Chapter 5 - THE LETTER UNDER THE VELVET
Vincent refused to damage the violin case.
Instead, he called a professional instrument conservator.
Clare appreciated that.
It was the first time he'd made a decision involving her mother's history without trying to control the outcome.
The conservator examined the case carefully.
Beneath the velvet lining, near the neck support, he discovered a narrow compartment.
It had been expertly concealed.
Inside was a folded sheet of paper wrapped in protective material.
The paper contained a sequence of numbers.
And a handwritten note.
Evelyn, forgive me.
The second book is where the river changes direction.
L.M.
Clare stared.
“That's all?”
The conservator shook his head.
“There may be more.”
He examined the compartment.
Then found a small brass key.
Vincent looked at it.
A number was engraved on the handle.
417\.
Isabella began crying.
“Lucia always said four-seventeen was the day she lost her music.”
Clare looked up.
“What happened on April seventeenth?”
Isabella shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Vincent studied the key.
Then said quietly:
“I might.”
The Moretti family owned an old riverside warehouse on the South Branch of the Chicago River.
It had been purchased in 1994.
The same year as the Bellwether fire.
The building stood near a bend in the river.
Where the water changed direction.
Vincent remembered visiting it as a child.
His grandfather kept a private records room there.
After the older man's death, the building had remained largely unused.
Vincent looked at Clare.
“We should tell Detective Ruiz.”
She nodded immediately.
“Agreed.”
He smiled faintly.
“You don't trust me to handle this?”
Clare met his eyes.
“I trust evidence more than influence.”
Vincent considered.
“Fair.”
Detective Ruiz arranged for the warehouse to be searched through proper legal procedures.
Vincent cooperated.
He provided ownership records and access information.
Clare was not permitted to participate in the search.
She waited at the police station with Isabella.
Hours passed.
Then Ruiz returned.
Her expression was serious.
“We found a locked cabinet marked 417.”
Clare stood.
“Did the key work?”
Ruiz nodded.
Inside were financial records.
Old contracts.
Bank statements.
Photographs.
And a second ledger documenting diverted scholarship funds.
The entries implicated several individuals.
Including members of the Harrington family.
And Vincent's grandfather.
Clare sat down.
Her hands trembled.
For thirty-two years, her mother had carried a secret that could have destroyed powerful people.
Now it was finally coming into the light.
But before Clare could feel relief, Ruiz continued.
“There's something else.”
Clare looked up.
“What?”
Ruiz hesitated.
“We found correspondence suggesting someone knew Evelyn Hart survived the fire.”
Silence.
May you like
Then she said:
“And that person may have been watching her for years.”
