Chapter 4 - The Fever Was a Clock
Sebastian Romano was the kind of man who made politeness feel like a threat.
At fifty-seven, he remained handsome in a cold, aristocratic way. Silver touched his dark hair at the temples. His suits looked handmade because they were. His voice almost never rose.
He looked from Vincent to Keller, then to me.
“Good morning, Clara.”
“Mr. Romano.”
His gaze dropped to the fake courier uniform.
“What an unusual meeting.”
Vincent stepped forward.
“Why are you here?”
Sebastian smiled faintly.
“This is my family’s home.”
“It’s Alexander’s home.”
“A distinction my nephew occasionally enjoys making.”
Keller folded his arms.
“The board meeting is canceled.”
Sebastian’s smile vanished.
“Excuse me?”
“Alexander is medically incapable of reviewing documents.”
“That is precisely why temporary authority must be established.”
“At noon?” I asked.
Sebastian looked at me as if surprised furniture had spoken.
“Yes.”
“He’s unconscious.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then how can he sign?”
“He doesn’t need to. The emergency succession agreement becomes active if two physicians certify incapacity.”
My stomach tightened.
“Two physicians?”
“Keller and Dr. Pearson,” Vincent said.
Sebastian glanced at him.
“Correct.”
I understood.
Alexander did not need to die immediately.
He only needed to remain unconscious long enough for someone else to take control.
Then he could die later.
After the transfer looked legitimate.
“You should return upstairs,” Sebastian told me.
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because you’re a maid.”
There it was.
The invisible wall I had learned to live behind.
Normally I would have lowered my eyes.
Not that morning.
“I was also a nursing assistant.”
“I’m delighted for you.”
“And I’m the reason Alexander hasn’t received another dose of the wrong medication.”
Sebastian stopped smiling.
Keller looked at me sharply.
I continued.
“Someone substituted tablets that suppress breathing.”
Sebastian’s expression remained remarkably controlled.
“How terrible.”
“You don’t seem surprised.”
“I spent thirty years working around my brother. Very little surprises me.”
“Your brother died suddenly too.”
That landed.
Vincent turned toward me.
Sebastian’s eyes sharpened.
“Be careful, Miss Hayes.”
“With what?”
“Stories created by fear.”
He turned and walked upstairs.
Before leaving, he looked back.
“At noon, the board will meet. Whether Alexander wakes or not.”
Then he disappeared.
For several seconds none of us moved.
Keller finally exhaled.
“You just accused a Romano in his own cellar.”
“I asked a question.”
“That’s worse.”
Vincent picked up the courier note.
“We have five hours.”
“For what?” I asked.
“To wake Alexander or prove someone intentionally drugged him.”
“And if we can’t?”
Vincent looked toward the stairs.
“Sebastian takes control of everything.”
We returned upstairs.
Alexander’s fever had climbed again.
102.9.
Keller immediately started supportive treatment from sealed supplies.
Fluids.
Cooling measures.
Oxygen.
No medication from any unverified source.
I stayed beside Alexander while Keller monitored him.
Eleanor stood near the window.
“Blue ledger,” I said.
She looked at me.
“What do you know about it?”
“Very little.”
“You said his father kept one.”
“Yes.”
“Why blue?”
“Leather cover.”
“What did he write in it?”
“Everything he didn’t trust computers with.”
“Business?”
“Names. Accounts. Agreements.”
“Enemies?”
Eleanor gave a tired smile.
“In that family, there wasn’t much difference.”
Vincent entered.
“I checked Alexander’s study.”
“No ledger,” he said before I could ask.
“Where else?”
“His father’s old office.”
“Locked?”
“Always.”
Eleanor’s face changed.
“What?”
“Alexander never uses that room.”
“Why?”
“Because nothing has been moved since his father died.”
A strange feeling passed through me.
“Maybe that’s exactly why.”
The old office occupied the west wing.
I had entered it only twice to dust.
Dark wood.
Heavy curtains.
A giant portrait of Alexander’s father, Lorenzo Romano.
He looked like Alexander around the eyes.
We searched carefully.
Drawers.
Shelves.
Cabinets.
Nothing.
I stood before Lorenzo’s portrait.
Seventeen years ago, he had become sick suddenly.
Then died.
What would a man who feared betrayal do with a secret ledger?
Hide it somewhere nobody loyal to the future would destroy.
I looked behind the portrait.
Nothing.
Then I noticed one corner did not sit flat.
“Vincent.”
He lifted the frame.
Behind it was a small recessed safe.
Keller stared.
“Do you know the combination?”
Eleanor stepped forward.
She entered six digits.
The safe clicked.
Everyone looked at her.
“What?”
“How did you know?”
She swallowed.
“Lorenzo trusted me.”
Inside were three objects.
An old photograph.
A small cassette recorder.
And a blue leather ledger.
My heart began pounding.
Vincent opened it.
Most pages contained coded transactions.
Names.
Dates.
Initials.
Then he stopped.
One entry had been circled in red.
S.R. — MEDICAL PROCUREMENT / PRIVATE TRANSFER / KELLER UNAWARE
Keller stared.
“S.R.”
Sebastian Romano.
The next line carried a date.
Seventeen years earlier.
Three days before Lorenzo Romano died.
Then beneath it was one handwritten sentence:
If I become ill suddenly, do not trust the medicine.
Nobody spoke.
I felt the air leave my lungs.
The past had just reached seventeen years into the future.
May you like
And grabbed Alexander by the throat.
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