Chapter 7 - The Right Hand
Tomas did not reach for his weapon.
That saved him.
Santiago’s hand had already moved beneath his jacket.
Ruby saw it.
“So this is how your family solves everything?”
Santiago ignored her.
“Tomas.”
“I read the same line you did.”
“You sit at my right hand.”
“So does Matteo at council meetings.”
Santiago stared.
Tomas continued.
“And Carlo DeLuca.”
“And your attorney.”
“And anyone important enough to get the seat.”
Ruby folded Owen’s letter.
“He didn’t name anyone because he wasn’t sure.”
Santiago looked at her.
“You knew this for three years?”
“I knew someone close to you was compromised.”
“That is why Sophia made me promise not to contact you directly.”
Sophia signed quickly.
Ruby translated.
“She says every time she tried something new, Matteo knew.”
“What do you mean?”
“She hid a note behind a painting.”
“It disappeared.”
“She refused medication once.”
“Matteo came home early.”
“She tried to use the library computer.”
“Dr. Voss called within twenty minutes.”
Santiago felt his skin crawl.
His house had not been a fortress.
It had been an observation room.
Tomas cleared his throat.
“There’s a way to find out who was leaking.”
Santiago looked at him.
“We feed different information to different people.”
Ruby nodded.
“A canary trap.”
Tomas glanced at her.
“You really were only a maid?”
“My brother was a network technician.”
“He thought paranoia was a hobby.”
For the first time, Tomas smiled at her.
Santiago did not.
“What information?”
Sophia signed.
Ruby watched, then slowly smiled.
“She has an idea.”
The next afternoon Santiago called Matteo into his office.
“I’m sending Sophia to Boston.”
Matteo’s expression barely changed.
“For what?”
“New specialists.”
“Which hospital?”
“Brigham.”
That was lie number one.
Two hours later Santiago told Carlo DeLuca, his chief lieutenant, that Sophia was being evaluated at Northwestern.
Lie number two.
He told his family attorney, Paul Mercer, that the appointment was in Cleveland.
Lie number three.
Tomas was told nothing.
Ruby stayed beside Sophia.
By midnight, Dr. Voss made a mistake.
He called a private medical concierge in Boston and asked whether Sophia Moretti had been scheduled.
Matteo’s lie.
Santiago listened to the recorded call twice.
Then a third time.
He should have felt triumph.
Instead, he felt sick.
Matteo had been family before Santiago understood the word.
He remembered being eight years old, sitting on Matteo’s shoulders at a Cubs game.
Seventeen, learning how to negotiate his first union contract.
Thirty-one, standing beside his father’s coffin while Matteo whispered, “You are not alone.”
It had been true.
Just not in the way Santiago thought.
That evening Matteo came to dinner.
Sophia sat across from him.
Ruby served soup because remaining “the maid” was still the best cover they had.
Matteo smiled at Sophia.
“I hear your brother wants to send you away again.”
Santiago’s spoon stopped halfway to his mouth.
He had told Matteo the Boston lie less than twelve hours earlier.
Sophia’s hands remained beneath the table.
Ruby stood behind her chair.
Matteo continued.
“You don’t need another hospital, sweetheart.”
His voice was warm.
Gentle.
Almost fatherly.
“You need peace.”
Sophia looked at him.
Then slowly lifted her hands.
She signed one sentence.
Matteo’s face did not change because he did not understand ASL.
Ruby did.
Santiago looked at her.
“What did she say?”
Ruby’s voice was calm.
“She said she remembers the black phone.”
Matteo dropped his spoon.
It hit the china plate with a sharp crack.
For the first time in seven years, Santiago watched his uncle lose control.
Only for a second.
But Sophia saw it.
So did Ruby.
So did Tomas at the far end of the room.
Matteo recovered immediately.
“What black phone?”
Sophia smiled.
Not kindly.
Matteo stood.
“I think I’ve lost my appetite.”
He left without dessert.
Ten minutes later, Santiago’s security system lit up.
An unauthorized vehicle had entered the service road behind the mansion.
Tomas checked the camera.
A white medical transport van was coming toward the house.
The paperwork attached to its gate authorization stated one patient name.
Sophia Moretti.
And one destination.
A private psychiatric facility in Wisconsin.
May you like
The transfer order had been signed by Matteo three hours before dinner.
