Chapter 4 - THE DOCTOR WHO RAN
Dr. Adrian Vale was found before Vincent.
Not in Montréal.
In a motel outside Milwaukee.
Alive.
Terrified.
He surrendered when police entered.
Not Moretti men.
Police.
That detail mattered because Luca had finally listened to Gabriel.
No private execution.
No basement interrogation.
At least not yet.
Vale requested an attorney immediately.
Then asked whether Gabriel survived.
When told yes, he started crying.
Luca and I watched part of the formal interview through Gabriel’s attorney after appropriate permission.
Vale looked twenty years older than his photograph.
“I didn’t know what Vincent planned.”
The investigator asked:
“You operated on Mr. Moretti.”
“Yes.”
“How many procedures?”
Vale closed his eyes.
“Two.”
There it was.
“What was the second?”
“I was told it was a diagnostic implant.”
“For what diagnosis?”
“No legitimate one.”
The investigator stared.
“Explain.”
Vale said Vincent brought a biomedical technician into the private clinic after the shoulder procedure.
Gabriel was still sedated.
Vale objected.
Vincent produced paperwork.
Consent.
Signed.
Medical proxy authorization.
Signed.
A research-use agreement.
Signed.
All allegedly by Gabriel.
Vale believed the signatures looked wrong.
But Vincent threatened him.
Not with death.
With exposure.
Vale had been treating patients outside approved clinic procedures for cash.
Professional misconduct.
Enough to destroy his career.
So he allowed the second procedure.
Cowardice.
Not innocence.
“What was the purpose of the device?”
Vale shook his head.
“I was told monitoring.”
“Monitoring what?”
“I don’t know.”
“You cut near the spine without understanding why?”
Vale started crying.
“I made the incision. The technician placed it.”
“Who was the technician?”
“I never got his real name.”
“Who arranged him?”
“Vincent.”
“And the infection?”
Vale’s voice broke.
“The sterility was poor.”
My stomach turned.
He knew.
“Why didn’t you send Gabriel to a hospital?”
“I tried.”
“What happened?”
“Vincent took over.”
Vale admitted the fever began four days after the surgery.
He recommended hospital transfer.
Vincent refused.
Then Gabriel became increasingly confused.
Vale returned once.
That was when Gabriel partially woke and heard them arguing.
Vale slipped the handwritten warning into his shirt.
So Gabriel’s note saying VALE TRIED TO WARN ME was not written by Gabriel.
It had been Vale.
I felt stupid for assuming handwriting similarities meant authorship.
Another lesson.
Evidence before story.
Then the investigator asked:
“Why alter the records?”
Vale stared.
“I didn’t.”
“Your credentials were used.”
“Vincent had access after he demanded the chart.”
Luca and I exchanged a look.
Device ID VM-07.
Then came the question that changed the entire direction.
“Why did Vincent want Mr. Moretti medically incapacitated?”
Vale swallowed.
“He said Gabriel was about to destroy the family.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he say anything else?”
Vale nodded.
“One thing.”
“What?”
“He said Gabriel had signed something that would become irreversible on October first.”
Luca’s face changed.
“What is October first?”
I asked.
“Today.”
It was just after four in the morning.
October 1.
The date had arrived.
Luca immediately called Gabriel’s attorney.
Ten minutes later, we had an answer.
At 9:00 a.m., a legal restructuring was scheduled to become effective.
Gabriel had spent the past year separating the legitimate Moretti businesses from the criminal organization.
At nine that morning, controlling shares in the clean companies would transfer into a protected trust.
Beneficiaries:
Employees.
Several charitable foundations.
And one unnamed individual.
Vincent would lose access permanently.
I asked:
“Who’s the unnamed beneficiary?”
Luca stared at the document.
Then at me.
“You.”
I laughed.
“That’s impossible.”
He turned the page.
Name:
ELENA HART.
My full legal name.
May you like
I stopped breathing.
Gabriel Moretti had put me in a trust months before I ever entered his penthouse.
