Chương 6
“How old?” Adrian asked.
“Eight.”
He knew that.
He had seen the child in the service hallway, in the kitchen after school, asleep once on folded tablecloths in the laundry room. Elena had said the sitter failed to arrive. He had given permission for Lily to remain in staff areas as long as security knew she was present.
Eight years.
He counted backward anyway.
Dr. Harris watched the calculation cross his face.
“Do not do anything tonight,” the doctor said.
Adrian’s laugh was nearly soundless. “You’ve mistaken me for a man with options.”
“You have more than most.”
“Not the ones that matter.”
The door opened, and Detective Bell entered with a uniformed officer. She had removed her wet coat. Beneath it she wore a navy suit and a white blouse creased from the weather.
“Mr. Moretti,” she said. “I need to ask you some questions.”
“My attorney is coming.”
“Then we can wait.”
“Is Vanessa under arrest?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because finding a bottle in someone’s jewelry box is not the same as proving what was inside, who placed it there, or what was done with it.”
“The child saw her.”
“A child made a statement. We take that seriously. We also verify it.”
“Where is Vanessa?”
“With her attorney now.”
“She could leave.”
“Not without our knowledge.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Detective Bell pulled a chair closer to the foot of the bed. “Your gates are surrounded by reporters. Someone leaked the ambulance call and your name.”
Adrian looked toward Dr. Harris.
The doctor shook his head.
Bell continued. “The city will know you’re hospitalized by morning. You may want to consider whether protecting your reputation is more important than preserving evidence.”
“My reputation has survived worse than bad tea.”
“Maybe. Your kidneys may not.”
He looked at her.
She did not look away.
“Ms. Vale claims the cash was yours,” Bell said. “Was it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you commonly keep eighty thousand dollars beneath your blanket?”
“No.”
“Do you keep large amounts of cash in the residence?”
“Speak to my attorney.”
“Was Elena Ramirez authorized to enter your bedroom?”
“She works in the house.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“She has entered before.”
“With your permission?”
“Yes.”
“Did she know where you kept money?”
“No.”
“Did Vanessa?”
“Yes.”
“Who benefits financially if you die?”
Adrian’s eyes sharpened.
Dr. Harris looked down at his hands.
Bell waited.
“My attorney,” Adrian said.
She stood. “Fine. One more thing. Ms. Ramirez and her daughter cannot return to the mansion tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because Lily is a witness and may have been threatened.”
Adrian looked toward the door as though he could see through nine floors and three miles of rain.
“Who threatened her?”
Bell paused. “According to Lily, Ms. Vale told her that children like her disappear in big houses.”
The monitor changed rhythm.
Dr. Harris reached toward it.
Adrian waved him away.
Bell said, “I’m arranging temporary protection.”
“No.”
“This is not your decision.”
“It becomes my decision if your protection is a motel with a patrol car outside.”
“It isn’t.”
“Where?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“They’ll need clothes.”
“We’ll handle it.”
“Her mother needs medication.”
Bell’s expression shifted. “What medication?”
“Her mother. Elena’s mother. Insulin supplies are in the staff apartment refrigerator.”
Dr. Harris glanced at him.
Bell took out her notebook. “We’ll retrieve them.”
Adrian continued. “Lily has a blue backpack in the laundry room. There’s a stuffed rabbit inside. The left ear is torn.”
The detective stopped writing.
Adrian noticed her surprise and disliked it.
“I pay attention to my house,” he said.
Bell closed the notebook. “You did not know she was your daughter.”
Dr. Harris stood abruptly.
Adrian’s face became still.
Bell’s regret appeared a moment too late. “I’m sorry. I assumed—”
“Leave.”
“Mr. Moretti—”
“Now.”
She left.
Dr. Harris remained near the window.
Adrian stared at the door long after it shut.
“She told a detective before she told me,” he said.
“She was protecting the girl.”
“From whom?”
The doctor did not answer.
Adrian turned his head. “From me?”
“Would she have been wrong?”
At the mansion, Vanessa stood in the dining room with her attorney, Charles Winn, while officers searched her bedroom under a warrant obtained before dawn.
Winn was thin, silver-haired, and offended by furniture. He moved every chair a few inches before sitting, as if no arrangement made by another person could be trusted. He had represented politicians, developers, surgeons, and one television preacher whose second family appeared during a tax hearing.
He had also represented Adrian twice.
That relationship ended the moment Vanessa called him first.
“They will test the bottles,” he told her. “They will test the cup, the cash bands, the box, the room, your phone, and likely the plumbing if they believe anything was poured away.”
Vanessa sat with both hands around a glass of water she did not drink.
“Good.”
“Good?”
“It will prove I didn’t poison him.”
“Will it?”
She looked up.
Winn rested his elbows on the table. “I need the truth before the police find a version of it.”
“I gave you the truth.”
“You gave me a sentence.”
“I did not poison Adrian.”
“Did you place either bottle in the jewelry box?”
“No.”
“Did you know they were there?”
“No.”
“Did you put the money under the blanket?”
Her fingers tightened on the glass.
Winn watched them.
“That cash is Adrian’s.”
“Did you put it there?”
“I moved it.”
“From where?”
She looked toward the windows. Rain traced crooked paths down the glass. Beyond the lawn, camera lights flashed at the front gates.
“His office.”
“Why?”
“He told me to.”
“When?”
“Yesterday afternoon.”
“Was anyone present?”
“No.”
“Did he text you? Write a note? Leave a message?”
“He was ill. He asked me verbally.”
“What exactly did he say?”
“He said, ‘Move the cash from the lower safe.’”
“To his bed?”
“To somewhere secure.”
Winn looked around the mansion.
“This entire house is secure.”
May you like
“You don’t know this house.”
“I know twelve police officers are currently dismantling it.”
