Chapter 18 - The Music Box Secret
Sofia Duca’s piano had not been played in twenty-four years.
It stood inside a locked music room in the oldest wing of the estate.
Roman entered alone first.
Clara followed.
The grand piano rested beneath a white sheet.
Dust coated everything except the floor around it.
Roman noticed immediately.
“Someone has been here.”
Marcus drew his weapon.
They searched.
Nothing.
Roman pulled the sheet away.
The black Steinway gleamed beneath the chandelier.
Clara ran her fingers beneath the keyboard.
“Hidden compartment?”
Roman shook his head.
“My mother hated obvious hiding places.”
He sat on the bench.
For a moment, his hands hovered over the keys.
“You play?” Clara asked.
“Poorly.”
“Prove it.”
Roman gave her a look.
Then pressed three notes.
The sound echoed through the room.
A memory crossed his face.
“She used to play something every night.”
“What?”
“Chopin.”
Adrian entered behind them.
Catherine had remembered the same piece.
Roman played the opening notes from memory.
Nothing happened.
Clara examined the keys.
Some were more worn than others.
She counted them.
“Roman.”
He looked over.
“What if the music is a code?”
Marcus groaned softly.
“I hate rich families.”
They reconstructed Sofia’s favorite piece.
Certain repeated notes corresponded to letters.
The result spelled:
BENEATH FIRST WINTER.
Roman frowned.
“The first winter.”
Clara looked around the room.
Then she saw a painting.
A snowy landscape.
Signed S. Duca.
Sofia had painted it the first winter after marrying Antonio.
They removed the frame.
Behind it was a narrow steel safe.
Roman entered Sofia’s wedding date.
Click.
Inside sat a wooden music box.
And a letter.
Roman opened the letter.
My sons,
If this is being read, then truth finally became more dangerous than silence.
The ledger belongs to neither family.
It belongs to the people harmed by what these men did.
Do not use it for revenge.
Use it to end the need for revenge.
Clara looked at Roman.
His face was unreadable.
Adrian opened the music box.
Inside was a microfilm reel.
Marcus let out a low whistle.
“Elias.”
They scanned it.
Hundreds of pages appeared.
Transactions.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
Arthur Kessler’s name appeared repeatedly.
So did Antonio Duca’s.
Salvatore Marcone’s.
Judges.
Police commissioners.
Business executives.
The foundation of the city’s modern wealth had been soaked in corruption.
Then they found one final page.
Elias Vane had written a note.
If I disappear, understand this:
Antonio discovered Arthur’s plan too late.
He tried to stop the final shipment.
He failed.
Roman stared.
Clara leaned closer.
The last shipment had contained explosives.
Explosives used in a warehouse bombing that killed thirty-one civilians.
For decades, the public believed the Duca family ordered it.
But Elias’s records showed Antonio tried to intercept the shipment.
Adrian looked at Roman.
“Your father was still guilty.”
Roman nodded.
“Yes.”
“But not of that.”
“No.”
Roman closed his eyes.
The truth was neither absolution nor condemnation.
It was worse.
Human.
Marcus suddenly received a security alert.
His face changed.
“Someone breached the north perimeter.”
Roman stood.
“How many?”
“Unknown.”
Then every light in the music room died.
Clara felt Roman’s hand immediately find hers.
A voice came from the darkness.
Not through speakers.
From inside the room.
“Thank you for finding it.”
Roman drew his gun.
A man stepped from behind the velvet curtains.
Daniel Kessler.
He held a pistol against Catherine Bell’s head.
Clara’s heart stopped.
“How did you—”
Kessler smiled.
“Your security system was designed by a company my foundation owns.”
Roman raised his weapon.
Kessler pressed the gun harder against Catherine.
“Put it down.”
Roman obeyed.
Adrian moved forward.
“Take me. Let her go.”
Kessler looked at him almost fondly.
“You really are Sofia’s son.”
Then his expression hardened.
“But she saved the wrong family.”
He looked toward the screen containing Elias’s ledger.
“Give me the original.”
Roman shook his head.
“You came too late.”
Kessler’s smile faded.
Clara understood before he did.
She had already transmitted encrypted copies to three independent servers.
Roman looked at Kessler.
May you like
“For once, Daniel, the truth has more than one life.”
Kessler fired.
