Chapter 5 - The Gate Log
The dining room doors swung open again, wider this time.
Mrs. Hargrove stepped inside, flanked by two of Leo’s security guards. Her face was no longer composed; it was pale, rigid, and sweating despite the cool morning air.
"Mr. Moretti," Hargrove said, her voice shaking slightly. "I demand to know what these men are doing in my office. They seized my personal files!"
I walked away from the table, turning my back on Vincent and Vivien, and stopped three feet in front of the head housekeeper.
"Your office was used to transmit stolen federal data at two in the morning, Hargrove," I said quietly. "And someone in this house tried to poison a sick maid to keep her from waking up and seeing who was using the service wing."
Hargrove recoiled as if I had struck her. "I know nothing about data! I am the housekeeper! I manage the staff!"
"You manage the staff," I agreed. "And you sign for packages delivered through the south gate at midnight. Let’s look at the gate logs."
Leo stepped forward, opening his leather folio and pulling out a printed digital timestamp sheet.
"South Gate Log, 11:58 PM last night," Leo read aloud. "Vehicle: Black Lincoln Town Car. Driver: Unidentified male wearing a courier uniform. Recipient signature on file: Martha Hargrove."
Hargrove’s knees buckled slightly, but she caught herself against the edge of a sideboard. "A... a laundry delivery! It was industrial bleach for the commercial washers!"
"Industrial bleach delivered in a sealed manila envelope containing a thumb drive and a vial of digitalis?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "That’s a very aggressive detergent, Hargrove."
"She didn't know what was in the envelope, Alessandro," Vincent spoke up smoothly, rising from his chair and adjusting his suit jacket. "The girl is a loyal employee of this estate. She signs for dozens of packages a week. You’re harassing an elderly woman because you’re paranoid about a routine federal audit."
I turned slowly to face Vincent. "You speak very comfortably for my staff, Vincent. Almost as if you knew what was in the package before it arrived."
Vincent’s jaw tightened. "I am the chief financial officer of Apex Maritime. I speak for the efficiency of this entire operation."
"You speak for yourself," I said, taking two steps toward him until I was towering over him. "Leo, take Hargrove down to the security basement. Interrogate her until she tells me which New York account wired forty thousand dollars into her offshore Swiss bank yesterday morning."
Hargrove let out a choked cry as Leo’s guards grabbed her arms and hoisted her up. "Mr. Moretti, please! I only held the package! Mr. Rossi said it was estate documents! He said nothing would happen to the maid!"
The name dropped like a lead weight onto the polished floor.
Mr. Rossi.
Vivien went completely white, her hands gripping the edge of the table so hard her knuckles turned translucent. "Hargrove, you lying old bint—"
"Shut up, Vivien," I said without raising my voice.
The three words carried more raw violence than a gunshot. Vivien froze, her mouth open, staring at me as if she were seeing a stranger.
Vincent didn't run. Men of our class didn't run—not until all other options were exhausted. He smoothed his tie, his dark eyes narrowing into cold slits.
May you like
"It seems," Vincent said smoothly, "we have a failure of internal communication. Hargrove is clearly unhinged. I suggest we handle this quietly, Alessandro. In the study. Like family."
"We are not family, Vincent," I said, drawing the Sig Sauer from my shoulder holster and leveling the barrel directly at the bridge of his nose. "And you are never going back to New York."
