Chapter 4 - The Ledger Behind the Locked Door
Lorenzo grabbed his coat and ordered, "Nobody leaves this estate alone."
Matteo sent a security image from the warehouse.
A hooded figure stood in front of locker 417.
On the person's wrist was Charles Gallagher's gold watch.
Beatrice enlarged the image.
Her father's watch had been sitting on his dresser the night they left.
Unless the person in the photograph had taken it.
Or Charles had followed them to Sicily.
"Lorenzo."
"I see it."
"That's his watch."
"Are you certain?"
"I bought it for him."
Lorenzo's expression hardened.
The convoy left twelve minutes later.
Beatrice refused to stay behind.
Lorenzo argued once.
She answered once.
"If my father spent my entire life keeping me away from the truth, I am not sitting in your house while someone destroys it."
Lorenzo looked at her.
Then nodded.
"Stay beside me."
The warehouse stood near an industrial district outside Palermo.
Police lights would have attracted attention, so Lorenzo used private security instead.
The front gate was open.
No guard answered.
Matteo met them near the entrance.
"Security system went offline for eleven minutes."
"Casualties?" Lorenzo asked.
"One guard unconscious. Alive."
They entered.
Rows of storage cages stretched beneath fluorescent lights.
Locker 417 was in the rear.
Its door hung open.
Empty shelves.
Beatrice stared.
"We're too late."
Matteo crouched near the floor.
"Maybe not."
He picked up a torn envelope.
Inside was a small brass token.
A number had been stamped into it.
Lorenzo looked at Matteo.
"Train station?"
"Could be."
Beatrice noticed something else.
A thin strip of paper beneath the shelf.
She bent down.
Lorenzo's hand moved automatically toward her shoulder.
"Wait."
"It's paper."
"It could be anything."
She gave him a look.
He sighed.
"Fine."
Beatrice used a handkerchief to pull it free.
It was part of an old receipt.
Only a few words remained.
GAL...
PRIVATE DEPOSIT...
BOX 62.
"Gal?" Beatrice said.
Matteo took the slip.
"Gallagher?"
Lorenzo shook his head.
"Or Galleria."
He looked at the token.
"Private deposit facility near Teatro Massimo. Old banking arcade."
Matteo nodded.
"I know it."
They left immediately.
The deposit facility had closed for normal business hours, but Lorenzo Vitale did not seem limited by normal business hours.
The manager opened the doors eleven minutes later.
Box 62 was registered under a false company name.
Its key slot matched the brass token.
The manager inserted a master key.
Lorenzo used the token.
The box clicked.
Beatrice suddenly could not breathe.
"Do you want me to open it?" Lorenzo asked.
She looked at him.
"No."
She pulled the box out herself.
Inside was a ledger.
A cassette tape.
Three envelopes.
And a necklace.
Beatrice picked it up.
A small silver locket.
Her mother's.
She remembered sleeping with it in her palm after Eleanor disappeared because her father had told her Eleanor left it behind deliberately.
Proof she did not care.
Now the same necklace had been locked in Sicily.
Her hands trembled.
"She was here."
Lorenzo opened the ledger.
Columns of money transfers filled the pages.
Names.
Companies.
Dates.
Matteo leaned closer.
"These are Alessandro's accounts."
Lorenzo's jaw tightened.
"And Charles's."
Beatrice saw her father's initials repeated beside transfers.
C.G.
Then another set.
E.G.
Her mother's.
She turned toward Lorenzo.
"Was she involved?"
"Maybe."
The thought hurt.
Had Eleanor been lying too?
Beatrice opened the first envelope.
It was addressed to her.
BEATRICE.
Her mother's handwriting.
She sat down.
The others moved away.
Her fingers struggled with the seal.
Inside were six handwritten pages.
My Bea,
If you are reading this, Charles has either failed to stop you from finding the truth, or he has finally become desperate enough to use you as he once used me.
Beatrice's vision blurred.
She continued.
You must understand one thing before anything else.
I did not leave you.
I was taken from you.
She covered her mouth.
The letter shook in her hands.
Lorenzo stood near the doorway, giving her distance while still watching.
Eleanor described discovering financial transfers between Charles and Alessandro Vitale.
At first she believed Charles was merely laundering money.
Then she discovered something worse.
Charles had been borrowing identities.
Women.
Employees.
Relatives.
He opened companies under their names, moved funds, then claimed they were mentally unstable or unreliable if they questioned him.
Eleanor confronted him.
Charles arranged for Dr. Rizzo to declare her paranoid.
She was committed.
But a nurse helped her escape.
That nurse was Mara.
Beatrice stopped.
Mara was not Eleanor's sister.
She had lied.
Beatrice looked up.
"Lorenzo."
He came closer.
"Mara isn't my aunt."
"What?"
"She's a nurse."
Matteo immediately reached for his phone.
Beatrice kept reading.
Mara helped me because she discovered Rizzo had done this before. If Mara ever tells you she is family, forgive her. She will only do it if she believes the truth would place you in danger.
Beatrice closed her eyes.
Even that deception had been anticipated.
She read on.
Charles is most dangerous when cornered.
He will tell you I was unstable.
He will tell you that you are unstable.
He may even create documents proving it.
Do not believe paper simply because it has a seal.
The guardianship petition.
Beatrice's stomach twisted.
Then she reached a paragraph that mentioned Lorenzo.
If the Vitale family is still powerful when you find this, do not assume they are all like Alessandro. His younger brother Lorenzo tried to stop him once. I saw it with my own eyes.
Beatrice looked toward Lorenzo.
He had gone still.
"You knew my mother?"
"No."
"She knew you."
"Apparently."
She handed him the page.
He read it.
Memory shifted across his face.
"What?" Beatrice asked.
"Nine years ago, I confronted Alessandro at a clinic."
"St. Augustine's?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I suspected he was hiding financial witnesses there."
"Did you see my mother?"
"I saw several patients being moved."
Beatrice's breath caught.
"Could she have been one?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you investigate?"
"I did."
"And?"
"My brother died two years later. The clinic records disappeared. Everyone I questioned denied it."
Beatrice looked at the ledger.
"My father helped bury it."
"Probably."
Matteo entered quickly.
"Mara is gone."
"What?"
"She left the estate twenty minutes ago."
Beatrice stood.
"Why?"
"Security footage shows her receiving a call, then walking out through the service gate."
Lorenzo took the second envelope.
It was addressed to Mara.
He opened it carefully.
One line.
IF CHARLES SENDS BEATRICE TO SICILY, THE HOUSE IS NO LONGER SAFE.
Lorenzo swore.
"Which house?"
Beatrice looked at the third envelope.
No name.
Inside was a property deed.
A small stone house outside Cefalù.
Owner:
Eleanor Gallagher.
Matteo looked at Lorenzo.
"That's where Mara went."
The drive took nearly an hour.
Night had fallen by the time they reached the house.
The front door stood open.
Lorenzo entered first.
Beatrice followed despite his warning.
The house smelled stale.
Unused.
A single lamp burned in the kitchen.
"Mara?"
No answer.
Beatrice noticed photographs covering one wall.
Her mother.
Mara.
Young Beatrice.
Pictures Charles had claimed were lost.
Then she saw one taken only four years earlier.
Eleanor stood near a harbor.
Alive.
Four years ago.
Beatrice grabbed the frame.
"She survived."
Lorenzo looked.
"Yes."
A noise came from below.
A basement door.
Lorenzo drew a pistol.
Beatrice froze.
"Stay here."
"No."
"Beatrice."
"My mother may be down there."
Lorenzo stared at her.
Then handed her to Matteo's protection and descended first.
The basement contained filing cabinets.
Boxes.
A desk.
No people.
On the desk was an answering machine.
Its red light blinked.
One message.
Beatrice pressed PLAY.
Static.
Then Mara's voice.
"Beatrice, if you're hearing this, they found me before I could explain. Your mother survived the clinic. She survived Charles. She even survived Alessandro's people."
Beatrice gripped the desk.
Mara continued.
"But she made one mistake."
A sound in the recording.
A door opening.
Mara's breathing changed.
"She trusted the wrong Gallagher."
The recording ended.
Beatrice stared at the machine.
"The wrong Gallagher?"
Lorenzo looked toward the filing cabinets.
Beatrice's family was small.
Her father.
Her mother.
Her.
And—
She stopped.
Her sister.
Older by six years.
Vanessa.
The sister Charles said had died in a car accident when Beatrice was fifteen.
Beatrice whispered the name.
"Vanessa."
Footsteps sounded upstairs.
Matteo shouted.
"Lorenzo!"
A door slammed.
They rushed up.
The kitchen was empty.
But someone had placed a fresh photograph on the table.
Beatrice picked it up.
Vanessa Gallagher stood beside Charles.
The photograph had been taken that morning.
May you like
And behind them was a Sicilian road sign.
They were already on the island.
