Chapter 2 - The Clock in the Locker
Elena Marino stood in the service office with her hands clasped in front of her.
She looked nothing like a thief.
That meant absolutely nothing.
I had known polished thieves.
Nervous thieves.
Charming thieves.
People who stole millions while looking offended by the suggestion that they might take an extra sugar packet from a restaurant.
Appearance was useless.
Facts mattered.
Still, when Elena saw Isabella in my arms, her composure cracked.
“Bella.”
She rushed forward.
Isabella reached toward her.
I handed the child over.
Elena held her so tightly that the stuffed rabbit became trapped between them.
“I told you to stay in the lounge.”
“I’m sorry, Mommy.”
Elena kissed her hair.
Then she looked at me.
Fear replaced relief.
“Mr. Duca, I can explain.”
“Good.”
Carlo entered behind me carrying a blue handbag.
Renata followed.
Pino came in last.
I closed the door.
“Start from the beginning.”
Carlo cleared his throat.
“At approximately eleven forty this morning, Renata informed me that the antique clock outside your study was missing.”
“How did she know?”
Renata answered quickly.
“I was checking the corridor before lunch.”
“You check the corridor every day?”
“Yes.”
“At eleven forty?”
A pause.
“Usually around that time.”
Carlo continued.
“We searched the immediate rooms. Then Renata said she had seen Elena upstairs earlier.”
Elena turned.
“That’s not true.”
Renata’s face tightened.
“You were carrying linens near Mr. Duca’s study.”
“I was on the west staircase.”
“I saw you.”
“No, you didn’t.”
I raised one hand.
Both women became silent.
“Carlo.”
He nodded.
“We inspected staff lockers. The clock was found in Elena’s handbag.”
He placed the bag on the desk.
Then he removed a wrapped cloth.
Inside was the clock.
Blue sapphires.
Small diamonds.
Gold casing.
My mother’s initials engraved beneath the handle.
For several seconds, I said nothing.
I remembered her winding it when I was a child.
Every Sunday morning.
That soft clicking sound had filled the breakfast room while she drank coffee.
Then she died when I was nineteen.
After that, nobody touched the clock except me.
“Was Elena present when you searched her locker?”
“Yes.”
“Was the locker locked?”
Carlo hesitated.
“With a staff key.”
“Who has master access?”
“Me. Renata. Two supervisors.”
I looked at Renata.
Her face remained carefully neutral.
I turned toward Elena.
“Why were you upstairs?”
“I wasn’t near your study.”
“You understand how this looks.”
“Yes.”
Her voice shook.
“But I did not take it.”
“Your daughter says Renata put it in your bag.”
Silence.
Elena’s eyes widened.
She turned toward Isabella.
“Bella?”
Renata’s expression hardened.
“She’s four years old.”
“I’m aware.”
“She doesn’t understand what she saw.”
Isabella tightened her arms around Elena.
“Yes, I do.”
Renata looked at her.
“Sweetheart—”
Pino growled.
Not loudly.
But every adult in the room heard it.
Renata stopped.
I looked at the dog.
He was standing between her and the child.
Interesting again.
“Elena,” I said, “why would Renata want you removed?”
“I don’t know.”
Renata gave a short laugh.
“This is absurd.”
I ignored her.
“Elena.”
Her eyes dropped.
That was the first sign she was holding something back.
“You do know something.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
She looked at me.
I waited.
People disliked silence.
Most filled it eventually.
She did.
“Three nights ago, I saw Renata coming out of the east office.”
Carlo frowned.
“What east office?”
“The one beside the formal dining room.”
My attention sharpened.
That office had been locked for months.
It was being used to store financial records related to several family properties.
“What time?”
“After midnight.”
Renata scoffed.
“I was checking windows.”
Elena shook her head.
“You were holding papers.”
“Laundry inventory.”
“There’s no laundry kept in that wing.”
Renata stared at her.
For the first time, the polished senior housekeeper disappeared.
Something colder showed beneath.
“You should be careful.”
Elena went still.
I did too.
“What did you say?”
Renata immediately realized her mistake.
“I meant she should be careful making accusations.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“You meant exactly what you said.”
Her face changed.
“Mr. Duca—”
“Carlo, who else knows about this?”
“The missing clock?”
“Yes.”
“Only household staff and Mr. Marchetti.”
I looked at him.
“Why does Adrian know?”
Carlo hesitated.
“He was in the east hall when we discovered it.”
Of course he was.
“And why was he in the east hall?”
“He said he was looking for you.”
I smiled without humor.
“He knew I was in a meeting with him.”
Carlo’s face changed.
The room became quiet again.
I picked up the clock.
Examined it.
No visible damage.
But something felt off.
My mother had once told me never to carry the clock by the jeweled top because a hidden release mechanism could loosen.
I hadn’t thought about that detail in years.
I pressed beneath the handle.
Click.
A tiny compartment opened at the base.
Empty.
I stared.
There had always been something inside.
A folded photograph.
A small black-and-white picture of my mother standing beside my father before they married.
I had checked it only two months earlier.
Now it was gone.
My gaze lifted.
“The photograph is missing.”
Nobody spoke.
Renata looked confused.
Carlo looked genuinely shocked.
Elena looked scared.
I watched each reaction carefully.
“What photograph?” Carlo asked.
“Something stored inside the clock.”
Renata’s breathing changed.
Barely.
But I noticed.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“You just reacted.”
“I didn’t.”
Pino moved toward the desk.
Sniffed the cloth.
Then the clock.
Then the handbag.
He circled once.
Suddenly he left the desk and went toward Renata.
She stepped backward.
Pino sniffed near the bottom of her apron.
“Call him off.”
“He’s smelling something.”
“I don’t like dogs.”
“That seems mutual.”
Pino moved toward her right shoe.
Then stopped.
His nose stayed there.
I crouched.
“Don’t move.”
Renata’s face drained of color.
“What are you doing?”
I looked at the edge of her shoe.
Something blue glittered near the sole.
I removed it.
A tiny sapphire chip.
The same color as the stones on the clock.
Carlo stared.
Renata immediately said, “It must have fallen when I found the clock.”
“You said Carlo found it.”
Her mouth closed.
I stood.
The difference between an innocent person and a liar was often not the first story.
It was the second.
“Take Isabella upstairs,” I told Elena.
Elena hesitated.
“Sir—”
“You are not being dismissed.”
She stared at me.
“Not until I know what actually happened.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
She nodded.
As she carried Isabella toward the door, the child looked over Elena’s shoulder.
“Pino coming?”
The dog immediately followed.
I nearly smiled again.
The door closed.
Only Carlo, Renata, and I remained.
I put the sapphire on the desk.
“Now we’re going to start over.”
Renata folded her hands.
“I have already told you everything.”
“No. You told me what you wanted me to believe.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You’re accusing me because of a four-year-old?”
“I’m asking why a sapphire from my mother’s clock is embedded in your shoe.”
“I stepped on it.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Convenient.”
She looked toward Carlo.
He didn’t help her.
I stepped closer.
“And I want to know why Adrian Marchetti looked at you like a man watching a problem he thought had already been solved.”
That broke something.
Only for an instant.
Her eyes moved toward the door.
She was thinking about running.
“Don’t.”
She froze.
“I haven’t done anything.”
“Then you have nothing to fear.”
Her jaw tightened.
I picked up my phone.
“Carlo, lock the east office.”
“It’s already locked.”
“Change the lock.”
He nodded.
“And pull security footage from every corridor covering that wing since midnight three days ago.”
Renata spoke too quickly.
“The camera near that office isn’t working.”
I slowly turned.
Carlo frowned.
“How do you know?”
Renata said nothing.
There it was.
Not proof.
But close.
“How long has it been broken?” I asked.
Carlo checked his tablet.
“It shouldn’t be. Maintenance replaced that camera six weeks ago.”
I watched Renata.
Her face had gone completely still.
“Carlo.”
“Yes?”
“Have someone escort Renata to the guest sitting room. She stays there until I’m finished.”
“You cannot detain me.”
“You’re free to leave my property.”
Relief flashed across her face.
Then I added, “But if you walk out that door before I finish asking questions, I’ll assume you don’t want me finding whatever is in the east office.”
Her relief disappeared.
She hated me in that moment.
Good.
Carlo escorted her out.
I remained alone.
I looked at the clock.
Then I opened the hidden compartment again.
Empty.
Why steal the photograph?
It had no financial value.
Unless somebody believed something was hidden behind it.
I lifted the clock closer.
A faint scratch marked the inside of the compartment.
Fresh.
Someone had forced something out.
I pressed my thumb against the metal.
Then noticed something I hadn’t seen before.
Tiny letters engraved inside.
Not my mother’s initials.
A name.
M. Marchetti.
I stared at it.
Marchetti.
The same family sitting upstairs discussing my future marriage.
The same family whose patriarch had been watching Renata from the staircase.
And suddenly the pressure to marry Adrian’s daughter no longer felt like coincidence.
I called my security chief.
“Marco.”
“Yes, boss?”
“Close the gates.”
A pause.
“All of them?”
“All of them.”
“Problem?”
I looked toward the ceiling.
Toward the east wing.
Toward the men waiting for me to return and sign away part of my future.
“Yes.”
I closed the clock.
May you like
“And I think the people upstairs brought it with them.”
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