Chapter 2 - NATHAN’S WORKBENCH
At eight the next morning, Anthony Moretti entered Bennett Jewelers carrying a black leather case.
Grace locked the door behind him.
“No guards?”
“One outside.”
“One?”
“You asked me not to bring an army.”
“I asked you not to involve my daughter.”
“That conversation is still happening.”
Emma appeared from behind the workshop curtain.
“I heard that.”
Grace sighed.
Anthony almost smiled.
The necklace was placed beneath Nathan Bennett’s old lamp.
Emma examined the false pearl.
“You need Grandpa’s tools.”
She opened a drawer.
Everything was exactly where Nathan had left it.
Tiny screwdrivers.
Tweezers.
Files.
Magnifiers.
Emma chose a thin rubber grip.
“Don’t force it,” she said.
Anthony raised an eyebrow.
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You looked like you were.”
“I have a face that looks like that.”
“Yes.”
Grace whispered, “Emma.”
“What?”
Anthony actually smiled.
Emma carefully twisted the pearl.
Nothing.
Again.
A tiny movement.
Then the pearl separated into two perfect hemispheres.
Inside was a metal cylinder no larger than a grain of rice.
Grace whispered, “What is that?”
Anthony knew.
“Microfilm.”
Emma looked at him.
“What’s microfilm?”
“A very old way of hiding information.”
“Grandpa liked old ways.”
Anthony examined the capsule.
A tiny letter had been scratched into it.
N.B.
Nathan Bennett.
Grace sat down.
“My father hid this?”
Anthony looked at her.
“Apparently.”
Emma frowned.
“Then Grandpa knew the necklace would come back.”
That thought silenced everyone.
Anthony sent the film to a trusted technician.
Three hours later, images appeared.
Bank accounts.
Dates.
Initials.
Payments.
Then one photograph.
Salvatore Moretti stood outside a warehouse.
Beside him was Walter Russo.
Between them was Nathan Bennett.
On the back, Nathan had written:
THE THREE MEN WHO KNOW.
Emma stared.
“Know what?”
Nobody answered.
Then another frame appeared.
A handwritten ledger page.
One line had been circled.
RUSSO — $250,000 — 4/17/98.
The day before Salvatore Moretti died.
Anthony went completely still.
Grace whispered:
“Oh my God.”
Anthony closed the laptop.
“Emma, go upstairs.”
“No.”
“Emma.”
“My grandfather hid it. I’m staying.”
Anthony looked at Grace.
Grace surprised him.
“She stays.”
“Mrs. Bennett—”
“My father put something inside a necklace and left my daughter enough knowledge to find it.”
Her voice trembled.
“I think my family is already involved.”
Anthony opened the computer again.
There was one final image.
A note from Nathan.
IF THE PEARLS RETURN, WALTER HAS RUN OUT OF TIME.
Emma read it twice.
Then pointed toward the necklace.
“There are forty-seven pearls.”
Anthony frowned.
“So?”
“Grandpa liked even numbers.”
Grace stared.
“What?”
“His strands were always balanced.”
Emma counted again.
“Forty-seven.”
Anthony understood.
“One is missing.”
Emma nodded.
May you like
“And I think the missing pearl matters more than the fake one.”
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