The Hand Across the Table

At dawn, Miriam’s house became a command center.

Elena’s team covered the windows and rotated guards. Dev arrived with copies of the encrypted drive. Matteo made calls in the garden, always far enough away that Natasha could not hear.

That annoyed her.

She walked outside.

He ended the call immediately.

“Who was that?”

“My attorney.”

“About?”

“Luca.”

“Why?”

“Because Richard’s message suggests the version of his death I accepted may be false.”

“Accepted from whom?”

Matteo looked toward the sunrise.

“My father.”

Natasha folded her arms.

“Start talking.”

He rubbed a hand over the scar in his eyebrow.

“Luca was killed twelve years ago in a warehouse near the port. We found his body and one survivor, a man named Enzo Bell.”

“The man you killed?”

“Yes.”

“He said Vittorio ordered it?”

“He said Castellano money paid for it.”

“That is not the same thing.”

“No.”

“Did you ask who authorized the money?”

“I was thirty-six and holding my brother’s blood on my hands.”

“That is not an answer.”

“It is the reason I did not ask enough questions.”

Natasha felt anger rise, not only at him but at the entire machinery around powerful men who treated consequences like private weather.

“You killed Enzo before he could testify.”

“Yes.”

“So if he knew the truth, you destroyed it.”

“Yes.”

Matteo did not look away.

The honesty irritated her because it gave her nowhere easy to put him.

“Could your father have ordered Luca’s death?”

His jaw clenched.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Luca wanted to dismantle the port operation. He had started cooperating with Adrian.”

Natasha stared.

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“I did not know until your father’s video.”

“Your brother and my father were working together?”

“It appears so.”

“Then the folder labeled ROSSI may not be evidence against Luca.”

“It may be evidence from him.”

They went back inside.

Dev opened the folder.

Most files were bank statements, shell-company ledgers, and scanned invoices. Then he found a compressed archive labeled L.R.

Password protected.

Natasha said, “Try B4.17.Blue.”

It opened.

Matteo sat down hard.

Inside were photographs.

Luca Rossi and Adrian Voss meeting in parking garages, coffee shops, a church basement.

Then audio files.

Dev played the earliest.

Luca’s voice filled the room.

“If my father finds out I copied these accounts, I’m dead.”

Matteo shut his eyes.

Adrian answered, “Then we move fast.”

Luca said, “Vittorio wants out too.”

Matteo’s eyes opened.

Natasha leaned closer.

“Vittorio Castellano?”

“Yes,” Adrian said on the recording. “He’s frightened of Salvatore.”

Matteo stood.

“My father.”

The room went silent.

The next recording was worse.

Luca: “Salvatore and Deputy Chief Castellano built the hospital scheme together. Vittorio was the public face, but he stopped controlling it years ago.”

Adrian: “And Richard?”

Luca: “Richard likes it.”

Natasha’s skin went cold.

Adrian: “He’s twenty-nine.”

Luca: “He’s already worse than his father.”

The audio ended.

Matteo walked out of the room.

Natasha found him by Miriam’s lemon tree.

He had both hands braced on the wooden fence.

“I spent twelve years hating the wrong family,” he said.

“Not entirely wrong.”

“No.”

“Vittorio still participated.”

“Yes.”

“But your father may have ordered Luca killed.”

“Yes.”

She stood beside him.

“You don’t have to make that word sound like punishment.”

“What word?”

“Yes.”

“You keep saying it like each one is a door closing.”

He looked at her.

“My father is eighty-one. He lives in Sicily.”

“Convenient.”

“He retired when Luca died.”

“Also convenient.”

Matteo almost laughed, but grief stopped him.

Natasha said, “Are you going to protect him?”

“No.”

The answer came quietly.

“That is what you want me to believe.”

“No. It is what I need to prove.”

They returned inside.

Elena had news.

“Castellano Tower opens at eight. Public lobby, private offices above. Bay B4 sits behind a decorative stone wall near the old elevator display.”

“Cameras?” Natasha asked.

“Many.”

“Security?”

“Private contract owned by Castellano Medical Holdings.”

Matteo said, “We can enter legally.”

“How?”

“There is a café in the lobby.”

“That gets us ten feet inside.”

“Sometimes ten feet is enough.”

Natasha studied the drawings.

“Bay B4 is behind an exhibit about the building’s history. If my father hid something in the masonry before the renovation, it might still be there.”

Elena said, “We need a reason to inspect the wall.”

Miriam smiled.

Everyone looked at her.

“What?”

“You people think crime is the only way into buildings.”

She tapped the preservation seal on the drawing.

“Historic masonry can be inspected by the city preservation board upon credible evidence of unauthorized alteration.”

Natasha smiled slowly.

“Miriam, are you still on the advisory committee?”

“Emeritus.”

“Can emeritus members request emergency review?”

Miriam lifted her coffee.

“With the right photograph.”

Natasha looked at the torn music box lid.

A plan formed.

An hour later, she photographed the blueprint, the handwritten note, and the visible discrepancy between archived wall dimensions and current public plans.

Miriam sent three emails.

At 8:42 a.m., the city called.

At 9:15, an inspector agreed to meet them.

At 9:31, Richard called Natasha.

She answered on speaker.

His voice was soft.

“Come home.”

“No.”

“I know you’re frightened.”

“I’m not frightened of the truth.”

“You should be.”

“Why?”