Chapter 12 - THE MAID WHO REFUSED TO BE BOUGHT|
"That isn't my signature."
I stared at the sworn statement on Evelyn Mercer's desk.
My name appeared at the bottom in neat, slanted handwriting.
Claire Bennett.
Witness.
Above it were several paragraphs claiming that Gianna Moretti had voluntarily agreed to vacate her property.
I had never seen the document.
I had never spoken to a demolition contractor.
And I would never have helped anyone force Gianna out of her home.
Evelyn examined the page.
"Claire, did you sign anything related to Gianna's property?"
"No."
"Did you ever authorize someone to sign on your behalf?"
"Absolutely not."
She nodded.
"Then we'll challenge this."
Luca stood beside the window.
His face was dark with anger.
"Vanessa is trying to make Claire look responsible for everything."
Evelyn turned toward him.
"That possibility is why we need independent evidence."
"And Claire should have her own lawyer."
Luca looked at me.
"I'll pay for one."
I hesitated.
I was grateful.
But I didn't want my defense controlled by a man whose family was at the center of the investigation.
Evelyn seemed to understand.
"Claire can select independent counsel," she said.
"If she wants financial assistance, the arrangement can be documented without giving Luca control over her legal decisions."
I looked at her gratefully.
"Thank you."
That afternoon, my attorney and I began gathering evidence.
The statement claimed I'd witnessed Gianna sign papers on a Wednesday afternoon three weeks earlier.
But I hadn't been in Chicago that day.
I'd taken a bus to Milwaukee to accompany my mother to a medical appointment.
I still had the bus tickets.
I still had the photograph my mother took of us eating lunch outside the hospital.
And my supervisor had approved my leave in writing.
When my attorney saw the records, she smiled.
"This is useful."
"For the first time all week, I felt as though I might actually be able to defend myself."
Then Marco found something else.
The payroll office had received a request for copies of several employees' identification forms.
The request came from Vanessa's wedding coordinator, Celia Finch.
Her explanation had been that the wedding insurance company required staff verification.
But the scanned documents included my signature.
The very signature someone had copied onto the false witness statement.
Evelyn immediately preserved the request and its supporting records.
By evening, the investigator working with the family had obtained an interview with Celia.
She arrived at a lawyer's office looking exhausted.
Her expensive handbag was clutched tightly against her chest.
When I entered with my attorney, she couldn't meet my eyes.
"Claire," she whispered.
I sat opposite her.
"Why did you put that bracelet in my locker?"
She began crying.
"I didn't know Vanessa was going to accuse you in front of everyone."
I stared at her.
"That isn't an answer."
Celia wiped her face.
"She told me she needed the bracelet moved."
"She said you were trying to blackmail her."
"She said you were dangerous."
I felt anger rise in my chest.
"You knew I worked in that house."
"You saw me serving meals and cleaning rooms."
"Did I look dangerous to you?"
Celia shook her head.
"No."
"Then why did you do it?"
She looked down.
"Because she paid me."
Her answer was so simple that it hurt.
Money.
That was all it had taken.
She had been willing to destroy my reputation because a wealthy woman offered her a payment.
Celia admitted that Vanessa had also asked her to arrange custom stationery using Luca's initials.
She had helped gather copies of staff records.
And she had coordinated meetings with a notary who worked on Bellini property transactions.
Her attorney advised her not to speculate about documents she hadn't personally seen.
But the things she acknowledged were enough to give investigators several new leads.
Then I asked one final question.
"Did Vanessa tell you to burn Gianna's house?"
Celia looked horrified.
"No."
"I swear I knew nothing about the fire."
Her attorney asked her to stop answering questions until they had reviewed all the relevant information.
I believed she was frightened.
Whether she was telling the entire truth was something investigators would have to determine.
That evening, I returned to the mansion.
Gianna was sitting in the library, looking at the photograph Luca had rescued from her house.
Her eyes were red from crying.
I sat beside her.
"Mrs. Gianna, how are you feeling?"
She smiled sadly.
"Like an old woman who has lived too long."
My heart tightened.
"Please don't say that."
She touched my hand.
"Claire, I'm tired."
"I never wanted all this trouble."
"I only wanted to see Luca get married and spend my remaining years in my little house."
I leaned closer.
"Then that's what we're fighting for."
She looked at me.
"You've lost so much sleep because of me."
"You could have walked away."
I shook my head.
"Someone has to stand beside people when they're being treated unfairly."
Gianna studied me.
Then she reached into her handbag.
She removed a little silver brooch shaped like a bird.
Its wings were decorated with tiny blue stones.
"My mother gave me this when I was young."
"I'd like you to have it."
I stared at the brooch.
"Mrs. Gianna, I can't take that."
"You can."
"It's not expensive."
"But it means something."
She placed it in my palm.
"Sometimes family isn't the people who share your blood."
"Sometimes it's the people who choose not to leave."
I began crying.
We embraced for a long moment.
Then the library doors opened.
Luca stood in the doorway.
He looked at the brooch in my hand.
"My grandmother's blue bird."
Gianna smiled.
"I gave it to Claire."
Luca nodded.
"Then it's exactly where it belongs."
Later that night, Vanessa sent me a private message.
Claire, you're making a terrible mistake.
I can give you two hundred fifty thousand dollars to withdraw your statement and disappear.
My heart pounded as I read it.
Two hundred fifty thousand dollars.
More money than I could save in years.
Enough to buy a small home for my mother.
Enough to change my life.
Then another message appeared.
Think carefully.
People like you don't get opportunities like this twice.
I sat staring at the screen.
Then I forwarded both messages to my attorney.
I didn't respond to Vanessa.
Not because the money meant nothing.
It meant more than she could possibly understand.
But I'd seen what happened when people sold their silence.
Antonio Moretti had spent years trying to repair the consequences.
Nora Hayes had lived in fear.
And Gianna had nearly lost everything.
The following morning, Evelyn confirmed that the court would hear our emergency request to stop the eviction and demolition.
Vanessa's attorneys were also expected to appear.
The hearing was scheduled for nine o'clock.
When Gianna learned about it, she asked Claire to bring her blue dress.
I helped her put it on.
Then I carefully pinned the little blue bird brooch's empty place in my memory, knowing its silver wings were now resting on my own collar.
Gianna stood before the mirror.
She looked small.
Old.
Tired.
But she held her head high.
"Do I look presentable, dear?"
I smiled through my tears.
"You look beautiful."
Gianna adjusted the worn sleeves.
May you like
"Good."
"Because tomorrow, that woman is finally going to hear what I have to say."
