Chapter 5 - The Picture Drawn in Crayon
Victor read the message twice.
Then deleted it.
He was sitting alone inside his car near the Moretti estate’s southern gate.
For the first time in years, his hands were not steady.
Thomas Bennett should have stayed buried in an archive.
So should Harbor Nine.
Victor called Celeste.
She answered immediately.
“He knows.”
“I heard.”
“How?”
“The child.”
Victor closed his eyes.
“Three years of planning, and it’s collapsing because of a toddler.”
“Don’t underestimate Luca.”
“I’m not.”
“Then stop behaving like a frightened amateur.”
Victor’s voice sharpened.
“You’re the one who left the ledger in the cellar.”
“I retrieved it.”
“Too late.”
“He has nothing.”
“He has suspicion.”
“Suspicion isn’t proof.”
Victor looked toward the mansion.
“With Luca, suspicion becomes proof eventually.”
Celeste went quiet.
“What do you want to do?”
Victor’s answer was immediate.
“Move the final transfer forward.”
“That’s dangerous.”
“So is waiting.”
“And Elena?”
Another pause.
Victor stared at the dark windows of the east wing.
“She signed one document.”
“Under pressure.”
“Still her signature.”
“She can explain that.”
“Not if everyone believes she was part of it.”
Celeste inhaled slowly.
“You want to frame the maid?”
“I want Luca looking in the wrong direction.”
“And her child?”
“Leave the child alone.”
Celeste seemed surprised.
Victor added, “I’m not a monster.”
No.
He was something far more dangerous.
He was a man who still believed he was justified.
Upstairs, Mia sat cross-legged on the floor with a box of crayons.
Luca had given her paper.
Elena had given Luca a warning.
“Don’t turn this into an interrogation.”
“It’s drawing.”
“You’re watching every line she makes.”
“I watch everyone.”
“That is not comforting.”
Mia interrupted.
“Mommy.”
“Yes?”
“Green.”
Elena handed her a green crayon.
Luca sat near the window pretending to review messages.
Mia drew the mansion.
Or something vaguely resembling it.
A huge square.
Windows.
A crooked staircase.
A black rectangle.
“What’s that?” Luca asked.
Elena gave him a look.
He shrugged.
“I’m making conversation.”
“Bottle room,” Mia said.
Wine cellar.
Then she drew a hallway leading away from it.
Luca frowned.
“There isn’t a hallway there.”
Mia nodded vigorously.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I grew up here.”
Mia pointed at her drawing.
“You too big.”
Elena laughed unexpectedly.
Luca looked offended.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Little door.”
Luca’s amusement vanished.
“What little door?”
Mia crawled under a side table.
“Like this.”
Elena watched.
“When were you crawling around the wine cellar?”
Mia emerged.
“When Mommy said stay.”
Luca remembered the cabinetry near the back wall.
It had been installed during his father’s renovation twenty years earlier.
A child-sized opening could easily go unnoticed behind it.
Ten minutes later, Luca and Marco were downstairs.
Mia’s drawing had been surprisingly accurate.
Behind a row of wine racks stood decorative wood paneling.
Near the floor was an air vent.
Marco removed the grille.
Behind it was open space.
“Service tunnel,” he said.
“Old?”
“Looks original.”
Luca crouched.
The opening was narrow but extended several feet before widening.
Marco shone a flashlight.
Footprints marked the dust.
Adult footprints.
“Someone’s using it.”
They followed the passage.
It ended behind a movable shelf in an old records room adjacent to the west office corridor.
Luca stepped through.
He knew the room.
It had supposedly been unused for years.
But the dust told a different story.
A chair had recently moved.
So had a filing cabinet.
Marco checked the drawer.
Empty.
Luca looked at the floor.
A yellow crayon lay beneath the cabinet.
Mia.
She had been here.
He picked it up.
“She followed them.”
Marco frowned.
“Who?”
Luca did not answer.
He examined the wall.
Scratches near a picture frame.
Behind it, a small combination safe.
“Did you know about this?”
“No.”
“Neither did I.”
Marco examined the lock.
“New.”
“How new?”
“Few years, maybe less.”
“Can you open it?”
“With tools.”
“Do it.”
While Marco worked, Luca returned upstairs.
Elena was furious before he finished explaining.
“She crawled through a tunnel?”
“Yes.”
“She could have been hurt.”
“She wasn’t.”
“That is not the point.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying you know.”
“Because I do.”
“No, you understand facts. That’s different.”
Luca went silent.
Elena paced.
“Mia thinks this is a game. She thinks she gets to sit in your chair and draw pictures while adults listen.”
Luca looked at the child playing with her rabbit.
“I envy her.”
Elena stopped.
“So do I.”
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Luca placed the yellow crayon on the table.
Mia saw it.
“Mine!”
“I found it downstairs.”
Her expression changed.
“Secret room.”
“What did you see there?”
Elena started to object.
Mia answered first.
“Yellow lady put papers in the wall.”
“Anything else?”
“Shiny man said Daddy.”
Elena sat slowly.
“What exactly did he say?”
Mia frowned, trying to remember.
“Daddy knew numbers.”
Luca exchanged a look with Elena.
Then Mia added, “He said Daddy should be quiet.”
Elena covered her mouth.
Luca crouched beside Mia.
“Did he say anything else?”
“Yellow lady said too late.”
The words were simple.
Their meaning was not.
Luca stood.
His phone rang.
Marco.
“The safe is open.”
“What’s inside?”
A pause.
“You should come down.”
Luca went immediately.
Inside the safe were no ledgers.
No cash.
No contracts.
Only three objects.
A USB drive.
A photograph of Thomas Bennett.
And a copy of Elena’s employment application to the Moretti estate.
Across the application, someone had written a sentence in black ink.
KEEP HER CLOSE UNTIL WE KNOW WHAT SHE HAS.
Luca read it twice.
Elena had not found the Moretti estate by chance.
Someone had approved her hiring because she was Thomas Bennett’s widow.
Someone had been watching her from the day she arrived.
May you like
And Luca had unknowingly allowed it to happen beneath his own roof.
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