Chapter 10 - THE LIE BENEATH THE GRAVESTONE|
For several seconds after Anthony DeLuca's recording ended, nobody spoke.
The wind moved through the cemetery.
Somewhere beyond the iron gates, a car passed along the road.
But Matteo stood motionless beside his father's grave.
His face had lost all color.
"If Robert Hale tells you I died at the warehouse, don't believe him."
Those words had changed everything.
For thirty years, Matteo believed his father had been murdered inside an abandoned warehouse.
The newspapers had reported it.
The police had investigated it.
The family had buried him beneath an enormous marble monument.
And now his own voice was telling us that the official story might be false.
Matteo looked at Detective Whitmore.
"Play it again."
She hesitated.
"Mr. DeLuca, we should preserve the recording."
"Please."
Something in his voice made her soften.
She replayed the final section.
Anthony's voice sounded tired.
Frightened.
But unmistakably clear.
"The person who controls the trust documents."
A pause.
"If Robert Hale tells you I died at the warehouse, don't believe him."
Matteo lowered his head.
Gabriel stood beside him.
Neither brother spoke.
I watched them quietly.
Two sons.
One father.
Thirty years of lies.
Finally, Matteo turned toward the detective.
"Was my father's body identified?"
She frowned.
"I'll need to review the original case file."
"Who identified him?"
"I don't know yet."
Matteo looked toward the grave.
"Robert handled the funeral arrangements."
Gabriel's expression changed.
"Isabella never saw the body."
Matteo turned sharply.
"What?"
Gabriel swallowed.
"She told me the casket was closed."
Matteo stared at him.
"Because of the injuries."
"That's what Robert said."
A terrible silence followed.
I felt cold.
"Are you saying Anthony might not have died that night?"
Detective Whitmore raised a hand.
"We don't have enough evidence to conclude that."
Matteo looked at her.
"But it's possible."
She nodded cautiously.
"Some details warrant investigation."
Gabriel stepped closer to the grave.
He placed his hand against the marble.
"Where are you, Father?"
His voice broke.
I looked away.
Then the detective's phone rang.
She answered.
"Whitmore."
She listened.
Her expression changed.
"Are you certain?"
A pause.
"Send it to me."
She ended the call.
Matteo turned.
"What happened?"
"Robert Hale has requested another interview."
"Why?"
"He says he withheld information."
Matteo laughed bitterly.
"Of course he did."
The detective continued.
"He claims Anthony survived the warehouse attack."
Nobody moved.
Matteo stared at her.
"What?"
"He says your father was taken to a private medical facility."
Gabriel stepped forward.
"Where?"
"That's what we're trying to establish."
Matteo looked toward the grave again.
For a moment, I thought he might collapse.
Then he straightened.
"Take me to Robert."
Detective Whitmore nodded.
"We'll arrange an interview."
Matteo turned toward Gabriel.
"Come with me."
Gabriel hesitated.
"Are you sure?"
Matteo looked at him.
"You're my brother."
The words seemed to surprise them both.
Then Matteo added quietly, "Whatever happened, we face it together."
Gabriel's eyes filled.
He nodded.
"Together."
I followed them toward the cars.
Before leaving, I glanced back at the stone lion.
The morning light touched its weathered face.
I thought about Isabella hiding evidence beneath her husband's grave.
Had she known he survived?
Had she spent years searching?
Or had Robert convinced her that the man she loved was gone?
The questions followed me all the way to the police station.
Robert Hale sat inside an interview room.
He looked twenty years older than he had the previous evening.
His suit was wrinkled.
His eyes were red.
And when Matteo entered, Robert lowered his head.
"Matteo."
Matteo didn't sit.
"Where is my father?"
Robert closed his eyes.
"I don't know."
Matteo stepped forward.
"Wrong answer."
Detective Whitmore spoke firmly.
"Mr. DeLuca."
He stopped.
Robert looked up.
"I swear I don't know where he is now."
Matteo stared.
"Now?"
Robert nodded.
"He survived the shooting."
Gabriel gripped the back of a chair.
"How?"
"Dominic warned him at the last moment."
Matteo's expression changed.
"Our uncle?"
Robert nodded.
"He realized Victor intended to kill Anthony."
"But he opened the door," Gabriel said.
"Yes."
Robert swallowed.
"He took Victor's money, but when he understood what was about to happen, he tried to stop it."
Matteo's voice was cold.
"Too late."
Robert nodded.
"Yes."
He looked toward the table.
"Anthony was shot twice."
I felt sick.
"Was he conscious?"
"Barely."
Robert continued.
"Dominic and I got him out through a loading entrance."
"Then what?" Matteo demanded.
"We took him to a private clinic."
"Where?"
"Outside Chicago."
"Name."
Robert hesitated.
"St. Catherine's Medical Center."
Detective Whitmore made a note.
Matteo leaned forward.
"And?"
Robert's voice trembled.
"Victor believed Anthony was dead."
"Why didn't you tell the police?"
"Because Anthony begged us not to."
Matteo stared.
"Why?"
Robert wiped his eyes.
"Victor had threatened Isabella and both boys."
Gabriel looked down.
Robert continued.
"Anthony believed disappearing was the only way to keep his family alive."
Matteo shook his head.
"No."
His voice broke.
"He left us."
Robert looked at him.
"He believed he was protecting you."
Matteo slammed his palm against the table.
"By letting me bury an empty coffin?"
Detective Whitmore stepped closer.
"Mr. DeLuca."
He moved away.
His breathing was heavy.
I wanted to say something.
Anything.
But there were no words that could make thirty years of grief disappear.
Robert continued.
"Anthony planned to return after Victor was arrested."
Matteo turned.
"Then why didn't he?"
Robert's expression crumpled.
"Because Victor found the clinic."
The room went silent.
"What happened?" Gabriel asked.
Robert swallowed.
"Anthony disappeared."
Matteo stared.
"Disappeared?"
"Yes."
"Was he killed?"
"I don't know."
Robert looked at both brothers.
"I searched for years."
"Did Isabella know?" Matteo asked.
Robert nodded slowly.
"At first."
Matteo's face changed.
"At first?"
"She knew he survived the shooting."
"Then why did she tell me he died?"
"Because Anthony asked her to."
Matteo looked devastated.
Robert continued.
"After he disappeared from the clinic, she never received another message."
Gabriel sat down.
Matteo stared at the wall.
I watched his expression shift from anger to disbelief.
Then to something much worse.
Hope.
Hope was dangerous.
Especially when it arrived after thirty years.
Matteo looked at Robert.
"Is there any evidence he survived beyond the clinic?"
Robert nodded.
"One letter."
"When?"
"2018."
Matteo stopped breathing.
Eight years earlier.
Anthony would have been alive.
Robert reached toward the detective.
"I gave the original to your officers."
"What did it say?" Matteo asked.
Robert's eyes filled.
"That he was sorry."
Matteo swallowed.
"What else?"
"That he was watching over his sons."
Gabriel covered his mouth.
Robert continued.
"And that Victor would eventually make a mistake."
Matteo stared.
"What mistake?"
Robert looked toward me.
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Thomas Bennett's daughter."
Everyone turned.
I stepped backward.
"Me?"
Robert nodded.
"Anthony wrote that Thomas had hidden evidence Victor could never recover."
My heart pounded.
"The music box."
"Yes."
Robert looked at Matteo.
"He said that if Claire ever found it, Victor's entire operation would collapse."
Detective Whitmore leaned forward.
"We recovered the memory card."
Robert's expression changed.
"Have you examined it?"
"Not yet."
He looked frightened.
"Then you need to be careful."
"Why?"
"Because the files contain more than financial records."
Matteo frowned.
"What else?"
Robert looked at me.
"Names."
"Whose names?"
"People who helped Victor."
He swallowed.
"Police officers."
"Attorneys."
"Business executives."
"And members of Anthony's own organization."
The room went silent.
Detective Whitmore's expression hardened.
"Are you alleging corruption within law enforcement?"
Robert nodded.
"Yes."
She stood.
"I'll refer the evidence to the appropriate federal investigators."
Matteo looked toward the door.
"Then we wait."
But Robert shook his head.
"No."
Everyone turned.
"You don't understand."
His voice trembled.
"Victor knows the card has been found."
"How?" Matteo asked.
Robert looked at him.
"Because someone inside the investigation told him."
The detective's expression changed.
Robert continued.
"He'll move quickly."
Matteo stared.
"What does he want?"
"The original trust deed."
"Why?"
"Because it contains a provision that can invalidate every fraudulent transfer."
Matteo frowned.
"Margaret brought the original documents."
Robert shook his head.
"Not the final deed."
"Then where is it?"
Robert hesitated.
"Isabella hid it."
Matteo's jaw tightened.
"Where?"
Robert looked toward me again.
"With someone Victor would never suspect."
My stomach dropped.
"Who?"
Robert swallowed.
"Anna Bennett."
My mother.
I stared at him.
"She's dead."
"I know."
"Then where is it now?"
Robert's voice became almost inaudible.
"She left it to her daughters."
I thought about our destroyed apartment.
The missing music box.
The photographs.
The letters.
Then I remembered something.
My mother had left Lily and me one final possession.
A small wooden chest.
It sat in the storage room of our apartment building.
We had never opened it because the key was missing.
I looked at Matteo.
"The chest."
He frowned.
"What chest?"
"My mother's cedar chest."
I swallowed.
"She told us it contained things we weren't ready to understand."
Matteo stood.
"Where is it?"
"At our apartment building."
Detective Whitmore reached for her phone.
"We'll secure the location."
But before she could make the call, her phone buzzed.
She read the message.
Her expression changed.
"Miss Bennett."
I looked up.
"Yes?"
"The officers at your building just reported a fire."
My blood ran cold.
"What?"
"The basement storage area."
I grabbed the table.
"Our chest."
The detective nodded.
"Firefighters are responding."
Matteo reached for my hand.
But then the detective received another message.
She stared at the screen.
Her face went pale.
"There's a second report."
Matteo looked at her.
"What?"
She swallowed.
"A witness saw a woman leaving the building shortly before the fire."
"Who?"
The detective turned the phone toward us.
A security photograph appeared.
A woman in a red coat.
Dark sunglasses.
Long brown hair.
Vanessa Bellini.
May you like
And in her hands was a small wooden chest.
My mother's chest.
