Chapter 3 - The Voice on the Phone
Victor smiled when he entered.
“Morning.”
Ronaldo watched the folder in his hand.
Calumet.
Victor placed it on the desk.
“Berth allocations. You wanted them yesterday.”
“I did.”
Ronaldo opened the folder.
The figures were neat.
Too neat.
Elsa had taught him something without ever knowing it.
Perfect numbers could lie more convincingly than bad ones.
Victor sat.
“You hear anything from the girl?”
Ronaldo looked up.
“The girl?”
“Elsa.”
“No.”
Victor nodded sympathetically.
“Shame.”
Ronaldo closed the folder.
“You liked her?”
“She was capable.”
“You insulted her.”
Victor smiled.
“I tested her.”
“She passed.”
“She did.”
Ronaldo leaned back.
“Who knew her schedule?”
Victor's smile weakened.
“Probably everyone upstairs.”
“Specific names.”
Victor gave four.
None surprised Ronaldo.
Then he added a fifth.
Beverly Vance.
Ronaldo said nothing.
Victor left twelve minutes later.
Ronaldo immediately called Sal.
“Follow him.”
Sal didn't ask why.
For three days, Victor did nothing unusual.
Home.
Office.
Calumet yard.
Restaurant.
Home.
Then, on the fourth night, he drove south instead of north.
Sal followed from six cars back.
Victor entered a storage facility near the river.
He stayed nineteen minutes.
After he left, Sal waited.
Then he entered.
Unit 314 had been left unlocked.
Inside was a desk.
A chair.
And a photograph of Elsa.
Not one photograph.
Forty-three.
Elsa entering work.
Elsa buying groceries.
Elsa leaving a pharmacy.
Elsa standing at her apartment window.
Someone had been documenting her life for months.
Sal called Ronaldo.
“Come here.”
Ronaldo arrived twenty-eight minutes later.
He looked at every photograph.
No reaction.
Then he reached the last one.
Elsa was entering the parking garage on the night she disappeared.
The timestamp was 6:41.
Behind her stood a man.
His face was hidden.
But his left hand was visible.
He wore a ring.
Ronaldo knew that ring.
Sal did too.
Neither spoke.
The ring belonged to someone who had been sitting at Ronaldo's table for more than twenty years.
Someone who knew every schedule.
Every camera.
Every door.
Ronaldo turned the photograph over.
Three words had been written there.
SHE FOUND IT.
“What did she find?” Sal asked.
Ronaldo looked around the unit.
A metal cabinet stood against the wall.
Locked.
Sal forced it open.
Inside were copies of shipping records.
Thousands of pages.
Some dated back eleven years.
Ronaldo removed one.
Then another.
Money had been disappearing in amounts small enough not to attract attention.
Twenty thousand.
Thirty-eight thousand.
Forty-one thousand.
Over years, it became millions.
Elsa had found the pattern.
“She didn't leave because of me,” Ronaldo said.
Sal looked at him.
“No.”
Ronaldo's jaw tightened.
“She left because of this.”
Sal's phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
Then looked at Ronaldo.
“What?”
“They found Elsa's laptop.”
“Where?”
“Calumet.”
Ronaldo went still.
“Where at Calumet?”
Sal swallowed.
“Victor's office.”
They drove there immediately.
The laptop was hidden beneath a false panel.
Its battery was dead.
Sal connected it.
Password required.
Ronaldo typed nothing.
He stared at the screen.
Then remembered something Elsa had said during her interview.
Her mother used to send her to the market with a list.
By nine, she could carry totals in her head.
Ronaldo entered:
Wrong.
He tried the time she arrived every morning.
Wrong.
Then he remembered the coffee.
Twelve mornings.
On the twelfth, he had finally sat with her.
The laptop unlocked.
There was one folder.
R.
Inside were scanned ledgers.
Audio recordings.
Photographs.
And a video.
Ronaldo opened it.
Elsa appeared on screen.
She was sitting in her apartment.
She looked directly into the camera.
“If you're watching this, Ronaldo, then something happened before I could tell you myself.”
Ronaldo stopped breathing.
Elsa continued.
“I found someone stealing from you.”
She looked frightened.
“But the money isn't why I'm recording this.”
A noise came from somewhere inside Elsa's apartment.
On the video, Elsa turned.
Her face drained of color.
She whispered one name.
Then the recording abruptly ended.
Ronaldo replayed the final second.
Elsa's lips moved clearly.
Sal leaned closer.
May you like
They both recognized the name.
“Salvatore.”
