Chapter 7 - What Matteo Vale Hid With the Dead

The Vale mausoleum stood behind the mansion chapel.

Victor had built it.

That felt different now.

Everything did.

The iron gate was locked.

Alessandro broke the old chain with a maintenance cutter.

Nobody tried to stop him.

Inside were four marble crypts.

His grandparents.

An aunt.

His father.

MATTEO VALE.

1958–2021.

Alessandro stood in front of it.

Five years of grief.

Nineteen years of anger.

All pointing at the same stone.

Isabella touched the name.

“I never saw his grave.”

Alessandro looked at her.

“You knew he died.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t come.”

“I came to the cemetery.”

He stared.

“When?”

“The day after the funeral.”

“You were here?”

“Outside the wall.”

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

She looked down.

“Victor had twelve security men.”

Alessandro laughed once.

Bitter.

“Of course he did.”

Henry examined the marble.

“If Matteo hid something here, it would need to be reachable.”

Thomas looked at the base.

“Matteo hated permanent things.”

Rosalie frowned.

“What?”

“He used to say anything valuable should have a second door.”

Alessandro knelt.

At the lower right corner was a small brass plate.

Decorative.

Except one screw was newer than the others.

He removed it.

Behind the plate was a narrow cavity.

Inside:

A cassette recorder.

An envelope.

A small ledger.

And a photograph.

Alessandro lifted the photograph first.

Matteo.

Isabella.

Alessandro at age six.

All three laughing in a garden.

On the back:

THE LAST DAY BEFORE VICTOR BEGAN KEEPING SCORE.

Alessandro stared.

“I don’t remember this.”

Isabella smiled through tears.

“You hated the fountain.”

“Why?”

“You fell in it.”

He almost smiled.

Then the moment passed.

Rosalie handed him the cassette.

“Can we play it?”

Henry had an old portable recorder in his camera bag.

Nobody asked why.

It was Henry.

He carried everything.

The tape clicked.

Static.

Then Matteo’s voice.

Older.

Tired.

“If Alessandro is hearing this, then I failed to tell him myself.”

Alessandro stopped breathing.

The tape continued.

“Victor did not steal from the Vale family because he needed money. He stole because money made people dependent.”

Isabella closed her eyes.

“He made me sign documents after threatening Alessandro. Thomas Quinn forged others. Bernard Lane helped cover one night I will never forgive myself for allowing.”

Alessandro stared at the recorder.

“I told my son his mother abandoned us.”

His voice on the tape broke.

“That lie kept her alive. It also destroyed him. I do not know which fact condemns me more.”

Alessandro looked away.

Rosalie began crying silently.

Matteo continued.

“Five years ago, I discovered Victor had begun using VQ Holdings to move money again. This time, he is preparing to take Alessandro’s companies.”

Thomas closed his eyes.

The tape continued.

“If anything happens to me, it was not my heart.”

Silence.

Then a date.

Three days before Matteo’s death.

Isabella whispered:

“Oh, Matteo.”

The tape clicked again.

“There is one account Victor cannot explain. Meridian Trust. Zurich. Account ending 7719.”

Rosalie looked at the ledger.

Found it.

Forty-three million dollars.

Current value.

Alessandro’s eyes narrowed.

Matteo continued.

“The beneficiary is not Victor.”

Everyone froze.

“It is Alessandro.”

Thomas looked shocked.

The tape continued.

“Victor has spent nineteen years moving money in circles, but he could never legally remove the original beneficiary without Alessandro’s signature.”

Rosalie whispered:

“That’s why he wanted the psychiatric file.”

Alessandro nodded slowly.

To declare him incompetent.

To seize control.

The tape continued.

“If Victor cannot control my son, he will try to discredit him.”

Then:

“And if Isabella ever returns, tell her I am sorry I did not reach Prague.”

Isabella covered her face.

Matteo’s voice softened.

“I waited too long to become brave.”

The tape ended.

Nobody moved.

Then headlights appeared through the chapel windows.

Three cars.

Black.

Thomas whispered:

“Victor.”

Alessandro picked up the ledger.

Henry grabbed the cassette.

Rosalie took Isabella’s hand.

I looked toward the side door.

“Kitchen path.”

Alessandro turned.

“What?”

“The chapel kitchen connects to the garden wall.”

He looked at me.

“How do you know that?”

“I work here.”

For the first time that night, he smiled.

“Lead.”

We moved.

But when I opened the side door, a man was already standing there.

Victor’s driver.

No mask.

He held Thomas’s missing flash drive.

And behind him stood Victor Vale.

Victor looked at Alessandro.

“You found Matteo’s little confession.”

Alessandro held the ledger.

“Yes.”

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Victor smiled.

“Then you also know why I cannot let you leave with it.”