Chapter 11 - THE SECRET BURIED WITH ANTONIO MORETTI
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For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Luca looked at his mother.
“Dad's grave?”
Eleanor nodded.
I repeated the question in sign language to make certain I understood.
The second ledger is at Antonio's grave?
She shook her head.
Then signed more carefully.
Not buried with him. Hidden where we said goodbye.
Luca frowned.
“The cemetery?”
She nodded.
He stood.
“We're going.”
Detective Morales raised her hand.
“Not without a plan.”
Luca turned toward her.
“Detective, my father may have left evidence of the people who killed him.”
“And if he did, we need to recover it in a way that will hold up in court.”
She looked at Eleanor.
“Can you tell us exactly where the material is hidden?”
Eleanor thought for a moment.
Then signed:
Angel.
I looked at Luca.
“There's an angel at the cemetery?”
His expression changed.
“Yes. A marble angel beside my father's mausoleum.”
Eleanor nodded.
Under the broken wing.
Morales called her team.
Within an hour, investigators obtained permission to inspect the family mausoleum with Luca's cooperation.
I didn't expect to go.
I had already been awake for nearly thirty hours.
My father and sister were safe.
The police had my messages.
I had given my statement.
There was no reason for me to remain involved.
But Eleanor reached for my hand.
Please come.
I hesitated.
Luca immediately said, “You don't have to.”
I looked at the elderly woman who had trusted me when nobody else would listen.
Then I nodded.
“I'll come.”
The cemetery was quiet when we arrived.
Gray clouds covered the Chicago sky.
Cold wind moved through the trees.
Antonio Moretti's mausoleum stood at the end of a narrow stone walkway.
Beside it was a marble angel.
One wing was chipped near the base.
Eleanor looked at it and began crying.
Luca stepped beside her wheelchair.
“Mom?”
She signed:
Your father loved this place.
Luca nodded.
“I remember.”
“He said the dead deserve peace,” I translated.
Eleanor looked toward the mausoleum.
Then continued.
But the living deserve truth.
I swallowed.
Investigators examined the damaged wing.
At first, they found nothing.
Then one technician noticed a narrow compartment concealed beneath a removable stone panel.
Inside was a sealed metal case.
Luca stopped breathing.
The technician photographed the compartment before removing the case.
Morales opened it after documenting the seals.
Inside were several old storage drives, a packet of signed statements, and a thick ledger wrapped in waterproof material.
On the first page, Antonio Moretti had written:
These records must be delivered to independent investigators if anything happens to me.
Luca's eyes closed.
His father had known he was in danger.
The investigators took the materials into evidence.
Hours later, at the police station, Morales allowed us to see copies of selected records relevant to Eleanor's allegations.
The ledger contained a detailed history of money diverted from the family trust.
There were unauthorized property transfers.
Payments to shell companies.
Names of business partners.
And payments made shortly before the warehouse fire that killed Antonio.
One company appeared repeatedly.
Bellini Development Group.
But the most shocking document was a signed statement from a former employee.
The employee claimed Richard Bellini had arranged for equipment inside Antonio's warehouse to be deliberately damaged.
Two days before the fire.
Luca stared at the paper.
“My father knew.”
Morales nodded.
“It appears he suspected Bellini was preparing something dangerous. The statement alone doesn't prove who caused the fire, but it gives us a reason to reopen that investigation.”
Luca rubbed his face.
For the first time, he looked less like a powerful man and more like a son who had just learned his father might have been murdered.
I gently touched Eleanor's shoulder.
She was watching him with tears in her eyes.
Then Luca looked at his mother.
“You knew about this?”
She nodded.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Her fingers moved slowly.
I was afraid you would kill him.
Luca went still.
Eleanor continued.
I wanted justice. Not another grave.
The words seemed to strike him physically.
He sat down.
Then covered his face.
For a long time, nobody spoke.
Finally, he whispered, “I'm sorry, Mom.”
She reached for him.
He held her hand.
And I saw a man who had spent years building walls around himself finally allow one of them to fall.
But the moment didn't last.
Morales's phone rang.
She answered.
Then her face changed.
“What do you mean, he's gone?”
Luca stood immediately.
“Who?”
Morales ended the call.
“Richard Bellini.”
“Wasn't he being questioned?”
“He was interviewed and released while investigators pursued warrants. His attorney brought him in voluntarily.”
“Where is he now?”
“We don't know. His vehicle was found abandoned near the state line.”
Then her phone rang again.
She listened.
And looked directly at me.
“Claire, I need you to tell me something.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“Did your mother ever mention a woman named Evelyn Bellini?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
Morales glanced toward Luca.
“Evelyn was Richard's first wife. Vanessa's mother.”
Luca frowned.
“She died when Vanessa was a teenager.”
Morales nodded.
“That's the official account.”
My skin went cold.
“Why are you asking?”
“Because one of the documents recovered from Antonio's case contains a signed statement from Evelyn Bellini.”
May you like
She paused.
“And the witness who signed it claims Evelyn is still alive.”
