Chapter 7 - The Name Hidden in Caleb’s Ledger
The face belonged to Dr. Samuel Vale.
Vincent’s private physician.
The man who had treated him after the poisoning.
Vincent ran.
By the time they reached the kitchen, Vale was gone.
The soup remained.
Testing revealed poison.
Not enough to kill Vincent immediately.
Enough to keep him sick.
Norah stared at the report.
“They weren’t trying to kill you.”
Vincent understood.
“They were keeping me weak.”
A weakened boss created instability.
Instability created opportunity.
Russo hadn’t wanted Vincent dead too soon.
He wanted Vincent sick enough that his organization fractured from within.
Vale had controlled the symptoms.
Russo had controlled the fear.
And someone had controlled the cameras.
But the photograph of Caleb and Enzo remained unexplained.
Enzo finally told the truth.
Two years earlier, Caleb had approached him.
He wanted work.
Enzo gave him low-level deliveries.
Caleb began gambling with men he met through those jobs.
“I tried to keep him away from the serious business,” Enzo said.
Norah stared at him.
“You never told me.”
“I promised Caleb.”
“You protected his secret while I paid his debt.”
Enzo lowered his head.
“Yes.”
Norah slapped him.
Nobody moved.
Enzo accepted it.
Vincent did too.
Then Caleb’s hidden ledger arrived.
A courier left it at the gate.
No return address.
Inside were dates.
Payments.
Initials.
And one repeated name.
S.V.
Samuel Vale.
Another appeared beside larger payments.
A.C.
Norah turned pages.
“Who is A.C.?”
Vincent didn’t answer.
She looked up.
His face had changed.
“Vincent?”
He closed the ledger.
“Adrian Caruso.”
“Mrs. Caruso’s husband?”
“Teresa’s husband.”
Norah stared.
“You said Teresa disappeared.”
“She did.”
“And Adrian?”
Vincent looked toward the window.
“My father killed him.”
The room went still.
Now Teresa’s return made sense.
Revenge.
But not everything.
If Teresa wanted Vincent dead, why claim she had only drugged him for a blood test?
Why warn them about Enzo?
Why preserve evidence?
Norah returned to the recipe book fragment.
Numbers.
Initials.
Dates.
Then she noticed Caleb had circled one date.
The day Vincent was poisoned.
Beside it:
A.C. ALIVE.
Vincent read it.
Impossible.
Adrian Caruso had supposedly died twenty years earlier.
Yet Caleb’s ledger claimed he had received money six months ago.
A knock sounded.
Mrs. Caruso entered.
She saw the name.
The tray slipped from her hands.
Vincent stood.
“Angela.”
She began crying.
“You weren’t supposed to find that.”
“Is Adrian alive?”
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Vincent’s voice turned cold.
“Where?”
Angela looked at Norah instead.
“Closer than you think.”
The mansion intercom suddenly crackled.
A man began speaking.
“Vincent.”
Angela went white.
May you like
Vincent recognized the voice.
And somewhere beneath the mansion, a locked door began opening.
