Chapter 5 - The Ledger That Should Have Balanced
Aleandro had learned as a young man that fear was useful only when it arrived early enough to become information.
Panic was fear wasted.
Standing in darkness beneath his own family chapel while Vittorio Greco discussed his death ten feet above him, Aleandro felt no panic.
He listened.
“Everything moves tomorrow night,” Vittorio said.
Another voice answered.
“And the girl?”
“Which girl?”
“The maid’s daughter.”
Aleandro’s hand tightened.
Vittorio sounded irritated.
“She knows nothing.”
“She identified Vieri.”
“A three-year-old child cannot threaten us.”
The second man replied, “Her mother did.”
Silence.
Then Vittorio said, “Elena Rossi will no longer be a problem after the transfer.”
Marco moved beside Aleandro.
Aleandro placed one hand against his chest.
Wait.
The second voice continued.
“What about Daniel?”
“Disposable.”
“And Marco?”
“Adrian wants him alive.”
“Why?”
“To make an example.”
Aleandro felt Marco’s breathing change.
Vittorio said, “Aleandro’s greatest weakness is loyalty. Adrian wants everyone to understand what loyalty bought them.”
Footsteps approached the hidden panel.
Aleandro scanned the room.
One exit.
No windows.
Marco whispered, “We’re trapped.”
Aleandro pointed at the servers.
Cooling vents.
A narrow maintenance opening ran behind them.
They moved quickly.
Marco removed the panel.
The space was barely large enough.
“You first,” Aleandro whispered.
“Absolutely not.”
“This is not a democracy.”
“Neither is friendship.”
The keypad beeped above.
Aleandro shoved Marco toward the opening.
Marco disappeared inside.
Aleandro followed.
The hidden door opened just as he pulled the ventilation panel back into place.
Through the metal grille, he saw Vittorio descend.
The old attorney looked exactly as he always did.
Silver hair.
Dark suit.
Gold ring with black stone.
For twenty-five years, Vittorio had stood beside the Moretti family.
He had attended funerals.
Weddings.
Board meetings.
He had once carried Aleandro from a hospital after he was shot in the shoulder.
Aleandro had trusted him almost as much as Marco.
Vittorio walked toward Elena’s file.
A younger man followed.
Not Adrian.
Security captain Tomas Bellini.
Another trusted employee.
Tomas had worked at the estate for twelve years.
“Did you check the room?” Vittorio asked.
“Yes.”
“Anything missing?”
“No.”
A lie.
Aleandro had taken the file on Adrian.
Tomas walked toward the cabinet.
He opened it.
Pause.
“This drawer was unlocked.”
Vittorio turned.
“It is always locked.”
Aleandro and Marco crawled faster.
The ventilation tunnel descended.
Dust filled Aleandro’s lungs.
Behind them, Vittorio shouted.
“Search the chapel!”
They reached another grille.
Marco kicked it loose.
They dropped into an old wine-storage corridor.
An alarm began sounding.
Not the estate alarm.
A private alarm from beneath the chapel.
Vittorio had discovered the intrusion.
“We have maybe three minutes,” Marco said.
“To do what?”
“Disappear from a house containing thirty men, some number of whom want you dead.”
Aleandro adjusted his jacket.
“Then let’s find out who.”
They separated.
Marco went toward the security annex.
Aleandro returned to the main residence through the kitchen.
Rosa saw dust covering his suit.
She opened her mouth.
“Not now.”
She closed it.
“Where’s Mia?”
“With me.”
“Keep her there.”
Rosa studied him.
“Is Elena alive?”
“I think so.”
Rosa crossed herself.
Aleandro went upstairs.
He sat behind his desk.
Then he did something Vittorio would not expect.
He called everyone.
All senior staff.
All lieutenants.
All department managers currently on the estate.
Meeting room.
Ten minutes.
By the time Vittorio arrived from the chapel, Aleandro was already seated at the head of the long table.
Vittorio’s expression did not change.
“Aleandro. I thought you might be busy.”
“I was.”
“With?”
“Accounting.”
For half a second, something appeared in Vittorio’s eyes.
Aleandro continued.
“Our western warehouse numbers are wrong.”
Vittorio took his usual seat.
“How wrong?”
“Four hundred twenty-seven thousand dollars.”
“Significant.”
“Very.”
Tomas entered.
Aleandro looked at him.
Tomas looked back calmly.
No dust.
No sign he had just searched the underground room.
Other men took seats.
Marco entered last.
His face was unreadable.
Aleandro pushed copies of the ledger across the table.
“Nobody leaves the estate until I understand these numbers.”
Several men exchanged glances.
Vittorio smiled.
“You suspect theft?”
“I suspect incompetence.”
That insult was intentional.
Men who feared being called thieves behaved carefully.
Men who feared being called incompetent became emotional.
Aleandro watched.
Warehouse manager Carlo Rizzi became angry.
Accountant Steven Hale became nervous.
Tomas remained still.
Vittorio almost looked amused.
“Who authorized Shipment 614?” Aleandro asked.
Carlo checked the page.
“Digital authorization says you.”
“I didn’t.”
Silence.
Vittorio leaned forward.
“Could someone have copied your code?”
“Perhaps.”
“Then we have a serious security failure.”
Aleandro looked directly at Tomas.
“We do.”
Tomas’s jaw tightened.
Good.
Marco asked, “Where did 614 go?”
Carlo swallowed.
“Northstar Logistics.”
Vittorio glanced at him.
Tiny movement.
Enough.
Aleandro continued.
“Who approved Northstar as a vendor?”
Steven Hale raised a hand reluctantly.
“I received authorization.”
“From?”
“Mr. Greco’s office.”
Every person looked at Vittorio.
The lawyer did not blink.
“My office processes hundreds of approvals.”
“Of course.”
Aleandro smiled faintly.
“Find the paperwork.”
“I will.”
“No.”
Aleandro leaned back.
“Find it now.”
Vittorio’s eyes narrowed.
“I would need access to my files.”
“Use mine.”
Aleandro pushed his laptop toward him.
A test.
Vittorio could refuse.
Or he could log into a system Aleandro knew had been altered.
Vittorio smiled.
“I’m afraid I don’t remember the authorization number.”
“Interesting.”
“Why?”
“You remember everything.”
That was true.
Everyone knew it.
Vittorio’s memory was legendary.
Dates.
Figures.
Contracts from fifteen years earlier.
Vittorio looked around the table.
Then he laughed softly.
“Are you accusing me?”
Aleandro said nothing.
Vittorio’s smile disappeared.
For a second, the mask cracked.
Then his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
Whatever he saw changed his face.
He stood.
“Excuse me.”
“Nobody leaves.”
“This is personal.”
“So is missing money.”
Vittorio stared at Aleandro.
The room held its breath.
Finally, Vittorio sat.
But Aleandro had seen the caller name before the screen went dark.
ADRIAN.
The dead man was calling.
Aleandro continued the meeting for another forty minutes.
Then Marco slipped him a note.
We found the vehicle Elena left South Station in.
Camera at 12:31 a.m.
Aleandro turned the paper over.
Marco had written another sentence.
She was not alone.
The camera showed Elena entering a blue delivery van with a woman.
That woman worked in Aleandro’s mansion.
Her name was Sofia Bellini.
Tomas’s younger sister.
May you like
And according to Moretti employment records, Sofia Bellini had died two years ago.
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