You still doubt it?”
“I doubt anything that looks this convenient.”
Thomas studied her.
“She’s annoying.”
Valentino’s mouth twitched.
“She is.”
Becca ignored them.
“What was Raffaele’s motive?”
Valentino leaned against the desk.
“He believed my father made Duca Holdings too legitimate.”
“Meaning?”
“He came from a time when fear was currency. My father wanted out. Restaurants. Commercial property. Imports. Raffaele considered it weakness.”
“So why leave?”
“He didn’t agree with my expansion after Elena became pregnant. We fought. Six months later he retired.”
Thomas looked at the ledger.
“Maybe retirement was cover.”
Marco entered carrying an old personnel archive.
“Raffaele never moved permanently to Sicily.”
Valentino looked up.
Marco placed records on the table.
“He maintained a residence outside Newark under a family trust until fourteen months ago.”
“After Elena died.”
“Yes.”
Becca felt the shape of the mystery tightening.
Then loosening again.
“Where is he now?”
“Assisted living in Palermo.”
Thomas blinked.
“What?”
Marco turned the page.
“Advanced Parkinson’s. Diagnosed nearly five years ago.”
Valentino stared.
“How advanced?”
“Medical records show significant mobility problems before Mrs. Duca’s death.”
The room went quiet.
A man with severe mobility impairment was unlikely to have walked smoothly into the Onyx Room in gray shoes.
Another reversal.
“So someone used his ring,” Becca said.
“And his initials,” Thomas added.
Valentino looked almost relieved.
Then ashamed of being relieved.
Marco continued.
“I also checked the square watch.”
He placed a catalog image on the desk.
It was not Raffaele’s watch.
It was a limited Swiss model.
Only eighty-seven had been sold in the United States that year.
One belonged to Adrian Vale.
Valentino closed his eyes.
Back to Adrian.
Again.
But Becca frowned.
“Gia already said Adrian wasn’t Snake.”
“Children can be mistaken,” Thomas said.
“Yes. So can adults.”
Becca looked toward the drawing table.
Lila had abandoned the bird and was now drawing people.
Four adults.
Three children.
One adult had a square watch.
Another had the red bracelet.
Becca pointed.
“There were two men.”
Lila nodded.
Valentino approached slowly.
“Sweetheart, were Uncle Adrian and Snake both there?”
“Yes.”
“Together?”
“Yes.”
Thomas looked stunned.
“So Adrian lied when he said Elena only trusted him for a while.”
“Or he was protecting something,” Becca said.
They found Adrian at his office.
He did not resist when Valentino entered.
He only looked tired.
“You finally found the camera.”
Valentino stopped.
“You knew.”
“I knew Elena hid something at the restaurant.”
“Were you there with Snake?”
Adrian stared at him for several seconds.
“Yes.”
Valentino’s voice hardened.
“Who was he?”
“I promised Elena I wouldn’t tell you unless the girls remembered on their own.”
“My wife is dead.”
“And she believed telling you too early would get the girls killed.”
Valentino grabbed the edge of Adrian’s desk.
“Stop protecting a dead woman’s plan from her husband.”
Adrian’s face cracked.
“I wasn’t protecting her plan.”
He opened a drawer.
Slowly.
Marco’s hand moved toward his weapon.
Adrian removed a child’s necklace.
Three tiny silver hearts.
Valentino recognized it.
“Elena wore that.”
“She gave it to me that night.”
Adrian pressed the middle heart.
It opened.
Inside was a miniature paper ticket.
A train ticket.
Grand Central to Poughkeepsie.
Dated the morning after Elena died.
“She planned to leave?” Valentino whispered.
Adrian shook his head.
“She planned to take the girls somewhere safe for forty-eight hours.”
“From me?”
“From Snake.”
Valentino stared at him.
“Tell me his name.”
Adrian looked toward the doorway.
The triplets had come in with Becca.
Gia saw the necklace.
Her eyes widened.
“Mama hearts.”
Adrian nodded.
Then he handed the necklace to Valentino.
“I couldn’t tell you because Snake wasn’t working against your family from outside.”
He looked directly at Marco.
Then at Thomas.
May you like
Then back at Valentino.
“He was following orders from someone inside this house.”
