Chapter 8 - THE MAN WHO KNEW ABOUT THE FUNERAL
Eleanor showed me a small wooden box.
Inside were letters.
Photographs.
And a cassette tape.
My father had left them in her care.
“He knew you might need answers,” she said.
I picked up the tape.
“What is this?”
“Daniel recorded a conversation shortly before he died.”
My hands trembled.
Eleanor placed an old cassette player on the table.
I pressed play.
Static filled the room.
Then a man's voice.
“Thomas, if anything happens to me, don't let them tell you it was an accident.”
I stopped breathing.
The voice continued.
“Salvatore isn't acting alone.”
A pause.
“Margaret knows everything.”
I looked at Eleanor.
She nodded sadly.
The recording continued.
“They're moving money through the shipping accounts. If we expose them, they'll lose millions.”
Another pause.
Then Daniel said:
“And there's something else.”
The tape crackled.
“Vincent doesn't know.”
I leaned forward.
“Doesn't know what?” I whispered.
Daniel's voice returned.
“His mother is the one who ordered the warehouse meeting.”
The recording ended.
I sat motionless.
For five years, Margaret had treated me like an inconvenience.
She had mocked my father.
Dismissed his death.
And told me I had nobody powerful left to protect me.
Now I understood why.
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My father hadn't simply been a reminder of an old debt.
He had been a threat to a secret Margaret had spent fifteen years protecting.
