Chapter 5 - The Name on the Grave
Lorenzo's first instinct was to dismiss the caller as someone exploiting a family tragedy. His second was to drive to the cemetery.
The official burial record listed Evelyn Carter, age thirty-one. The cemetery ledger, however, contained a handwritten correction entered three days after the funeral. The remains had been identified through a personal necklace, not dental records or DNA. The grave had never been reopened.
Lorenzo returned to the hospital with copies. He did not show Nora immediately. She was recovering, and the doctor had warned against further stress. Instead, he told her the truth he could verify: her mother's death records contained discrepancies, and he intended to investigate them.
“You don't get to decide what I can handle,” Nora replied.
He accepted the rebuke. “You're right.”
She studied the documents for a long time. Then she pointed to a photograph of the necklace. “That wasn't my mother's.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because hers had a little blue stone. I wore it for years. I sold it when I was nineteen to pay rent.”
Lorenzo felt the floor shift beneath him.
At the estate, Giovanni was examined by an independent neurologist. The doctor confirmed severe motor impairment but found clear evidence of preserved comprehension. An assisted communication board was brought to his bedside. With considerable effort, Giovanni began selecting letters using his gaze.
His first message took nearly forty minutes.
NORA SAFE?
Lorenzo swallowed. “She's safe. Her daughter is safe, too.”
Giovanni closed his eyes.
His next message took longer.
EVELYN DID NOT STEAL.
Lorenzo sat very still. “Nobody said she did.”
Giovanni stared at him.
The doctor helped arrange the next letters.
I LET THEM BLAME HER.
Lorenzo had known his father to order terrible things. He had also known him to protect innocent people when it cost him nothing. The distinction suddenly seemed unbearable.
“Who blamed her?”
Giovanni's eyes moved toward the door.
Then, slowly, he spelled a name.
VINCENT.
Vincent Moretti was Giovanni's younger brother. Officially, he had died in a boating accident eleven years earlier.
Lorenzo called Marco. “Pull every record on my uncle.”
Marco was silent for a moment. “Boss, there's something you should see first.”
A surveillance image arrived on Lorenzo's phone. It showed Mrs. Gable entering a private medical building in Manhattan. A man in a dark coat waited beside the entrance.
The man's face was older, heavier, and marked by a scar.
May you like
But Lorenzo recognized him.
Uncle Vincent was alive.
