Chapter 4 - The Envelope on Vincent’s Desk
Saul was waiting when they arrived.
There was an envelope on Vincent's desk.
Clara pointed at it.
“What's that?”
Saul looked uncomfortable.
“Something Thomas Hayes left.”
Clara's face drained.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
Vincent looked furious.
“You had this?”
“I didn't know Mickey was collecting from her.”
“That wasn't my question.”
Saul sighed.
“Yes.”
Clara approached the desk.
“Why?”
“Your father asked me to hold it.”
“For whom?”
“You.”
Clara stared at him.
“Eight months.”
“I know.”
“You've had something from my dead father for eight months?”
“He told me not to deliver it unless the debt was settled.”
Vincent's voice went cold.
“His actual debt was nine thousand.”
“Yes.”
“And she paid forty-eight.”
“Yes.”
“Then why wasn't it delivered?”
Saul looked away.
Vincent understood first.
“Mickey.”
Saul nodded.
“He controlled the ledger.”
Clara opened the envelope.
Inside was a handwritten letter and a small key.
She read silently.
Then stopped.
Vincent watched her.
“What?”
Clara handed him the letter.
He read it.
Thomas Hayes had written only a few paragraphs.
He admitted the gambling.
He admitted lying to Clara.
And he admitted something worse.
He had discovered Mickey was running private loans using Costa money without reporting the profits.
Thomas had tried to use that knowledge to negotiate his debt.
Mickey had responded by doubling it.
Clara sat down.
“My father tried to blackmail him.”
Saul shook his head.
“Not exactly.”
“What would you call it?”
“He was scared.”
“He gambled away money he didn't have.”
“Yes.”
“He lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“He left me this.”
Her fingers closed around the key.
“What does it open?”
Saul pointed to the bottom of the letter.
“A safe-deposit box.”
Vincent read the final sentence aloud.
“Records.”
Saul nodded.
“Thomas copied Mickey's private books.”
Clara looked at Vincent.
“What happens if those records exist?”
“Mickey isn't our only problem.”
“How many?”
“I don't know.”
Saul answered instead.
“Maybe twelve collectors.”
Vincent slowly turned.
“Twelve?”
“Maybe more.”
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
Vincent crossed the room.
Saul stood.
Clara immediately said, “Vincent.”
He stopped.
His back remained toward her.
She repeated his name.
“Vincent.”
He turned.
She shook her head.
“No.”
His breathing slowed.
Saul watched the exchange with disbelief.
“You're letting her stop you?”
Vincent looked at him.
“She's the only person in this building who has actually paid the price for what we failed to control.”
Saul said nothing.
Clara held up the key.
“We get the records.”
Vincent nodded.
“Then?”
“Then we find everyone.”
“Everyone involved?”
“No.”
She looked directly at him.
“Everyone they collected from.”
Vincent became still.
Clara continued.
“You said I could see exactly what your empire did.”
“Yes.”
“I don't think I'm the only one.”
Saul scoffed.
“You have any idea what refunding these people could cost?”
Vincent turned.
“Do you?”
Saul stopped.
Vincent stepped closer.
“Because that's the question you should have asked before allowing men under my name to rob them.”
“This could be millions.”
“Then it's millions.”
Saul stared at him.
“You'll weaken the organization.”
Vincent's answer came quietly.
“An organization that needs to steal from waitresses and threaten sisters deserves weakening.”
Clara watched him.
This wasn't the Vincent Costa she knew.
Or perhaps it was.
Perhaps she had only ever seen the version sitting at the top of the building.
Now he was being forced to look downward.
Vincent turned to her.
“You understand this won't erase what happened.”
“I know.”
“And returning money doesn't make us good people.”
“I know that too.”
“What does it make us?”
Clara looked at the key in her palm.
“Responsible.”
The room became quiet.
Vincent nodded.
“Then tomorrow we open the box.”
Clara shook her head.
“Tonight.”
He stared at her.
“You have now been awake for—”
“Don't calculate it.”
“Twenty-one hours.”
“I specifically said don't calculate it.”
“You're going home.”
“Vincent.”
“That's not an order.”
“It sounded exactly like one.”
He stepped closer.
“It's a request.”
That stopped her.
Vincent Costa did not request.
He commanded.
Clara picked up her coat.
“Fine.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“Fine?”
“Don't make me reconsider.”
Vincent took her coat and held it for her.
Clara stared.
“What are you doing?”
“Apparently learning.”
She slipped her arms into it.
Then looked over her shoulder.
“Slowly.”
His mouth twitched.
May you like
“Very slowly.”
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