Chapter 4 - The Brother Who Wasn't in Italy
By sunrise, nobody in the Vancini house had slept.
Dante stood in the library with a map of Naples open on one screen and security footage from his Manhattan residence open on another.
Clara sat at the end of a leather sofa with Sophia curled against her side.
Elias worked from a temporary station near the fireplace.
The old phone lay sealed inside an evidence pouch.
Carlo remained under guard.
Julian and Vincent had vanished.
And Marco Vancini was missing in Italy.
The first call had come from Marco's driver.
He had found the abandoned sedan on a narrow road outside the city.
The driver's side door was open.
Blood marked the seat.
Marco's phone was gone.
His wallet remained in the console.
Dante listened to the facts without interrupting.
Then he asked one question.
"When was he last seen?"
The answer came back.
"Tuesday night."
Clara looked at Dante.
It was Friday morning.
Marco had been missing for almost three days.
Dante ended the call.
"Why didn't anyone tell you sooner?"
Clara asked it quietly.
Dante stared at the dark screen.
"Because Marco was supposed to be at a private property with no staff."
"Alone?"
"Yes."
"So somebody knew nobody would notice."
Dante looked at her.
He hated the conclusion.
He did not deny it.
Elias cleared his throat.
"I found something else."
Dante crossed the room.
Elias turned the laptop around.
"The male voice in Elena's recording is too short for a definitive biometric match."
"But?"
"I compared it with archived audio from Marco."
Dante's shoulders tightened.
"And?"
"Close enough to worry me."
Sophia looked up at the name.
Clara felt it.
"Sophia, do you want paper?"
The girl nodded.
Clara handed her the order pad she still carried in her apron.
Sophia drew immediately.
A square.
A line across the top.
Two stick figures.
One tall.
One small.
Then she drew three circles above them.
Dante crouched several feet away.
"What is that?"
Sophia drew another figure outside the square.
She gave it a dark scribble where the face should be.
Then she wrote one letter.
M.
Dante closed his eyes.
"Marco."
Sophia shook her head.
Everyone stopped.
Clara leaned closer.
"Not Marco?"
Sophia shook her head again.
She pointed at the M.
Then at herself.
"Mommy?"
Sophia nodded.
Clara studied the drawing.
The small figure was Sophia.
The tall figure inside the square was Elena.
The dark figure outside remained unidentified.
"The M is Mommy."
Sophia nodded.
Dante exhaled.
For one second, relief flashed across his face.
Then Sophia drew a second letter beside the dark figure.
V.
Vincent.
Dante's relief vanished.
Clara pointed carefully.
"Is that Vincent?"
Sophia hesitated.
Then nodded.
Dante looked at Elias.
"Play the voice again."
Elias did.
"Where is she?"
Sophia covered her ears.
Clara stopped the audio.
"Enough."
Dante nodded immediately.
He did not ask another question.
That mattered to Clara.
Three hours later, the house received a package.
There was no return address.
No courier was visible on camera.
The box had been left outside the service gate during a two-minute blind spot in the exterior security system.
Inside was Marco's watch.
A Patek Philippe Dante had given him on his fortieth birthday.
The leather strap was stained dark.
Underneath it lay a printed photograph.
Marco was sitting in a chair.
His hands were bound in front of him.
A newspaper rested on his lap.
That morning's date was visible.
Marco was alive.
At least he had been when the picture was taken.
On the back, someone had typed a message.
STOP DIGGING INTO ELENA OR THE NEXT PACKAGE WILL BE SMALLER.
Dante read it once.
Then he handed it to Elias.
"Trace everything."
Clara looked at the photograph.
"They want you to think Marco is a victim."
Dante turned toward her.
"You don't?"
"I don't know."
"Say what you're thinking."
Clara hated that the room was full of armed men.
She hated even more that she was starting to forget that detail when she spoke to Dante.
"If Marco had been missing for three days, why does the threat arrive only after Sophia spoke?"
Elias looked up.
Dante said nothing.
Clara continued.
"And whoever sent this knew exactly what would scare you most."
"My brother dying would scare me."
"Yes."
"That's not a mystery."
"No, but the wording is."
Clara pointed at the message.
"Stop digging into Elena."
Dante looked down.
"They don't say stop accusing Julian."
Elias finished the thought.
"They don't say give back the phone."
Clara nodded.
"They say Elena."
Dante stared at the photograph for a long time.
Then he looked at the old phone.
"Because Elena is bigger than Julian."
At 9:40 a.m., another problem arrived.
Two detectives from the NYPD appeared at the front gate.
They wanted to speak to Clara.
Dante refused them entry.
The lead detective identified himself as Detective Anthony Mercer.
He said a complaint had been filed overnight.
Clara had allegedly stolen a diamond bracelet from a Belladonna Room guest.
Clara laughed because the accusation was so absurd that for a moment she thought she had misheard him.
Nobody else laughed.
Dante looked at her.
"Were you near the guest?"
"I was near fifty guests."
"Did you touch a bracelet?"
"No."
"Do you own a diamond bracelet?"
"I own three pairs of earrings, and one pair came from a drugstore."
Dante almost smiled.
Then the gate intercom crackled again.
Detective Mercer spoke.
"Mr. Vancini, we have a warrant to search Ms. Hale's locker at the restaurant and her apartment."
Clara's stomach dropped.
Dante noticed.
"What's wrong?"
"My apartment."
"What about it?"
"Nobody should be there."
"Who has a key?"
"Me and the landlord."
Her mind raced.
"And the landlord already threatened to change the locks if I didn't pay by Monday."
Dante picked up his coat.
"We're going."
Clara stared at him.
"To my apartment?"
"Yes."
"With the police there?"
"Especially with the police there."
Sophia grabbed Clara's hand.
Dante looked down at her.
"You stay here."
Sophia shook her head violently.
Clara crouched.
"I'll come back."
Sophia's eyes filled.
"Promise?"
It was the first complete question Clara had heard from her.
The room stopped.
Clara's throat tightened.
"I promise."
Sophia let go.
Dante drove Clara himself.
Two black SUVs followed.
They reached her building twenty-four minutes later.
Police cars lined the curb.
Her landlord stood on the sidewalk in pajama pants and a jacket.
He looked terrified when he saw Dante.
Detective Mercer intercepted them at the entrance.
"Ms. Hale."
He held up a clear evidence bag.
Inside was a diamond bracelet.
Clara stared at it.
"Where did you find that?"
Mercer pointed toward the building.
"Under your mattress."
Clara looked at Dante.
"That is not mine."
Mercer continued.
"We also found twenty thousand dollars in cash."
Clara almost stopped breathing.
"What?"
"And this."
He held up a second bag.
Inside was a blue silk ribbon with gold thread.
The same ribbon from Elena's files.
Dante's face became unreadable.
Clara stared at the ribbon.
Then at the detective.
"Someone planted that."
Mercer looked almost sympathetic.
"That's what people usually say."
Dante stepped between them.
"Who filed the complaint?"
Mercer hesitated.
"A guest from the Belladonna Room."
"Name."
"I can't give you that here."
Dante took out his phone.
"Then I'll have it in five minutes."
Mercer's jaw tightened.
Clara looked at the open apartment door behind him.
Her bedroom was visible from the hall.
Drawers pulled out.
Mattress lifted.
Clothes on the floor.
Her entire life turned inside out.
Then she noticed something on the wall above her dresser.
A photograph was missing.
Her only picture of her mother.
Clara pushed past the detective.
"Where is it?"
Mercer followed.
"Ms. Hale, stop."
Clara reached the dresser.
The cheap wooden frame was gone.
In its place someone had written four words in black marker directly on the wall.
YOU SHOULD HAVE WALKED AWAY.
Dante saw it.
Mercer saw it.
Clara's knees nearly gave out.
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered without thinking.
A man's voice spoke quietly.
"You promised the girl you'd come back."
Clara went cold.
"Who is this?"
The voice ignored her.
"You have one hour to break that promise."
The call ended.
May you like
Dante was already dialing the house.
No one answered.
