Chapter 3 - The Surgeon’s Second File

Dr. Grant sat down.

For the first time since entering the gala, he looked afraid.

Marco stood beside the bed.

Vanessa stood near the door.

Robert did not move.

Daniel watched all of them.

Marco said:

“Tell us.”

Grant looked at Vanessa.

“Your mother came to me ten years ago.”

Vanessa stared.

“For cancer?”

“At first.”

“What do you mean?”

“She had early-stage lymphoma.”

“Treatable?”

“Yes.”

Robert closed his eyes.

Vanessa looked at him.

“You told me it was aggressive.”

“It became aggressive.”

Grant interrupted.

“No.”

Silence.

Robert turned.

Grant continued.

“She was responding.”

Vanessa stopped breathing.

Marco looked between them.

“What happened?”

Grant rubbed his hands together.

“She asked me to copy her medical files.”

“Why?”

“She believed someone was changing records.”

Robert whispered:

“Samuel.”

Grant looked at him.

“You knew too.”

“I suspected.”

Vanessa stared at her father.

“Suspected what?”

Robert looked at his daughter.

“That someone was increasing her medication.”

“What medication?”

Grant answered.

“Immunosuppressants.”

Marco frowned.

“Enough to make the cancer worse?”

Grant nodded.

“Yes.”

Vanessa’s face went white.

“Who prescribed them?”

Grant looked at Robert.

Robert whispered:

“Not me.”

Marco’s voice sharpened.

“Who?”

Grant opened his medical bag.

Another file.

Old.

Vanessa’s mother.

ELENA BELL.

Medication authorization.

Signature:

DR. PETER RINALDI.

Marco stared.

“My uncle’s son?”

Daniel’s face changed.

“No.”

Marco looked at him.

“You know him.”

Daniel nodded.

“Peter was my brother’s private physician.”

“And family.”

“Yes.”

Vanessa whispered:

“He treated my mother.”

Grant nodded.

“He changed her prescriptions.”

Robert sat down.

Vanessa looked at him with disgust.

“You knew Peter worked for Marco’s uncle.”

“Yes.”

“And still let him near Mom.”

“I didn’t know what he was doing.”

Vanessa cried.

“You keep saying that.”

Robert looked broken.

Marco asked Grant:

“Did Peter kill her?”

Grant answered carefully.

“I can prove he altered the medication.”

“Can you prove intent?”

“No.”

Daniel looked at Marco.

“But I can.”

Everyone turned.

Daniel reached toward the bedside drawer.

Inside was a small recorder.

Old.

Marco stared.

“You have recordings too.”

Daniel almost smiled.

“Your mother used to complain I recorded everything.”

Marco’s expression changed.

“My mother?”

Daniel froze.

Too late.

Marco stared.

“What about my mother?”

Daniel looked down.

Marco stepped closer.

“Dad.”

The word came out.

Everyone stopped.

Marco realized it too.

Daniel looked at him.

Marco did not correct it.

“What about my mother?”

Daniel’s eyes filled.

“Your mother knew I survived.”

Silence.

Marco stared.

“My mother died when I was nineteen.”

“Yes.”

“She knew you were alive for two years.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

Daniel looked toward Robert.

Robert whispered:

“Because I asked her not to.”

Marco turned slowly.

“You.”

Robert stood.

“Your uncle threatened both of you.”

Marco laughed bitterly.

“Everyone’s favorite explanation.”

Robert continued.

“He said if Daniel returned, Marco would be arrested for the accounts.”

Marco looked at Daniel.

“And Mom believed him.”

“Yes.”

“She chose silence.”

“Yes.”

Marco walked to the window.

Seventeen years.

His father.

His mother.

Vanessa.

Robert.

Grant.

Everyone holding one piece.

Then Daniel pressed play.

A woman’s voice.

Elena Bell.

Vanessa’s mother.

“I copied everything.”

Another voice.

Peter Rinaldi.

“You should have left it alone.”

Elena replied:

“You’re poisoning me.”

Silence.

Then Peter:

“You’re sick.”

“That makes this easy.”

Vanessa covered her mouth.

Robert looked sick.

Grant closed his eyes.

The recording continued.

Elena whispered:

“If I die, Samuel has the originals.”

Grant froze.

Everyone looked at him.

Marco stared.

“You have the originals.”

Grant did not answer.

Vanessa stepped closer.

“Do you?”

Grant finally nodded.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

He looked at Marco.

“Not here.”

Marco’s expression hardened.

“Then where?”

Grant whispered:

“In your father’s old clinic.”

Daniel’s face changed.

“That building was demolished.”

Grant shook his head.

“No.”

“The basement archive still exists.”

Marco stared.

“What is in it?”

Grant looked at Vanessa.

“Proof that her mother’s death was murder.”

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Then at Marco.

“And proof your uncle planned your father’s shooting months before it happened.”