Chapter 3 - The Man Who Came Looking
Gabriel pulled the steel handle.
Locked.
“Daniel.”
No answer.
He hit the door once.
“Daniel!”
Elena leaned against the brick wall.
“He locked us in.”
Gabriel stepped back.
“No.”
“You heard it.”
“I heard the lock.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Daniel could have trapped me years ago if he wanted me dead.”
Elena stared.
“That is an unsettling standard for friendship.”
Gabriel looked around the hidden room.
The ventilation grate above the safe was too narrow.
No second exit.
Then he noticed the cassette.
He picked it up.
A small portable recorder sat beneath the ledger.
Gabriel inserted the tape.
Static.
Then his father’s voice.
Gabriel froze.
“If this recording is being heard, Victor probably found out.”
Thomas sounded tired.
Older than Gabriel remembered.
“Daniel, if you're there, I'm sorry.”
Gabriel looked toward the locked door.
Thomas continued.
“You were a boy when I asked you to carry something no boy should have carried.”
Elena whispered, “He knew Daniel.”
The tape continued.
“Your mother Evelyn was right to leave. Victor will never forgive her for what she took.”
Gabriel and Elena looked at each other.
Evelyn.
Daniel’s mother.
Thomas’s letter had said find Evelyn.
“Victor believes Room 317 contains money,” Thomas continued. “Let him believe that. What it contains is proof.”
The recording distorted.
Gabriel adjusted the machine.
Then Thomas said:
“The account belongs to the families.”
Elena leaned closer.
“What account?”
Static swallowed several seconds.
Then:
“Gabriel must never inherit Victor’s war. If I die, protect him from it.”
The recording ended.
Gabriel stared at the machine.
His father had known Daniel.
Had trusted him enough to ask him for help.
Yet the note said not to trust Daniel.
Contradiction.
Unless—
“Elena.”
“Yes?”
“Give me the photograph.”
She did.
Gabriel studied the writing.
TRUST THE ACCOUNTANT, NOT DANIEL.
He rubbed his thumb over the ink.
Then looked at his notebook.
Different handwriting.
“This wasn't written by my father.”
Elena understood immediately.
“Someone added it.”
Footsteps sounded outside.
Gabriel silenced her with a gesture.
Victor’s voice came through the office wall.
“You don't need to hide from me, Gabriel.”
Gabriel searched the safe.
His fingers found a recessed switch.
He pressed it.
A panel opened beside the safe.
A narrow maintenance hatch.
Elena almost laughed.
“Your father enjoyed secret doors.”
“He was an irritating man.”
“You say that affectionately.”
“I’m trying not to.”
Gabriel crawled through first.
The passage emerged behind the bar’s wine cellar.
He helped Elena through.
She winced.
“You all right?”
“No.”
“Useful honesty.”
“I’m an accountant.”
“Not exactly famous for it.”
She glared at him.
For the first time since she arrived, she looked less afraid.
Gabriel found that encouraging.
They reached the cellar stairs.
Daniel was waiting.
Gabriel seized his jacket and pushed him against the wall.
Elena whispered, “Gabriel.”
He stopped.
Daniel didn't resist.
“Did you lock us in?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Victor entered the office.”
“You could have warned me.”
“He was three feet away.”
Gabriel released him.
“Start talking.”
Daniel looked toward Elena.
“My mother is Evelyn Mercer.”
“Victor’s sister.”
“Yes.”
“She’s alive?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
Gabriel stared.
“She disappeared nine years ago.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor found out she had copies of Thomas’s records.”
Elena held up the leather notebook.
“Did she send me this key?”
Daniel looked at it.
“I think so.”
“How would she know me?”
“I don't know.”
A glass shattered upstairs.
Victor was becoming impatient.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“He didn't come alone.”
“How many?”
“Six.”
Gabriel smiled faintly.
“What?”
Daniel knew that smile.
“You're thinking about throwing him out.”
“It’s my bar.”
“He has six men.”
“I have a fire code occupancy limit.”
Elena stared at him.
“Is this how you handle danger?”
“Usually.”
“No wonder people are afraid of you.”
Gabriel’s smile disappeared.
“People being afraid is cheaper than fighting them.”
That was the truth of Gabriel Vale.
He had never built his influence by being the most violent man in a room.
He had built it by making everyone believe violence would be unnecessary because he had already anticipated their next move.
Tonight, unfortunately, he had anticipated nothing.
They entered the bar.
Victor Rosetti stood beside the counter.
Sixty-three.
Silver hair.
Perfect dark suit.
No visible weapon.
He looked like a man arriving for a charity dinner.
“Gabriel.”
“Victor.”
Victor glanced at Elena.
“There she is.”
Elena stiffened.
Gabriel stepped slightly between them.
Victor noticed.
“That is an expensive decision.”
“Then send me an invoice.”
Victor smiled.
“You always had Thomas’s humor.”
“Don't use his name.”
“Why? I knew him longer than you did.”
Daniel entered.
Victor’s smile faded.
“Nephew.”
“Uncle.”
Elena whispered to Gabriel, “Keep him talking.”
Victor heard.
“Elena Marin. Seven years working ten feet from my office, and suddenly you discover morality.”
Elena met his gaze.
“I discovered arithmetic.”
Victor chuckled.
“Always liked that about you.”
“You falsified accounts.”
“Careful.”
“You paid people to hide transfers.”
“Accounting disagreements are rarely worth dying over.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.
Victor noticed.
“That wasn't a threat.”
“Sounded polished enough to be one.”
Victor sighed.
“Gabriel, this woman stole confidential records. Return them, and tonight becomes an unfortunate misunderstanding.”
“No.”
Victor blinked.
Gabriel said it again.
“No.”
“You haven't even asked what I’m offering.”
“I don't sell injured women back to employers.”
Elena looked at him.
Victor’s expression changed.
A fraction.
Enough.
“You think you're protecting her?”
“Yes.”
“From me?”
“If necessary.”
Victor approached the bar.
Gabriel remained still.
Victor lowered his voice.
“Ask Elena why she went into my private archive.”
Gabriel glanced at her.
She said nothing.
“Ask what she was searching for before she supposedly discovered my terrible secrets.”
Elena’s face tightened.
Victor smiled.
“She didn't stumble onto Thomas’s name.”
Gabriel looked at Elena.
“She was looking for it.”
Silence.
Victor had found the fracture.
He pressed.
“Elena came to work for me because of your father.”
Gabriel turned fully toward her.
“Is that true?”
Elena swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I couldn't tell you.”
“Try.”
“My father knew Thomas.”
“How?”
“He worked at the port.”
Victor interrupted.
“Her father did considerably more than work at the port.”
Elena’s eyes flashed.
“Shut up.”
Victor smiled.
“There she is.”
Gabriel ignored him.
“Elena.”
She looked at Gabriel.
“My father was blamed for the fire that killed yours.”
Gabriel stopped.
The official report had named an electrical contractor.
Samuel Marin.
Gabriel remembered.
He looked at her.
“Samuel Marin was your father?”
“Yes.”
“He disappeared.”
“No.”
Elena’s voice cracked for the first time.
“He died.”
Victor casually adjusted his cuff.
“Tragic.”
Elena moved toward him.
Gabriel caught her gently.
“Don't.”
“He knows.”
“Then we'll make him talk.”
Victor’s smile vanished.
Elena looked at Gabriel.
“My father left me one thing before he died.”
“What?”
“A letter saying Thomas Vale saved his life.”
Gabriel frowned.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“I know.”
“He was blamed for killing him.”
“I know.”
Victor turned toward the door.
“This family reunion is touching.”
Gabriel said, “You're not leaving.”
Victor stopped.
Gabriel held up the notebook.
“You want this?”
“Yes.”
“Then answer one question.”
Victor looked back.
“Who killed my father?”
Daniel went completely still.
Victor studied Gabriel for several seconds.
Then he smiled.
“Nobody.”
Gabriel’s expression hardened.
Victor continued.
“Thomas Vale didn't die in that fire.”
The room seemed to shrink.
Gabriel heard Elena inhale.
Daniel whispered, “That's a lie.”
Victor looked at him.
“Is it?”
Gabriel stepped forward.
“Where is he?”
Victor said nothing.
“Where is my father?”
Victor’s phone rang.
He checked the screen.
For the first time that night, genuine surprise crossed his face.
He answered.
Listened.
Then looked directly at Gabriel.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
Victor slowly held out the phone.
“It’s for you.”
Gabriel did not take it.
Victor activated speaker.
A man’s voice came through.
Older.
Weak.
But unmistakable.
“Gabriel?”
Gabriel stopped breathing.
He had heard that voice on the cassette minutes earlier.
The same voice that had once read him bedtime stories.
The same voice he had buried twelve years ago.
May you like
“Son,” Thomas Vale whispered. “Don't give Victor the notebook.”
Then the line went dead.
