Chapter 2 - The Cut Cable
The gala ended without officially ending.
Guests were moved into the opera house lobby under the explanation of an “equipment malfunction.”
Nobody believed it.
Clara stood beside Adrian near the ruined donor table while Marco examined the chandelier.
An engineer climbed down from a ladder.
His face was pale.
“This wasn't mechanical failure.”
Marco folded his arms.
“Explain.”
“The primary suspension connection was weakened manually.”
“Cut?”
“Partially.”
“And the safety cable?”
“Removed.”
Silence.
Adrian looked at Clara.
“You were right.”
“I wish I wasn't.”
Marco approached.
“Where did you learn to inspect chandeliers?”
“I didn't.”
“You recognized a failed suspension system from across a ballroom.”
“My father maintained theaters.”
“Name?”
“Thomas Hayes.”
Marco typed something into his phone.
Clara noticed.
“Are you investigating my father?”
“I'm investigating you.”
“I saved your boss.”
“That doesn't clear you.”
Clara laughed once.
“You think I sabotaged a chandelier, waited underneath it with a tray, then saved him?”
“I think coincidences are expensive.”
Adrian interrupted.
“Enough.”
Marco looked at him.
“Boss—”
“She stays.”
Clara folded her arms.
“I actually have a bus to catch.”
Adrian looked at her wet uniform.
“Someone attempted to kill me. You saw someone on the catwalk. Until we know who it was, you're a witness.”
“I'm also an hourly employee.”
“I'll compensate you.”
“That wasn't my point.”
“It usually is everyone's point.”
“Maybe that's your problem.”
Marco stared at her as though she'd insulted the Pope.
Adrian's expression remained unreadable.
“What did you see?”
“A flash.”
“Face?”
“No.”
“Clothing?”
“Dark.”
“Height?”
“Couldn't tell.”
“Direction?”
Clara pointed.
“West catwalk.”
Marco immediately spoke into his radio.
“Search west access.”
A voice answered.
“Already did. Empty.”
Clara frowned.
“Where does it lead?”
The engineer answered.
“Maintenance stairs, roof access and backstage fly system.”
“Then your person didn't leave through the ballroom.”
Marco looked at her.
“We know.”
“Do you?”
His jaw tightened.
Adrian stepped between them.
“Clara.”
“What?”
“Show me exactly what you saw.”
She took him to the service entrance.
“Here.”
Adrian stood where she had been.
Clara pointed.
“The chandelier rotated clockwise.”
“How much?”
“Maybe three degrees initially.”
Marco glanced at Adrian.
“She noticed three degrees?”
Clara ignored him.
“Then I saw the right chain lose tension.”
She pointed higher.
“And there was a flash there.”
Adrian followed her finger.
A camera was mounted near the molding.
“Marco.”
“I see it.”
“Footage.”
Marco called the surveillance room.
Nobody answered.
He called again.
Nothing.
Adrian's face changed.
“Go.”
Marco and two guards hurried away.
Clara watched them disappear.
“You think something happened upstairs.”
“Yes.”
“How can you tell?”
“Marco always answers me.”
“That wasn't Marco's phone.”
Adrian looked at her.
“The surveillance operator always answers Marco.”
A minute later, Marco's voice came through Adrian's phone.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“Surveillance room is empty.”
Adrian's expression hardened.
“Footage?”
“Last twenty-three minutes erased.”
Clara's stomach dropped.
Then she remembered something.
“The photographer.”
Adrian looked at her.
“What photographer?”
“Before the chandelier fell. There was a photographer near the staircase shooting upward because he was trying to get the chandelier behind the guests.”
Marco's voice came through the phone.
“Find him.”
Adrian looked at Clara.
“You notice everything?”
“No.”
“You noticed a failing chandelier, a man on the catwalk and a photographer's camera angle.”
“My father used to say people look at what they're told to look at.”
“And you?”
“I look where nobody else is looking.”
Adrian stared at her.
“That's a dangerous habit.”
“For you tonight, it was useful.”
A guard approached.
“Mr. Moretti.”
“What?”
“We found the photographer.”
“And?”
“He's gone.”
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
“Gone where?”
“Nobody knows.”
The guard handed him something.
“But he left his camera bag.”
Inside was no camera.
Only a white envelope.
Adrian opened it.
There were four words inside.
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED SEATED.
Clara read them.
Adrian slowly folded the note.
Marco returned.
“This wasn't just an assassination attempt.”
“No,” Adrian said.
His eyes moved toward Clara.
“They're watching the aftermath.”
Clara suddenly understood.
“Which means they know I moved you.”
Adrian nodded.
May you like
“And now they know your name.”
---
