Chapter 8 - THE MAN AT HIS OWN FUNERALMarco Moretti had supposedly died of a heart attack in July.
Luca had delivered the eulogy.
There had been a coffin.
Flowers.
Two hundred mourners.
Apparently, coffins were becoming unreliable evidence of death.
By noon, federal investigators had confirmed that Marco had used a private medical service connected to Bellini Holdings.
The death certificate was fraudulent.
Luca stared at the report.
“My family has a disturbing relationship with funerals.”
Viktor nodded.
“It saves on awkward conversations.”
Even Luca laughed.
But the humor disappeared quickly.
Marco had been Luca’s father’s younger brother.
He had also controlled Moretti Atlantic’s transportation division for twenty years.
If illegal money had moved through company accounts, Marco would have known.
Perhaps he had helped.
Luca called an emergency meeting at Moretti headquarters.
I assumed my role in the adventure was finished.
I was wrong.
“Come with me.”
“Why?”
“Because you work for me.”
“Apparently I don’t know what my job is anymore.”
“Neither do I.”
He handed me a temporary badge.
DIRECTOR — HOUSEHOLD & ESTATE OPERATIONS.
I stared at it.
“This seems excessive.”
“So was last night.”
At headquarters, Luca dismissed three executives before lunch.
Two had concealed payments connected to Marco.
One admitted destroying records.
By evening, the company’s attorneys had turned over everything to investigators.
Luca did something his father never had.
He chose the truth even though it might damage his own name.
That mattered.
At six, Vanessa arrived.
No makeup.
Jeans.
Sweater.
I barely recognized her.
“I need to speak to Luca.”
“He’s in a meeting.”
“I’ll wait.”
She sat beside my desk.
After several minutes, she looked at me.
“I owe you an apology too.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“That list is getting long.”
“I know.”
She looked embarrassed.
“I threatened your job.”
“Yes.”
“I spoke to you as though you were disposable.”
“Yes.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
“A little.”
She smiled.
Then became serious.
“I’m sorry.”
I studied her.
“Why were you so afraid of Viktor?”
Her expression changed.
“I had seen him before.”
My stomach tightened.
“Where?”
“At my father’s house.”
“When?”
“Two months ago.”
“What?”
“He didn’t see me.”
“Why was Viktor there?”
“I don’t know.”
I immediately called Luca.
Viktor was brought upstairs.
When Vanessa described the meeting, his face changed.
“That was not me.”
She stared at him.
“I saw you.”
“No.”
“You were wearing the same coat.”
Viktor looked at Luca.
“I have not seen Bellini in twenty-six years.”
Luca pulled up security footage from Vanessa’s father’s house.
There.
An elderly man entered.
Brown coat.
Wool cap.
He looked exactly like Viktor from behind.
Then he turned.
Not Viktor.
His face was similar.
Older.
Harder.
Viktor gripped the table.
“No.”
Luca looked at him.
“You know him.”
Viktor whispered:
“My brother.”
“Your brother?”
“Anton.”
“I thought you were an only child.”
“I told everyone that.”
“Why?”
Viktor stared at the image.
“Because Anton worked for your father.”
The room went silent.
“Doing what?”
Viktor’s voice dropped.
“Things your father did not want traced back to him.”
Luca leaned forward.
“Was Anton driving the sedan the night my mother died?”
Viktor looked at him.
“I don’t know.”
Then the office phone rang.
Emma at reception answered.
She looked toward Luca.
“It’s security.”
He took the call.
Listened.
His face hardened.
“Send him up.”
“Who?” I asked.
Luca slowly lowered the phone.
“Marco.”
Ten minutes later, the elevator opened.
The uncle Luca had buried walked into the office.
He looked thinner.
Older.
But alive.
Luca stood.
Marco smiled sadly.
“Hello, nephew.”
Luca did not return the greeting.
“You have five seconds to explain why I shouldn’t have you arrested.”
Marco nodded.
“Because I know who killed your mother.”
Luca’s jaw tightened.
“We already know.”
“No.”
Marco looked toward Viktor.
“You know who drove the car.”
He paused.
“But the person who ordered it is sitting much closer to you than you think.”
May you like
Then Marco turned toward me.
And pointed.
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