Chapter 6 - THE PIANO WITH TWO DEAD KEYS
Carmine survived the night.
The doctors restored his heartbeat, but they warned Vincent that another crisis could kill him.
Norah barely heard the explanation.
Her mind was fixed on the St. Jude.
At dawn, Vincent drove her into the city in an armored SUV. Two men followed in a second vehicle, and every few minutes Vincent checked the rearview mirror.
"You could still change your mind," he said.
"About what?"
"About finding out who your father is."
Norah looked out the window.
"I spent eight years believing my mother died because she worked herself to death. Now I find out she was hiding from a murderer, and the people who might have protected her are the same people who destroyed her life."
She turned toward him.
"I'm not changing my mind."
The St. Jude lobby was nearly empty when they arrived.
The piano stood beneath the dim chandelier, its polished surface reflecting the gray morning light.
Norah sat on the bench.
She pressed the middle E.
It sounded dull and hollow.
Then she struck the G-sharp.
Another wooden thud.
Vincent watched her.
"How do we get inside the piano?"
"Carefully."
She opened the fallboard and examined the instrument. The damaged keys were connected to a worn section of the action mechanism. Nothing looked unusual until she noticed a tiny brass screw that didn't match the others.
She removed it.
A narrow panel shifted beneath the keyboard.
Inside was a folded sheet of music.
Norah's hands began to tremble.
The paper was covered in notes, but the margins contained columns of numbers and initials.
It was a ledger disguised as a musical score.
Vincent leaned over her shoulder.
"These are shipping manifests."
"Can you read them?"
"Some of them."
He pointed to a series of dates.
"These containers were declared empty. But someone collected payments for every one."
"Payments from whom?"
Vincent followed the columns.
His expression darkened.
"Political donors. Shipping executives. Two judges. A federal prosecutor."
Norah swallowed.
"This could destroy your family."
"It could destroy half the city."
A small envelope had been taped to the underside of the panel.
Norah peeled it away.
Inside was a note written in her mother's handwriting.
My darling girl, if you've found this, then I wasn't able to tell you the truth myself. The melody is not a key to a treasure. It is a map of the people who betrayed us.
Beneath the message was a single line.
Never trust the man who knows your favorite song.
Norah read it twice.
Vincent frowned.
"Did your mother ever tell you who taught her to play?"
"Her father. She said he was a musician."
"Did he have a name?"
"She called him Papa Joe."
Vincent went still.
"What?"
"My grandfather. Joseph Hale."
Vincent slowly straightened.
"Joseph Hale wasn't a musician."
"What was he?"
"He was my father's accountant. The man who supposedly died in the warehouse fire."
Norah felt the blood drain from her face.
"My grandfather was one of the thirty men?"
"According to the records, yes."
She looked at the score again.
A series of notes had been circled in red.
The pattern matched the melody she had played at the estate.
Each musical phrase corresponded to a date, a shipping container, and a set of initials.
At the bottom of the page, her mother had written a final name.
D.C.
Daniel Cross.
A noise came from the entrance.
Vincent turned, hand moving toward his gun.
A man in a hotel uniform approached them.
"Miss Hale?"
Norah recognized him as the night manager.
He placed a small package on the piano.
"This was delivered for you."
"By whom?"
"He wouldn't give his name."
Vincent opened the package with a pocketknife.
Inside lay a silver locket, identical to the one Norah had found at the estate.
But this one contained a different photograph.
It showed Daniel standing beside Evelyn, holding a newborn baby.
On the back, a message had been written in black ink.
YOUR MOTHER DIDN'T DIE OF PNEUMONIA. SHE DIED BECAUSE SHE REFUSED TO TELL ME WHERE THE LAST PAGE WAS.
Vincent looked toward the glass entrance.
A black sedan had stopped outside.
Daniel Cross stepped out.
He was wearing a fresh suit and carrying a white envelope.
He looked directly at Norah through the window.
Then he raised his hand and tapped his wristwatch.
Three taps.
One for each remaining hour, perhaps.
Or one for each person he intended to kill.
Vincent drew his weapon.
"Stay behind me."
Daniel smiled through the glass.
Then he held up the envelope.
Norah could read the words written across it.
THE ORIGINAL DEATH CERTIFICATE.
Her mother's name was printed beneath them.
And the date of death was eight years earlier.
May you like
The signature at the bottom belonged to Vincent Marino.
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