Chapter 5 - THE DEAD MAN’S ACCOUNT
At 11:42 p.m., Dominic stood in the security room with Marco, Rachel, and Evelyn. Antonio had been moved to a private hospital under a false name, with a doctor selected by the retired prosecutor. Vanessa remained under guard in a guest suite, though Dominic had ordered that she be treated as a witness, not a prisoner.
The account scheduled to log in at midnight belonged to Michael Moretti, who had died at six years old. Dominic had spent most of his childhood visiting the tiny grave in the family cemetery, carrying flowers his father never remembered to buy. The idea that someone had used Michael’s name to access the security system felt like a desecration.
“Can you trace the remote login?” Dominic asked.
Marco nodded. “It came from a terminal inside the mansion. We’ve isolated the network. If the account connects again, we’ll capture the location.”
At midnight, the system blinked.
A login request appeared.
Marco tracked it to the old records room beneath the east wing—the same room Antonio had warned them away from. Dominic took Rachel with him despite her objection. Evelyn stayed behind with the guards, and Marco led the way down a narrow staircase that smelled of damp stone.
The records room door stood open.
Inside, filing cabinets lined the walls. A single monitor glowed on a desk. Beside it sat a small cassette player and a stack of envelopes, each labeled in the same neat handwriting.
MICHAEL.
Dominic picked one up. The paper was old, but the envelope had been opened recently.
Inside was a child’s drawing: a house, three stick figures, and a fourth figure standing outside the fence. Beneath it, in an adult’s hand, someone had written: The family must remain complete.
Rachel looked at Dominic. “Who wrote that?”
“I don’t know.”
Marco checked the monitor. “The login isn’t coming from an outside computer. It’s running through a local script. Someone built a delayed access routine years ago.”
“Who had the skills?” Dominic asked.
“Your father. Kessler. Vale. Maybe someone in the old security team.”
Dominic opened the next envelope. It contained a photograph of Antonio holding a little boy. Michael was laughing, his face bright and unguarded. On the back was a date: three days before he died.
Dominic’s throat tightened. “There was an investigation after Michael’s accident. They said he wandered near the lake.”
“Did you believe that?” Rachel asked.
“I was a child. My father told me what happened. I believed him because I had to.”
A noise came from behind the filing cabinets.
Marco drew his weapon. Dominic pulled Rachel behind him and called out, “Come out slowly.”
A man stepped into the light with both hands raised. He was in his late sixties, his hair silver, his suit soaked from the rain. Dominic recognized him after a moment: Frank Dwyer, the caretaker who had looked after Michael and then vanished from the family payroll.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Dominic said.
Frank swallowed. “That was the point.”
Marco moved to restrain him, but Dominic held up a hand.
“Why use Michael’s account?”
“Because no one would think to look for him,” Frank said. “And because your father asked me to keep the system alive. He knew someone would try to erase the records after his stroke.”
“Did Kessler tell you to change the medication?”
Frank’s face crumpled. “I didn’t touch the medication. I swear it.”
“Then why are you here?”
Frank looked at Rachel. “Because Sarah’s daughter finally found the ring.”
Rachel felt cold. “You knew my mother?”
“I drove her away from the mansion the night she came here. I thought I was helping her. Kessler said he’d arrange a meeting with Antonio somewhere safe. But Peter Vale was waiting outside the gate.”
“What happened?” Dominic demanded.
Frank closed his eyes. “I heard the argument. I saw Sarah run. Peter followed her. I should have stopped him. Instead, I took the money and went home.”
Rachel’s hand curled into a fist. “You let him chase her.”
“I was a coward.” Frank’s voice broke. “I’ve been one ever since.”
Dominic took a step toward him. “Who was using Michael’s account six weeks ago?”
Frank shook his head. “Not me. I activated the backup, but the login came from someone else. Someone who knows the code phrase.”
“What phrase?”
Frank looked at the child’s drawing. “The family must remain complete.”
Marco’s tablet chimed. A file had opened on the monitor by itself. It showed a scanned birth record, then a second page with a handwritten note.
Dominic leaned in.
The record was for a child born two days before Michael’s death. The mother’s name was blank. The father’s name had been blacked out. The child had been transferred to a private clinic and then vanished from every official record.
Rachel whispered, “Another child?”
Frank nodded.
“Michael wasn’t the only child hidden from the family,” he said. “There was a baby. Your father never spoke of it because he was told it died.”
Dominic’s eyes stayed on the screen. “Who told him?”
Frank looked at the open doorway.
A woman’s voice answered from the darkness.
“I did.”
May you like
Vanessa stood at the top of the stairs, a guard nowhere in sight. She had escaped the guest suite.
And in her hand, she held a pistol.
