Chapter 2 - What the Maid Heard
“Don't.”
My gun moved toward Nora.
She froze.
Slowly, she pulled her hand from her coat.
There was no weapon.
Only a small black notebook.
Dominic laughed again.
“This is your evidence?”
Nora ignored him.
She placed the notebook on the table.
“May I?”
“Talk.”
She opened it.
“Friday, 9:18 p.m. Dominic received a call in the west hallway.”
Dominic rolled his eyes.
“I receive hundreds of calls.”
Nora continued.
“He said, ‘Move Monday to Tuesday. Same route.’”
I looked at Dominic.
He shrugged.
“Business.”
Nora turned a page.
“Saturday morning, I remembered hearing him say something similar two weeks earlier.”
“What?”
“‘The bridge is cleaner than the tunnel.’”
My expression changed.
Tuesday evening I was scheduled to attend a private dinner in Brooklyn.
My convoy planned to use the bridge.
Only six people knew.
Dominic was one.
Nora continued.
“I started reviewing conversations I'd overheard during the last three months.”
“You reviewed conversations?”
“I wrote them down.”
Dominic sneered.
“Of course the maid keeps a diary.”
Nora finally looked at him.
“No. The maid keeps records because powerful men speak carelessly around people they don't respect.”
His smile disappeared.
She turned another page.
“March 14. You told someone the cameras near Pier Twelve would fail for seventeen minutes.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“April 2. You asked whether Mr. Moretti's replacement driver had a family.”
“Nonsense.”
“April 19. You told someone, ‘Don't touch him at home. Too many variables.’”
Dominic turned toward me.
“Adrian, she's twisting operational conversations.”
“Then explain them.”
His face hardened.
“We have enemies.”
“Yes.”
“I investigate threats.”
“Then explaining should be easy.”
Silence.
Nora reached into her coat again.
This time I didn't stop her.
She removed a phone.
“That's mine,” Dominic snapped.
“Yes.”
“You stole it.”
“No.”
She looked toward the security officers.
“They recovered it when they detained you.”
Dominic turned toward them.
“You have any idea who I am?”
The officer nearest him answered calmly.
“Yes.”
“Then remove these cuffs.”
“No.”
I almost smiled.
Nora handed me the phone.
“There are two devices. His normal phone and this one.”
I examined it.
Cheap.
Prepaid.
No identifying case.
“Where did you find it?”
“In a storage locker in Queens.”
Now even I stared at her.
“You went to Queens alone?”
“No.”
“With whom?”
“People I hired.”
“You spent nothing.”
“I didn't hire them with your money.”
That answer surprised me.
“How?”
Nora looked at the six officers.
“I offered them information.”
The security leader nodded.
“My company has been investigating thefts from three warehouses. Ms. Hale identified the person coordinating them.”
Dominic's head snapped toward Nora.
“How?”
She looked at him.
“You talk too loudly when you're angry.”
I opened the phone.
Messages.
Dates.
Locations.
Numbers.
One sentence made my stomach tighten.
TUESDAY. BRIDGE. SECOND VEHICLE.
I turned the screen toward Dominic.
He stared at it.
Then smiled.
“Anyone could have planted that.”
Nora nodded.
“I thought you'd say that.”
She produced a folded document.
“That's why I found the payments.”
Dominic stopped smiling.
For years, someone had been moving money from several Moretti-controlled companies through subcontractors.
Tiny amounts compared with our overall revenue.
Forty thousand.
Sixty-five thousand.
Ninety thousand.
Never enough to trigger a major internal review.
But Nora had connected them.
All of them eventually reached one shell company.
Varga Strategic Consulting.
I stared at Dominic.
“You named it after yourself?”
His expression tightened.
“It isn't mine.”
Nora spoke quietly.
“Your mother's maiden name was Varga. The incorporation paperwork uses the address of an apartment she owned before she died.”
Dominic looked at her with pure hatred.
I had seen that look before.
Usually seconds before somebody disappeared.
“Nora.”
She looked at me.
“How did you find all this in seventy-two hours?”
She placed my untouched black card on the table.
“I didn't need money.”
“Then what did you need?”
“People.”
I frowned.
She continued.
“The chauffeur nobody greets. The receptionist nobody remembers. The night janitor everyone walks past. The accountant everyone interrupts.”
She looked around my penthouse.
“People tell servants everything because they think we're furniture.”
Dominic laughed bitterly.
“And they all just volunteered?”
“No.”
“What did you offer?”
“Respect.”
That silenced him.
I lowered my gun.
“Take Dominic downstairs.”
Two guards grabbed his arms.
He struggled.
“Adrian, think carefully.”
“I am.”
“She wants your position.”
Nora's eyebrows lifted.
“I spent three years washing his coffee cups. If I wanted your job, Dominic, I would have chosen a less exhausting route.”
One guard almost laughed.
Dominic didn't.
As they dragged him toward the elevator, he looked back at me.
“You're making the biggest mistake of your life.”
I answered quietly.
“No.”
My eyes shifted toward Nora.
“I think I made it three years ago.”
The elevator closed.
Nora exhaled.
Then her knees nearly gave out.
I caught her arm.
For the first time that night, she looked frightened.
“There's something else,” she whispered.
“What?”
May you like
“Dominic wasn't working alone.”
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