Chapter 11 - Arthur’s Daughter
Arthur Vale’s daughter was named Claire.
Seventeen years earlier, she had been twenty-two.
A university student.
Bright.
Impulsive.
Determined to leave the shadow of the Conti estate where her father had spent most of his adult life.
She disappeared in June.
Her car was found at a bus station.
Her bank account was untouched.
Police assumed she left voluntarily after an argument with Arthur.
No body.
No confirmed sightings.
No explanation.
Arthur never stopped looking.
Rosanna kept Claire’s photograph in an old employee album.
Emma studied it.
A young woman with light brown hair and a wide smile.
“She looks happy.”
“She was,” Rosanna said.
“What happened before she disappeared?”
“Arthur and Claire argued constantly.”
“About?”
“Her boyfriend.”
Alessandro frowned.
“Who?”
Rosanna shook her head.
“I never knew.”
Marco entered with newly retrieved records.
“We may know now.”
He placed a photocopy on the table.
A parking ticket issued to Claire’s car three weeks before she vanished.
Passenger listed after a minor traffic stop:
Daniel Mercer.
Rosanna stared.
“No.”
Alessandro’s expression darkened.
“Daniel was forty.”
“Claire was twenty-two,” Emma said.
Marco nodded.
“They may have been involved.”
Rosanna looked sick.
“Arthur would have killed him.”
“Maybe that’s why they hid it.”
“Did Daniel make her disappear?” Emma asked.
“We don’t know.”
Alessandro stood.
“But Arthur may believe he did.”
They tracked Arthur’s vehicle using highway cameras.
He drove north.
Toward a small town near the Canadian border.
Marco pulled property records.
Daniel owned nothing there.
Neither did Claire.
But Samuel DeMarco once had.
A cabin.
Purchased twenty-four years earlier.
Sold seventeen years ago.
Exactly one month after Claire disappeared.
“Who bought it?” Alessandro asked.
Marco looked at the screen.
“Arthur Vale.”
Everyone stared.
Rosanna whispered, “Arthur owns a cabin?”
“Apparently.”
“Why would he buy Samuel DeMarco’s cabin?”
No one knew.
Emma looked at Alessandro.
“We should go.”
He sighed.
“You say that every time.”
“And I’m usually right.”
“That is debatable.”
Rosanna smiled weakly.
“Take her.”
“Mother.”
“She’ll follow you anyway.”
Emma shrugged.
“Also true.”
They left before sunset.
The drive took nearly five hours.
During the first hour, Alessandro worked continuously from the passenger seat.
Calls.
Legal teams.
Auditors.
Investigators.
Emma sat behind him.
Eventually she said, “Do you ever stop?”
He looked back.
“Stop what?”
“Working.”
“No.”
“That wasn’t admirable.”
“I didn’t think it was.”
“Good.”
He turned back.
Ten minutes later, he closed the laptop.
Emma smiled.
“Progress.”
Marco glanced in the mirror.
Alessandro ignored both of them.
They reached the cabin after dark.
Arthur’s vehicle was outside.
No lights inside.
Alessandro approached first.
“Arthur?”
Silence.
Marco opened the unlocked door.
Arthur sat at a table.
An old box in front of him.
He looked exhausted.
When he saw Alessandro, he did not appear surprised.
“I knew you’d come.”
Rosanna had insisted they bring police, but Arthur did not resist.
He simply looked at Emma.
“You’re the maid.”
“Emma.”
“The one who protected Mrs. Conti.”
“Yes.”
Arthur nodded.
“Good.”
Alessandro remained standing.
“You drugged my mother.”
Arthur closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Emma’s stomach tightened.
“Why?”
Arthur reached into the box.
Marco immediately moved.
Arthur raised both hands.
“Only papers.”
He withdrew a photograph.
Claire.
“Daniel told me she was alive.”
Silence.
“He contacted me two weeks after she disappeared.”
Arthur’s voice shook.
“He said Claire had gotten involved with people who could hurt her.”
“Was she involved with him?” Alessandro asked.
Arthur looked down.
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Six months.”
“Did you know?”
“Not until after.”
Arthur rubbed his face.
“Daniel said Claire discovered things she shouldn’t have.”
“Financial records?”
“Yes.”
“She threatened to expose him?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“He told me she ran.”
“And you believed him?”
“I wanted to.”
Arthur’s eyes filled.
“Then Daniel sent me photographs.”
He spread several across the table.
Claire.
Different locations.
Different years.
At least apparently.
Emma studied them.
“Are these real?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
Arthur whispered.
“Every year or two, Daniel would send another.”
Alessandro understood.
“Proof of life.”
“Yes.”
“And in exchange?”
Arthur stared at him.
“Small favors.”
“What kind?”
“Move a document. Delay a message. Tell him when your mother met with lawyers.”
“And recently?”
Arthur began crying.
“He told me Claire was sick.”
Emma looked away.
“He said he needed money for her care.”
“How much?”
“More than I had.”
“So he told you to help Vanessa.”
Arthur nodded.
“What did you give Rosanna?”
“A sedative.”
Bellini had been right.
“Why?”
“To make her forget things.”
“What things?”
“Questions she asked Daniel.”
Rosanna had begun remembering Vittorio’s papers.
The key.
The carriage house.
Arthur had been instructed to keep her confused.
Alessandro’s face tightened.
“You could have killed her.”
“I know.”
“And you did it anyway.”
Arthur looked destroyed.
“I know.”
“Where is Claire?”
“I came here to find out.”
He opened the box.
Inside were letters.
All supposedly from Claire.
Emma picked one up.
“Did you verify handwriting?”
“Daniel said she was afraid to contact directly.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
“No.”
Arthur looked at Alessandro.
“I was a coward.”
Alessandro said nothing.
“Your mother trusted me.”
“Yes.”
“I betrayed her.”
“Yes.”
“I have no excuse.”
“No.”
Arthur almost seemed relieved by the refusal to comfort him.
Then Emma noticed the postage.
“These letters were mailed from different states.”
Arthur nodded.
“Daniel traveled frequently.”
Marco took photographs for evidence.
Then one letter caught Emma’s attention.
Not because of handwriting.
Because of the paper.
A hotel logo faintly embossed at the top.
She recognized the name.
The Savoy.
London.
“Alessandro.”
He looked.
“That’s where your reservation was.”
“Yes.”
“The staged trip.”
Marco frowned.
“Mercer used the same hotel?”
Emma pointed to the date.
Four years earlier.
Marco immediately searched travel records.
Daniel had indeed been in London.
So had someone else.
A woman named Claire Vale.
Passport entry.
Arthur stood so quickly the chair fell backward.
“What?”
Marco stared at the screen.
“Claire entered the United Kingdom four years ago.”
Arthur began shaking.
“She’s alive.”
“Maybe.”
“Where did she go?”
Marco searched.
No return record under that name.
Emma looked at Alessandro.
“Could she still be there?”
“Possibly.”
Arthur covered his face.
Seventeen years.
Seventeen years believing his daughter was hidden somewhere because of Daniel.
If she was alive, why had she never contacted him?
Then Alessandro noticed something in the passport data.
“Photo.”
Marco enlarged it.
Arthur looked.
His face changed.
“That isn’t Claire.”
Everyone froze.
Emma leaned closer.
The woman resembled Claire.
Similar age progression.
Similar coloring.
But Arthur knew immediately.
“Not her.”
“So Daniel created a false identity using Claire’s name,” Marco said.
“Why?”
No one answered.
Then Emma looked at the letters.
The photographs.
The fake travel records.
Proof of life had never been proof.
It was theater.
Daniel had kept Arthur obedient using a daughter who might have been dead for seventeen years.
Arthur whispered:
“I poisoned Mrs. Conti for a ghost.”
Emma felt tears in her eyes.
Alessandro’s phone rang.
An investigator from the storage unit.
“We found another video.”
“What?”
“Claire Vale.”
Arthur looked up.
Alessandro placed the call on speaker.
The investigator continued.
“Recorded seventeen years ago.”
“Is she alive in it?”
“Yes.”
Arthur grabbed the table.
“What does she say?”
A pause.
“She says she is leaving voluntarily.”
Arthur began crying.
Then the investigator added:
“But at the end of the recording, she says something about Daniel.”
“What?”
“She says, ‘If anything happens to me, my father needs to know Daniel did not send me away.’”
Arthur stared.
“What does that mean?”
The investigator hesitated.
“She says someone else did.”
“Who?”
The answer shocked even Alessandro.
“Vittorio Conti.”
Arthur turned slowly toward him.
Alessandro went still.
“My father was dead by then.”
“Yes.”
“That’s impossible.”
“The recording is dated two years after Vittorio’s death.”
Emma felt the room become colder.
Either the date was false.
Or Claire had been talking about instructions Vittorio left before his death.
The investigator continued:
“She says Vittorio arranged for her to disappear because she had evidence against Daniel.”
Arthur stared at Alessandro.
“My daughter didn’t abandon me.”
“No,” Emma whispered.
Arthur’s eyes filled.
“She was protecting me.”
And somewhere inside Daniel’s archive might be proof Claire had spent seventeen years hiding not from her father—
May you like
but from the man her father later served.
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