Chapter 3 - The Woman Behind the Uniform
Dante’s private office was silent except for rain.
Lucy stood across from his desk.
Felix had been taken downstairs.
Enzo remained near the door.
Dante opened a file.
“Lucy Warren.”
She said nothing.
“Twenty-seven years old. Father: Professor Charles Warren.”
Lucy’s hands tightened.
“International linguistics consultant.”
“He was a professor.”
“He was also a gambler.”
Lucy looked away.
Dante continued.
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
“I know the number.”
“You’ve been paying it?”
“Every month.”
“With eleven dollars an hour?”
“And weekend work.”
Dante closed the file.
“Why?”
“Because your people told me the debt became mine.”
Enzo frowned.
“Who told you that?”
Lucy looked at him.
“Mr. Bellini.”
Dante’s eyes hardened.
“Carlo Bellini?”
“Yes.”
Enzo stepped forward.
“Boss, Bellini handles overseas accounts.”
Dante was already thinking.
Lucy saw it happen.
Connections.
Felix.
Translations.
Foreign negotiations.
Her father’s debt.
Dante looked at her.
“When did Bellini offer you this job?”
“Eight months ago.”
“Before or after Felix started translating for me?”
“I don’t know.”
Enzo answered.
“Same week.”
Silence.
Dante stood.
“Your father worked for Bellini?”
“Sometimes.”
“Doing what?”
“Translations. Contracts. Meetings.”
“Did he keep records?”
Lucy hesitated.
“Yes.”
Enzo straightened.
Dante asked, “Where?”
“My apartment.”
“Get your coat.”
Lucy stared at him.
“You’re coming with me?”
“Yes.”
“That seems unnecessary.”
Dante walked around the desk.
“Someone planted a false translator inside my organization, brought the daughter of a linguist connected to my international accounts into my home, and made sure she stayed invisible.”
He stopped in front of her.
“I don’t believe in coincidences.”
Lucy lifted her chin.
“Neither did my father.”
“What did he believe?”
“That powerful men call things coincidences when they don’t want people asking questions.”
Enzo quietly looked at the floor.
Dante’s mouth twitched.
“I think I would have liked your father.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“He would have corrected your Italian.”
Dante actually laughed.
It lasted perhaps two seconds.
But Enzo looked stunned.
Lucy did too.
Then Dante’s expression hardened again.
“Your apartment. Now.”
They arrived thirty minutes later.
The door was already open.
Lucy stopped.
“No.”
Dante caught her arm before she entered.
“Stay behind me.”
“My father’s notebooks—”
“Lucy.”
She looked at him.
“Behind me.”
The apartment had been searched.
Drawers emptied.
Books scattered.
Mattress cut open.
Lucy rushed toward the bedroom.
“Everything’s gone.”
Dante examined the room.
“Not everything.”
He pointed toward an old photograph lying beneath a chair.
Lucy picked it up.
Her father stood beside three men at an academic conference in Geneva.
One was Felix.
Another was Carlo Bellini.
The third man made Dante go completely still.
Lucy noticed.
“Who is he?”
Dante took the photograph.
“My father.”
Lucy stared.
“Your father knew mine?”
“Apparently.”
She turned the picture over.
Something was written on the back.
French.
Lucy translated aloud.
“Languages hide what numbers reveal.”
Below it was a sequence.
Dante frowned.
“Numbers.”
Lucy suddenly understood.
“My father’s storage unit.”
“What?”
“He used number sequences instead of addresses.”
Dante looked at her.
“You know where?”
“Yes.”
A floorboard creaked outside.
Dante turned.
Someone ran down the hallway.
Enzo rushed after them.
Dante pulled Lucy away from the doorway.
Seconds later, Enzo returned.
“Gone.”
Dante looked toward the stairs.
“They knew we were coming.”
Lucy’s face went pale.
“How?”
Dante looked at the photograph again.
May you like
“Because Felix isn’t the only traitor.”
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