Chapter 5 - THE COUSIN WHO REMEMBERED
The room seemed to close around Matteo.
For years, Salvatore had trusted his cousin with the family business. Matteo had managed shipping schedules, handled employee disputes, and protected the legitimate company from people who wanted to exploit its reputation.
He had also been present at Paolo's funeral.
He had stood beside Salvatore in the rain and promised that the truth would eventually come out.
Now his name appeared on the access log from the night Paolo died.
“I went to Pier Nineteen because Paolo called me,” Matteo said.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of whom?”
Matteo glanced at Lucía, then at Elena.
“I don't know if I should say this without a lawyer.”
“Then call one,” Salvatore replied. “But don't expect me to pretend this is nothing.”
Matteo lowered himself into a chair.
“Paolo had discovered the property scheme. He wanted to confront Richard Vale and Adrian. He asked me to meet him at the docks because he thought someone was following him.”
“And you went?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I arrived after the first explosion. The warehouse was burning. I saw Paolo near the loading bay.”
Salvatore's hands curled into fists.
“You saw him alive?”
“For a few seconds.”
“Why didn't you tell the investigators?”
Matteo's eyes filled.
“Because I saw Richard Vale leaving the building. He told me the police would blame the entire family if they learned what Paolo had discovered. He said the company would collapse, hundreds of employees would lose their jobs, and your father's legacy would be destroyed.”
“So you stayed silent.”
“I was twenty-four years old. I was terrified.”
Salvatore stood and walked to the window.
For eleven years, he had believed Matteo was grieving beside him.
Now he understood that grief and fear could live inside the same person.
“Did Richard cause the explosion?” he asked.
“I don't know. I never saw him touch anything. But he had a key to the building, and he knew Paolo was coming.”
“Did Adrian survive?”
“I didn't see him that night.”
“Then why did you keep this secret?”
Matteo's voice cracked.
“Because Richard told me that if I spoke, he'd make sure the police found records linking our company to the property transfers. He said the evidence would look like Paolo's work and that you would be blamed for protecting him.”
Elena intervened.
“Matteo, your statement may be important, but you should give it formally with independent legal counsel. We need to distinguish what you personally witnessed from what someone told you.”
Matteo nodded.
“I understand.”
Salvatore turned back.
“Until this is resolved, you're not handling company records. You will cooperate with Elena and the investigators, and you will not contact Richard Vale.”
“I won't.”
“I'm not forgiving you today.”
Matteo lowered his head.
“I don't expect you to.”
That night, Lucía found Mia sitting on the carpet in the guest bedroom, drawing with colored pencils.
The child had drawn a house with a blue roof, a yellow sun, and three people holding hands.
“Who are they?” Lucía asked.
“Me, Mommy, and Mr. Salvatore.”
Lucía sat beside her.
“And why is Mr. Salvatore in our picture?”
Mia shrugged.
“He makes the bad man go away.”
Lucía's throat tightened.
She wanted to tell her daughter that adults could not always make frightening people disappear. She wanted to teach her that safety was more complicated than a powerful man standing between her and danger.
But Mia was three.
She deserved a little hope.
“Mr. Salvatore is trying to help,” Lucía said. “But we still have to be careful.”
Mia nodded solemnly.
Then she held up another drawing.
This one showed a man with a large nose and a black hat.
“Who is that?” Lucía asked.
“The man from the old house.”
Lucía stared at the drawing.
Víctor had never worn a hat when she saw him.
But Rafael had.
Her husband owned a dark wool cap he wore during winter. Mia had often played with it before he died.
“Sweetheart, is that Víctor?”
Mia shook her head.
“No. This is the man who talked to Daddy.”
Lucía felt a chill.
“What man?”
“The man who came before the bad man.”
Mia pointed to the drawing.
“He told Daddy not to go outside. Daddy said he had to help the people in the houses.”
Lucía knelt in front of her.
“Do you remember when that happened?”
Mia frowned.
“When I was little.”
“You're still little, sweetheart.”
Mia considered that.
“Smaller.”
Lucía hugged her.
Her daughter had been barely two when Rafael died. Her memories were fragments—voices, faces, familiar objects.
But one detail was clear.
A man had warned Rafael not to go out.
Someone had known about the meeting at Pier Nineteen before the fire.
Lucía carried the drawing to Salvatore.
He studied it for a long time.
“Do you recognize him?” she asked.
“Not from this picture.”
“Could it be Richard Vale?”
“Possibly. But we can't identify a person from a child's drawing alone.”
He placed the paper in a protective folder.
“Let's keep it with the other evidence. It may help someone ask the right questions.”
For the first time, Lucía understood that Salvatore was trying to control his anger, not simply direct it toward the people he suspected.
He was learning to let the truth arrive before judgment.
That made her trust him more.
At 10:32 p.m., Elena called.
She had located Richard Vale through public records and confirmed that he had served as a director for two companies involved in the property transfers.
She had also found a recent payment from a company linked to Víctor Salas to an account associated with a private security contractor.
The payment had been made three days earlier.
“Someone is paying to locate Lucía,” Elena said. “We need to treat that as a serious safety concern and report it.”
Salvatore looked toward the hallway leading to the guest rooms.
“Can you get us a protective order?”
“We can explore legal protections and contact the appropriate authorities, but a court order isn't immediate physical security. I recommend that Lucía and Mia remain somewhere secure while the investigation proceeds.”
“They'll stay here.”
“Then ensure your security staff follow lawful procedures, document every incident, and avoid confronting anyone on suspicion alone.”
After the call, Salvatore ordered a review of the estate's access logs.
The results arrived shortly after midnight.
The person who had approached Lucía's apartment had used a temporary access code issued to a maintenance contractor.
The contractor claimed he had not entered the estate that night.
His records showed otherwise.
A vehicle linked to the contractor had stopped outside a storage facility in Queens, where Víctor Salas had rented a unit under a false name.
The police were notified.
But when investigators reached the facility the next morning, the unit was empty.
Except for one object left on the concrete floor.
A framed photograph of Lucía and Rafael on their wedding day.
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On the back, someone had written:
THE NEXT TIME, WE WON'T ASK FOR THE PAPERS.
