Chapter 3 - Four Fingers
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Dominic did not let the guests leave until nearly two in the morning.
Frank took names and phones and statements in the ballroom.
Dr. Harris took blood from the man in the library.
He also took blood from Dominic for comparison.
The stranger gave his sample without arguing.
That worried me more than resistance would have.
Innocent men argue.
Prepared men cooperate.
Celeste remained locked in her suite with a guard outside.
Her father left with three of Dominic's men following his car.
No one said the word arrest.
No one needed to.
I took Salvatore to his bedroom on the second floor.
His hands shook long after I tucked the blanket around him.
He would not release the chipped knight.
He kept turning it over in his fingers.
Grave, he whispered again.
I do not understand yet, I told him.
He closed his eyes in frustration.
A stroke steals words first and dignity second.
His mind was working faster than his mouth could follow.
I sat beside him until his breathing slowed.
Even in sleep he held that knight like a weapon.
Downstairs Dominic waited for me in his father's study.
The engagement photographs had already been removed from the desk.
In their place lay my medication log.
You kept this, he said.
I keep one for every patient, I answered.
It is habit from the emergency room.
Dates.
Times.
Doses.
Reactions.
He turned the pages slowly.
His finger stopped on an entry from four months earlier.
Here, he said.
First mention of blue drops.
I nodded.
Celeste told me a specialist in Boston recommended them.
She said they would help him sleep without heavy sedation.
What did you write that night, he asked.
I leaned over and read my own handwriting.
Patient alert at dinner.
Twenty minutes after drops, speech slurred.
Unable to recognize daughter-in-law photograph.
Balance poor.
Needed assistance to stand.
Dominic turned another page.
And another.
The pattern repeated with terrible consistency.
Alert before.
Confused after.
Alert the next morning.
Confused again after the evening drops.
Why did you not come to me sooner, he asked.
I almost laughed at the question.
I tried twice, I said.
Your office said you were traveling.
Celeste said she would discuss it with you herself.
His jaw tightened.
And I said nothing because I needed this job, I admitted.
My daughter Emma is in college.
My husband died three years ago and left medical bills, not money.
I told myself vitamins could not do that damage.
I was wrong to wait.
Dominic closed the log.
You are not fired, he said.
Celeste fired me in front of forty-two people, I reminded him.
Celeste does not hire or fire in this house anymore, he said.
You stay.
You stay because my father trusts you.
You stay because you wrote everything down when no one else did.
It was not an apology.
From Dominic Romano, it was close enough.
He offered me double pay for night hours until this ended.
I refused the double pay.
I accepted the job back on one condition.
No one gives Salvatore medicine except me or Dr. Harris, I said.
No one.
Not even you without logging it first.
He studied me for a long moment.
Done, he said.
That agreement changed something between us.
I was no longer just the nurse in his father's house.
I was a witness he needed alive and honest.
The next morning Salvatore woke clearer than he had in weeks.
Without the drops his eyes tracked the newspaper properly.
He ate breakfast without spilling.
He beat me at chess in nineteen moves.
Then he pointed at the log book on the tray.
Four, he said, and held up four fingers again.
Four months, I said.
He nodded.
Then he pointed at Dominic's photograph on the dresser.
Then he mimed drinking from a glass.
Then he held up four fingers again.
My stomach turned cold.
You are saying Dominic got the drops for four months too, I asked.
He nodded hard.
Not just you.
Both of you.
He tapped the photograph twice for emphasis.
When Dominic came in an hour later, I showed him what his father had done.
Dominic did not dismiss it.
He sat down across the chessboard from Salvatore.
Father, he said quietly.
Did Celeste put something in my wine every night she was here.
Salvatore nodded.
Did I sign things after drinking that wine, Dominic asked.
Salvatore's face crumpled.
He nodded again.
He reached for a pen with his shaking hand.
I steadied the paper the way I had at the dinner.
He wrote one shaky word beneath a trembling line.
PORTS.
Dominic stared at the word.
What ports, he asked.
Salvatore tried to write more.
His hand failed him.
The pen slipped and left a black slash across the page.
He struck the arm of his chair in frustration.
I placed my hand over his.
We will find it another way, I promised.
Dominic called Arthur Bell before noon.
Arthur arrived pale and carrying two heavy briefcases.
He had not slept either.
Dominic placed the paper with the word PORTS in front of him.
Explain this, Dominic said.
Arthur opened the first briefcase without a word.
Inside were copies of transfer authorizations.
Shipping routes.
Voting proxies.
Port access agreements in New Jersey and Staten Island.
Three documents bore Dominic's signature.
I watched his face as he read them.
I have never seen a powerful man look physically ill from paper.
I did not sign this, he said.
Arthur swallowed.
You did, Dominic.
You signed it here in this study three weeks ago.
Celeste was present.
I was present.
You seemed tired but coherent.
Dominic turned the page over.
I do not remember that night at all, he said.
Not the meeting.
Not the pen.
Not you being in this room.
Arthur looked at me, then back at Dominic.
There is another one, he said quietly.
It was signed last month.
It gives Celeste temporary authority if you are incapacitated.
And a third document gives her father consulting rights over port security.
Dominic stood so fast his chair hit the wall.
Enzo D'Amato gets access to my ports, he said.
That was never my intention.
Not awake.
Not sober.
Not sane.
Salvatore made a sharp sound from his wheelchair.
We all turned.
He was pointing at Arthur.
Then at the briefcase.
Then he held up four fingers again.
Arthur understood before we did.
Four documents, Arthur whispered.
There are four.
I only brought three copies.
The fourth is the original master agreement.
Where is it, Dominic demanded.
Arthur's hands began to shake.
Celeste asked me to keep it in my office safe until after the wedding, he said.
She said you wanted it as a surprise for her father.
Dominic picked up his phone.
Frank answered on the first ring.
Take Arthur to his office, Dominic ordered.
If that document is gone, do not come back without knowing who took it.
Arthur stood on unsteady legs.
Dominic, there is one more thing you need to know, he said.
The signature on the fourth document is not only yours.
Salvatore's name is also on it.
Salvatore shook his head violently.
No, he forced out.
No sign.
Dominic looked at his father, then at the attorney.
If my father did not sign it, Dominic said, someone forged a sick man's name to steal his company.
At that exact moment Frank called back from the car.
His voice on speaker filled the study.
Boss, he said.
We have a problem.
Arthur's office was broken into last night during the dinner.
The safe is empty.
And the security camera shows someone entering with Arthur's own code at nine forty, while forty-two guests were watching Salvatore write in the guestbook.
Salvatore grabbed my sleeve and pulled me down to his level.
His eyes were wet and furious and completely clear.
He pointed toward the library where the stranger claiming to be Adrian was still under guard.
May you like
Then he whispered the clearest sentence he had managed in six months.
He took it.
