Chapter 4 - The Camera That Went Dark
I didn't let Adrian Vale inside.
Not immediately.
He stood beneath the entrance canopy while six guards surrounded him.
Fifty-eight.
Gray hair.
Expensive coat.
Empty hands.
He looked like a man arriving for dinner.
I watched through security cameras.
"He came alone," Dominic said.
"Nobody comes alone."
Clara stood behind us.
"Do you know him?"
"No."
"Elena did."
Apparently.
Matteo had been taken to the secure interior room with two guards.
He hadn't wanted Clara to leave.
That told me something.
I still didn't know what.
Vale looked directly into the entrance camera.
Then smiled.
"Vincent," he said.
He knew I could hear him.
"You've spent fourteen months looking for the wrong enemy."
I pressed the intercom.
"You have thirty seconds."
"I treated your son in Boston."
I looked at Dominic.
He was already checking.
Vale continued.
"Not officially."
"Twenty-five seconds."
"Elena came to me after she found irregularities in Matteo's medical records."
"Why wasn't your name in them?"
"Because someone removed it."
"Who?"
Vale looked toward the camera.
"The same person who arranged your wife's death."
My hand tightened.
Clara whispered, "Vincent."
I ignored her.
"Bring him in."
We put Vale in the library.
No phone.
No bag.
No coat.
Two guards outside.
Dominic beside me.
Clara stayed because Vale recognized her immediately.
"Ms. Hayes."
She stiffened.
"You know me?"
"I know your file."
"What file?"
Vale looked at me.
"Her missing two years."
Clara's face changed.
I remembered the résumé.
"What happened during those two years?"
She said nothing.
Vale answered.
"She was a patient."
Clara turned on him.
"That's a lie."
"Is it?"
"I worked."
"Until March."
Her breathing changed.
"Then you disappeared."
"I didn't disappear."
Vale's expression softened.
"You don't remember."
That was when I understood Clara's fear.
Not fear of Vale.
Fear that some part of her believed him.
Vale explained that the Boston clinic had been part of a private network of rehabilitation centers funded through shell companies.
Patients.
Employees.
Medical trials.
Data.
Money.
Elena had stumbled onto financial records while investigating Matteo's missing bloodwork.
Clara had worked at one affiliated facility.
Then she'd vanished for nearly two years.
"I was caring for my mother," Clara said.
Vale looked sad.
"Your mother died six months before your employment gap."
Silence.
Clara stared at him.
"No."
Vale slid a folded document across the table.
Dominic checked it first.
Death certificate.
Clara didn't touch it.
"My mother called me during that time."
"Did she?"
Vale asked gently.
Clara stood abruptly.
"Enough."
She left.
I followed.
She reached the hallway before stopping.
"I remember her."
"I'm sure you do."
"No."
She turned.
"I remember making soup. I remember changing her sheets. I remember sitting beside her."
Her eyes were wet.
"How can I remember something that didn't happen?"
I had no answer.
Then Clara looked toward the ceiling.
"Your cameras."
"What?"
"How far back do the archives go?"
"Depends."
"Can we check whether I've ever been here before?"
That question hit me.
Elena's photograph.
Clara beside her.
Three weeks before the bombing.
Clara claimed she had never met Elena.
What if both things were true?
We searched.
Old archives.
Thirteen months.
Fourteen.
Fifteen.
Most routine recordings had been overwritten.
But flagged security footage remained.
Dominic found one.
Date: twenty-two days before Elena died.
Front gate.
A woman arrived.
Dark hair.
Navy coat.
Clara.
She watched herself on the screen.
"No."
The recording showed Elena coming outside.
The women spoke.
No audio.
Then Elena embraced Clara.
Clara stumbled backward as though confused.
Elena gave her an envelope.
Clara left.
Present-day Clara stared at the screen.
"I don't remember any of that."
I believed her now.
That was worse.
Then the old footage changed.
A black sedan followed Clara's vehicle away from the estate.
Dominic enlarged the plate.
Registered to a security contractor.
One we'd employed.
"Who approved them?" I asked.
Dominic's face tightened.
"I did."
The room went silent.
"Vincent—"
"Find the driver."
He searched archived personnel records.
Photographs appeared.
Matteo entered behind us with his guard.
I hadn't heard him.
He saw the screen.
Then screamed.
Not whispered.
Screamed.
"Him!"
We all turned.
Matteo pointed at one photograph.
His entire body shook.
"That man!"
I ran to him.
"Matteo?"
"Car."
"The bombing?"
He nodded desperately.
"He was there."
Dominic stared at the employee photograph.
I looked at the name.
Samuel Keene.
Former security technician.
Termination date:
The day after Elena died.
"Why was he terminated?" I asked.
Dominic looked sick.
"I didn't fire him."
Someone had used Dominic's authorization.
Then every surveillance monitor in the room went black.
All of them.
One second later, emergency lights came on.
My phone displayed a single message.
NO MORE CAMERAS.
Then we heard a door open somewhere upstairs.
May you like
And Clara whispered:
"Matteo's room."
