Chapter 3 - The Expert Who Was Paid to Lie
Dr. Cassandra Wren had spent three weeks examining the letter.
She'd charged Gabriel Moretti seventy-five thousand dollars for her translation.
And she'd deliberately concealed the only information he actually needed.
I stood beside the table while Gabriel questioned her.
"Who hired you?"
Cassandra lifted her chin.
"Your legal office."
"Who recommended you?"
She hesitated.
Then looked toward Silvio.
My stomach tightened.
Gabriel followed her gaze.
"Silvio?"
His oldest adviser forced a smile.
"She's one of the country's leading manuscript experts."
Gabriel didn't smile.
"That wasn't my question."
Silvio shifted in his chair.
"I recommended her."
"Why?"
"Because you wanted answers."
Gabriel leaned forward.
"Then why didn't she give them to me?"
Silence.
Cassandra finally spoke.
"Because some historical documents contain misleading claims."
I shook my head.
"Then explain the claims. Don't erase them."
She glared at me.
"You don't understand the consequences."
"Apparently, neither do you."
Gabriel raised one hand.
Both of us stopped.
He looked toward his attorney, Thomas Reed.
"Have the original document preserved. Arrange an independent translation."
Thomas nodded.
Then Gabriel turned toward Cassandra.
"Your work will be reviewed. If anyone pressured you to conceal information, this is your opportunity to say so."
For the first time, her confidence vanished.
She looked toward Silvio.
Then whispered:
"My family was threatened."
I felt cold.
Gabriel's expression changed.
"By whom?"
Cassandra shook her head.
"I can't say."
Silvio leaned forward.
"Gabriel, this is becoming absurd."
Gabriel looked at him.
"Then perhaps you'll explain why you were exchanging messages with Dr. Wren before she was officially appointed."
Silvio went still.
Thomas placed a tablet on the table.
The screen showed a series of billing records.
Cassandra had received a consulting payment from a company called Harbor Legacy Management.
The payment arrived four days before Gabriel hired her.
And Harbor Legacy had a hidden ownership connection to Silvio Romano.
My heart raced.
Gabriel stared at his adviser.
"Explain."
Silvio's smile disappeared.
"I was arranging preliminary research."
"Then why didn't you disclose it?"
Silence.
Gabriel slowly stood.
For a moment, the entire room seemed to hold its breath.
I remembered the stories I'd heard about him.
Men who crossed Gabriel Moretti supposedly vanished.
Businesses collapsed.
Enemies fled Boston.
But he didn't shout.
He turned toward Thomas.
"Preserve the records. I want an independent review of every financial transaction connected to this letter."
Then he looked at me.
"Mara, there's something I need to ask."
I swallowed.
"What?"
"Did your grandfather leave you any documents?"
I thought about the boxes in my apartment.
Old books.
Photographs.
A wooden writing desk I couldn't bring myself to sell.
"Maybe."
Gabriel studied me.
"Anything unusual?"
I hesitated.
Then remembered something.
Before Grandpa died, he'd given me a brass key.
Small.
Heavy.
Shaped like a wolf's head.
He told me it belonged to a cabinet that had been lost years earlier.
I kept it on a chain inside my jewelry box.
"There's a key," I whispered.
Gabriel went completely still.
"What kind?"
"A brass key with a wolf engraved on it."
He closed his eyes.
Then slowly opened a drawer beneath the table.
Inside was a photograph of an antique iron chest.
On the front was a wolf-shaped lock.
Gabriel looked at me.
"Mara, that chest has been sealed for twenty-three years."
I stared at the image.
Then he revealed the final secret.
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"The last person who tried to open it was found dead three days later."
And that person had been my grandfather.
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