Chapter 6 - Marco’s Last Witness

The federal annex was nearly empty.

Old building.

Fluorescent lights.

No guests.

No roses.

Samuel Reed placed the ledger on a metal table.

He did not touch it again.

Nicolas watched him.

“You knew about the greenhouse.”

Samuel nodded.

“You knew my mother was alive.”

“Yes.”

Nicolas stood.

Diana looked at Samuel.

“You told me Marco never contacted you.”

“He did not after your funeral.”

“Before?”

“Yes.”

Diana’s face hardened.

Samuel sighed.

“I was a prosecutor. Marco approached me.”

“With evidence?”

“With suspicion.”

“Why did nothing happen?”

“Because every time we got close, a witness disappeared.”

Henri looked away.

Samuel noticed.

“You helped with some of that.”

Henri nodded.

“Yes.”

Celeste stared at her father.

Samuel continued.

“Marco realized Victor was using both families.”

Nicolas looked at the black folder.

“So why did my father keep working with him?”

“Because leaving would expose you.”

Nicolas laughed bitterly.

“Everyone keeps coming back to that.”

Samuel looked at him.

“Because it was true.”

Nicolas did not answer.

Samuel inserted the FINAL tape into an evidence player.

Marco’s voice filled the room.

“Nico.”

Nicolas stopped breathing.

“If you hear this, I am probably dead.”

Diana covered her face.

Marco continued.

“I am sorry for the life I gave you.”

Nicolas looked down.

“I told myself money could build walls high enough to keep danger out.”

A pause.

“It only gave dangerous men something worth climbing.”

Henri closed his eyes.

Marco continued.

“Victor poisoned the accounts long before he poisoned people.”

Nicolas looked at Samuel.

The prosecutor nodded slowly.

Marco’s voice:

“I believe he arranged the warehouse fire.”

Diana whispered:

“He did.”

“He also arranged Diana’s surveillance.”

Another pause.

“And if I die suddenly, test for digitalis.”

Samuel’s face changed.

Nicolas stared.

“My father knew.”

The tape continued.

“Victor has access to my medication.”

Diana looked at Nicolas.

“He had a heart condition.”

Nicolas nodded.

Marco:

“If the death is called cardiac failure, do not accept it.”

Silence.

Then:

“Henri is guilty of many things.”

Henri looked at the speaker.

“But I do not believe he will kill me.”

Henri’s eyes filled.

Celeste saw it.

Marco continued.

“He is a coward when it comes to prison.”

Henri laughed once through his tears.

Even Diana almost smiled.

“But Victor is different.”

The tape crackled.

“He wants inheritance, ports, and control.”

Nicolas’s hands tightened.

“If I die, Victor will become chairman.”

Exactly what happened.

“He will eventually try to merge the Armand and Moretti holdings.”

Celeste stared at the table.

“He will use our children if necessary.”

Diana’s eyes moved to Celeste.

Marco knew.

Seventeen years earlier.

“He believes marriage can turn blood into paperwork.”

Nicolas looked at Celeste.

Neither spoke.

Marco’s final words came softly.

“Nico, if you ever find this, burn the deal.”

The tape ended.

No one moved.

Samuel took a breath.

“We need your father’s remains.”

Nicolas looked at Edwin.

“To test for digitalis.”

“Yes.”

“The family mausoleum.”

Samuel nodded.

Henri whispered:

“Victor will know.”

Samuel looked at him.

“He already knows.”

A federal agent entered.

“Mr. Reed.”

Samuel turned.

The agent handed him a phone.

Security footage.

Victor Moretti.

Leaving his lake house.

Twenty minutes earlier.

Samuel frowned.

“He is running.”

Nicolas stood.

“Where?”

The agent shook his head.

“Unknown.”

Diana looked at Henri.

Henri’s face changed.

“What?”

She stared at him.

“You know.”

Henri swallowed.

Nicolas stepped closer.

“Where would he go?”

Henri looked at Celeste.

Then at Nicolas.

“Armand House.”

Celeste went pale.

“Why?”

Henri’s voice became quieter.

“Because there is another copy of the accounts.”

Diana stared.

“You kept one?”

“Yes.”

Nicolas laughed bitterly.

“Of course.”

Henri looked at him.

“I was afraid Victor would kill me.”

“Did you ever consider telling the truth?”

“For forty years.”

“And?”

Henri looked exhausted.

“I always decided tomorrow was safer.”

Celeste stood.

“Where is the copy?”

Henri did not answer.

She looked at him.

“Dad.”

“In your mother’s room.”

Celeste stopped.

“My mother has been dead twelve years.”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Behind her portrait.”

Celeste closed her eyes.

Nicolas looked at Samuel.

Victor was headed for Armand House.

For evidence.

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And maybe for the last person who could still identify every account.

Henri.