Chapter 8 - The Tape That Named the Last Thief

Marco asked Harold to play the first cassette.

They returned to the mansion that night.

Everyone gathered around the grandfather clock.

Marco attended by video call from the rehabilitation estate.

The first tape clicked.

Giovanni Moretti’s voice.

Damian recognized his grandfather immediately.

“Conrad wants the warehouse burned.”

Another voice.

Marco.

“You said no one would be inside.”

Giovanni answered:

“They shouldn’t be.”

Tape stopped.

Damian looked at Conrad.

The old man said nothing.

Second tape.

Conrad’s voice.

“The deeds disappear, the insurance pays, and the families stop asking questions.”

Then Giovanni:

“And Lucia?”

Conrad replied:

“If she found the books, she becomes the next problem.”

Lucia closed her eyes.

Damian’s face went cold.

Third tape.

A different voice.

Isabella’s father.

Much younger.

“Enough.”

Everyone turned toward him.

The tape continued.

“I won’t help you threaten her.”

Conrad answered:

“You already helped us move the accounts.”

“I was twenty-four.”

“So?”

“I’m done.”

The tape clicked off.

Isabella stared at her father.

“You knew then.”

He nodded.

“Yes.”

“You said you learned later.”

“I lied.”

She closed her eyes.

Damian looked at him.

“Why?”

“Because I had signed transfers.”

“Because you were guilty too.”

“Yes.”

Harold opened the metal box again.

One final envelope.

Bank records.

Damian scanned them.

Then stopped.

A name appeared.

Not Moretti.

Not Voss.

HAROLD QUINN.

Damian looked at the clockmaker.

The room changed.

Harold did not move.

Damian held up the statement.

“Your name.”

Harold sighed.

“Yes.”

Lucia stared.

“You too?”

Harold nodded.

“I built the hidden compartments.”

“That’s not what this says.”

Damian pointed to the transfer.

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

Harold looked at him.

“Payment.”

“For what?”

“For changing the clock records.”

Silence.

Damian stared.

“What records?”

“The maintenance log.”

“Why?”

“Because the clock proved who entered the ballroom on the night your mother disappeared.”

Damian froze.

“And who did?”

Harold looked toward Isabella’s grandfather.

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Then toward Damian’s family portrait.

“Giovanni.”