The receipt image was sharper than the clip. A payment for forty-eight thousand dollars had gone from a company called North Quay Advisory to an automotive contractor named Elias Voss. The description read CONSULTING. The date was the night before the crash.
Vincent studied the screen. “A receipt can be made on any computer.”
“So can a wedding invitation,” Alessandro said. “The question is who sent it.”
Isabella looked over her shoulder at the guests, as though searching for a friendly face. None volunteered one.
I had never seen her look small before. She still wore diamonds, still stood beneath chandeliers worth more than my apartment building, but every time the computer chimed, she flinched.
At last Alessandro turned to me. “Rosa, start from the beginning. Not for the room. For me.”
I told him how David had approached me, how Vincent had appeared, how Isabella had caught me near the corridor, and how she’d thrown me into a damaged display cabinet. My breathing became uneven when I described her mentioning Lily.
“What exactly did she say about your daughter?” Alessandro asked.
I repeated it. A guest behind me whispered something angry. I wished he wouldn’t. This was no longer a story about a rich woman behaving cruelly to a maid. Isabella had used the name of the person I loved most.
“Where is Lily now?” Alessandro asked.
“With Teresa. She’s safe.”
“Call her. Ask Teresa not to open the door to strangers. Marco will arrange protection with your permission.”
I took out my phone. My thumb left a faint red mark on the screen. Teresa answered on the second ring. I could hear Lily singing a song about a blue moon in the background, making up half the words.
I wanted to cry so badly I had to lean against Mrs. Alvarez.
When I ended the call, I saw that Marco had returned with two guards. He was carrying David’s empty camera case.
“We found this in the service elevator,” he said. “No sign of David yet. His phone is off.”
“Have local police informed?” Alessandro asked.
“Yes. They’re on the way.”
Vincent’s gaze jumped to the camera case. For the first time I noticed that he had stopped asking for the party to continue.
Isabella approached Alessandro’s chair. “Please. We’re married now. We should handle whatever this is between us.”
He studied the ring on his left hand. The ceremony had been that morning, with white flowers, classical music, and vows I had helped arrange. He slid the ring off slowly and set it beside the untouched wedding cake.
“Being married doesn’t make your questions less serious,” he said. “It makes the answers more important.”
She reached for his hand. He moved it to the armrest.
“I knew you’d turn against me,” she whispered.
“No,” he replied. “You counted on me never looking behind the picture.”
The paramedics entered through the side door. They checked my bleeding wound and gently helped me to a stretcher. I hated how the guests watched. I hated that my legs shook when I tried to stand. But one elderly guest stepped forward and tucked the loose edge of my uniform around me, shielding my torn back from the room.
“My name is Evelyn Park,” she said. “I was a nurse before I retired. You were brave, dear, but you don’t have to be brave every minute.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
As they prepared to move me, Alessandro asked Marco to send a copy of the footage directly to detectives and preserve the original card in a sealed evidence bag. No one would clean the broken frame until it was photographed. I heard him dictate every instruction, careful and exact.
Then he called to me.
“Rosa.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Why didn’t David bring the card to me himself?”
Ich erinnerte mich an das blasse Gesicht des Fotografen und daran, wie er immer wieder den Versorgungsgang entlanggeschaut hatte. „Er sagte, Ihre Besucher würden kontrolliert. Er befürchtete, seine Ausrüstung würde durchsucht werden.“
Alessandros Stirn runzelte sich. „Von wem?“
„Leute, die unsere Sicherheitsausweise tragen“, antwortete ich. „Er hat nicht gesagt, dass es Ihre Leute sind.“
Eine Stille senkte sich herab, die anders zu sein schien als die anderen.
Marco nahm langsam seinen Ausweis ab und legte ihn auf den Tisch. „Ich werde über jeden in dieser Woche ausgegebenen Ausweis Rechenschaft ablegen.“
Alessandro nickte. „Auch deins.“
Ich sah sie abwechselnd an. Marco arbeitete schon länger für die Familie als ich. Ich hatte gesehen, wie er einem verletzten Gärtner Kuchen kaufte und eine ältere Köchin zu einer Beerdigung fuhr. Aber heute Abend mussten selbst gute Menschen Fragen beantworten.
