Chapter 9 - THE DOCTOR WHO OWNED THE MAFIA
Dr. Samuel Keene had delivered Adrian at birth.
He had treated Damian’s broken arm.
Signed Victor’s death certificate.
Certified Evelyn’s body after the crash.
And apparently controlled the family from behind a medical coat.
Adrian looked furious.
I looked confused.
“How can a doctor run a criminal empire?”
Roman answered.
“By knowing every secret.”
Keene knew addictions.
Affairs.
DNA results.
Abortions.
Gunshot wounds.
Who had been poisoned.
Who had survived.
Who had died under false names.
He didn’t need to command men.
He owned the information that commanded them.
Damian paced.
“Victor trusted him.”
“Victor feared him,” Roman corrected.
Adrian looked at the message.
“He wants the ledger.”
“Yes.”
“We don’t have it.”
Damian’s expression shifted.
“I do.”
Everyone turned.
“You said the book was safe,” Adrian said.
“It is.”
“Where?”
Damian looked at me.
“At Black Orchid.”
I almost laughed.
“Of course.”
“Caroline hid it there eighteen years ago.”
“In a nightclub?”
“It used to be a private restaurant.”
Roman frowned.
“Victor owned it then.”
“Exactly. He never searched property he believed he controlled.”
Adrian looked at Damian.
“Where?”
“Behind the old piano.”
I remembered the stage.
The flickering spotlight.
The piano I had been told to stand beside.
My stomach turned.
“That’s why I was put onstage.”
Damian nodded.
“Keene needed you near the hiding place.”
“Why?”
“Because Caroline built a lock.”
“What kind?”
“Voice.”
Adrian frowned.
“Voice recognition twenty years ago?”
“Crude system. Phrase-based.”
“What phrase?”
Damian looked at me.
“No idea.”
We returned to Black Orchid.
The club was closed.
Adrian moved the old piano.
Behind a wall panel sat a small metal safe.
A microphone.
I stared.
“What do I say?”
Roman looked at me.
“Something Caroline taught you.”
I thought about childhood.
Bedtime.
Books.
Things she repeated.
Then I remembered.
Whenever I was scared, Caroline would kneel and say:
“Stories survive the people who try to silence them.”
I spoke it.
The safe clicked.
Inside sat Jane Eyre.
My book.
The one I thought had been stolen.
I picked it up.
A hollow section had been cut into the spine.
Inside were strips of microfilm.
And a letter.
For Lila.
My hands shook.
I opened it.
Sweetheart,
If you found this, then the Vale family finally found you too.
I wish I could tell you I was your mother.
I wasn’t.
But I loved you as if I had chosen you every day.
I started crying.
Adrian stood beside me.
Not touching.
Waiting.
I continued.
The ledger contains enough evidence to destroy Samuel Keene.
But there is one thing more dangerous than the ledger.
His real identity.
I frowned.
Caroline had written:
Samuel Keene is not Samuel Keene.
His real name is Stephen Vale.
Adrian went still.
Damian whispered:
“No.”
I looked at them.
“Who is Stephen Vale?”
Adrian’s face had gone pale.
“My father’s older brother.”
Roman stared.
“He died forty years ago.”
Damian looked at the letter.
“Apparently not.”
Then the club speakers turned on.
Keene’s voice filled the room.
“Very good, Lila.”
Everyone froze.
“You found it.”
Adrian looked toward the ceiling.
“Where are you?”
Keene laughed softly.
“Closer than you think.”
The lights went out.
May you like
A gunshot exploded.
And when emergency lights flickered back on, Damian was lying on the floor bleeding.
