Chapter 3 - The Numbers That Didn’t Translate
Three days later, Lucy discovered that language was not the only thing people could manipulate.
Numbers lied too.
Especially when someone wanted them to.
She was reviewing Spanish warehouse contracts when she noticed three invoices carrying the same unusual phrase.
“Enzo.”
He looked up from his phone.
“What?”
“Who is Calderon Freight?”
“One of our subcontractors.”
“Good company?”
“Been with us six years.”
Lucy turned the laptop toward him.
“They’ve billed the same security service three times.”
Enzo frowned.
“No, they haven’t.”
“Same amount. Different descriptions.”
He leaned closer.
One invoice called it night security.
Another called it restricted cargo supervision.
The third called it warehouse perimeter protection.
Same dates.
Same amount.
Different shell companies receiving payment.
Enzo stopped smiling.
“How did you catch that?”
“The Spanish descriptions are translations of the same sentence.”
He went for Dante.
Ten minutes later, Dante entered.
“What happened?”
Lucy showed him.
Dante studied the records.
“Three hundred eighty thousand.”
“Over five months,” Lucy said.
Enzo cursed.
Dante looked at Lucy.
“Keep looking.”
“That wasn’t my assignment.”
“I’m asking.”
Lucy considered him.
Then nodded.
“Fine.”
For four hours, she compared contracts across six countries.
French shipping insurance.
German equipment rentals.
Russian warehouse storage.
Arabic customs consulting.
The invoices appeared unrelated.
They weren’t.
Someone had been hiding duplicate payments by changing languages and descriptions.
By midnight, Lucy had a number.
“Two point seven million dollars.”
Enzo stared at her.
“Missing?”
“Redirected.”
Dante’s expression became stone.
“To whom?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Enzo stood.
“I’ll bring accounting.”
“No,” Lucy said.
Both men looked at her.
“If accounting is involved, you’ll warn them.”
Enzo frowned.
“If accounting isn’t involved?”
“Then waiting six hours won’t hurt them.”
Dante studied her.
“She’s right.”
Enzo sighed.
“I liked her better when she carried coffee.”
Lucy looked at him.
“No, you liked knowing what box to put me in.”
Enzo stared at her.
Then laughed.
“Okay. Fair.”
The following morning, Dante called a closed meeting.
Only four people attended.
Dante.
Enzo.
Lucy.
And Vincent Hale, the Moretti organization’s chief financial officer.
Vincent was sixty, polished, silver-haired, and offended by Lucy’s presence before she spoke.
“This is highly irregular.”
Dante sat at the head of the table.
“You’re concerned about irregularities?”
Vincent hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Excellent.”
Dante pushed the invoices across.
“Explain those.”
Vincent reviewed them.
His face barely changed.
Lucy noticed his thumb.
It stopped moving when he reached the German invoice.
Just once.
Enough.
“These are subcontracting differences.”
Lucy spoke.
“They aren’t.”
Vincent looked at her.
“You’re the translator.”
“Yes.”
“So translate.”
“I did. That’s why you have a problem.”
His mouth tightened.
“You don’t understand our accounting structure.”
“Then explain why six vendors in four countries share the same beneficiary bank.”
Silence.
Enzo slowly turned toward Vincent.
Dante said, “Answer her.”
Vincent closed the folder.
“I would need time.”
Lucy leaned forward.
“You’ve had six years.”
Vincent’s eyes flashed.
Dante noticed.
“Give him the time.”
Lucy looked at Dante sharply.
But his expression told her to wait.
Vincent stood.
“I’ll have a report tomorrow.”
He left.
The moment the doors closed, Lucy turned on Dante.
“You let him leave.”
“Yes.”
“He knows we found it.”
“Yes.”
“So now he can destroy evidence.”
Dante looked toward Enzo.
“Which is why Enzo copied his servers twenty minutes before the meeting.”
Lucy paused.
Enzo smiled.
“You’re not the only one who listens.”
For the first time, Lucy smiled back.
That night, Enzo arrived at Dante’s estate carrying a hard drive.
“We found the beneficiary.”
Dante stood.
“Who?”
Enzo looked toward Lucy.
“Felix.”
Her smile disappeared.
“What?”
“Not directly. A company owned by his brother.”
Lucy’s stomach tightened.
Felix’s mistranslation had almost sent twelve men into a police operation.
Now money linked to him was disappearing through foreign invoices.
Dante’s voice hardened.
“Where is he?”
“Gone.”
“When?”
“Three hours ago.”
Lucy closed her eyes.
“He knew.”
Dante looked at her.
“Knew what?”
“That I could connect the contracts.”
Enzo’s phone rang.
He answered.
His face changed.
“What?”
Lucy watched him.
Enzo lowered the phone.
“Calderon warehouse just caught fire.”
Dante stood.
“Evidence?”
“Probably gone.”
Lucy stared at the invoices.
“No.”
Dante looked at her.
“No what?”
“Felix didn’t burn it because we found the money.”
She tapped the contracts.
“He burned it because there’s something worse.”
Dante’s eyes sharpened.
“How do you know?”
“Because thieves destroy evidence after they’ve been caught.”
She looked toward the windows.
May you like
“Felix started destroying evidence before we understood what he stole.”
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