Chapter 7 - By 7:00 a.m., Valorie Logistics had become a fortress.
The public lobby remained officially closed because of an alleged electrical problem.
Employees received messages instructing them to work remotely.
The loading facilities operated beneath emergency protocols.
Every entrance required two separate credentials.
Every vehicle leaving company property was searched.
Roman’s organization had entered a state resembling war.
Tessa sat inside the executive conference room with six computer monitors arranged before her.
She had not slept.
She did not feel tired.
Fear and concentration had created something cleaner than energy.
Across the room, Roman stood beside the windows speaking quietly with Carmine and two captains.
They were discussing Saranov’s possible safe houses.
Tessa ignored them.
Violence would not solve the central question.
Someone had been stealing from Roman.
Not simply merchandise.
Information.
Schedules.
Internal security procedures.
Enough material for Viktor to know the existence of Tessa’s telephone less than two weeks after Roman gave it to her.
That meant the breach reached high.
Very high.
Tessa opened the personnel database.
1,284 active employees.
143 possessed access to sensitive information.
27 could see warehouse schedules.
11 could view both transportation and security records.
Five reported directly to Roman.
Carmine.
Matteo.
Tessa herself.
Chief financial officer Benedict Shaw.
And director of corporate security Adrian Keller.
Tessa stared at the names.
Trust was not evidence.
That lesson had nearly killed her.
She created a private spreadsheet.
Roman approached several minutes later.
“Nothing?”
“Too much.”
Tessa did not look away from the monitors.
“The organization produces enormous amounts of data.”
“Every movement generates records.”
“Payroll.”
“Fuel.”
“Vehicle maintenance.”
“Security.”
“Insurance.”
“Communications.”
She continued.
“If someone has been extracting information for years, I cannot simply search for a missing number.”
“I need to identify behavior.”
Roman pulled out a chair.
He sat beside her.
“What do you require?”
“Access to everything.”
“You have it.”
“No.”
Tessa finally looked at him.
“I possess corporate access.”
“I require criminal access.”
Roman’s face became unreadable.
“Cash books.”
“Unregistered properties.”
“Payments to government officials.”
“Private surveillance.”
“Accounts Carmine manages outside the company.”
She held his gaze.
“Everything.”
Roman leaned backward.
“That information exists for a reason.”
“Yes.”
Tessa’s tone remained dry.
“To prevent people from seeing what you are doing.”
She touched the keyboard.
“I am asking to see what you are doing.”
Roman remained silent.
Tessa understood the significance.
The black telephone had been symbolic.
This was different.
Roman’s hidden records contained enough information to imprison half the people who worked for him.
Possibly enough to destroy political careers.
Businesses.
Judges.
Police officers.
The entire structure.
“You said I belonged to all of it.”
Tessa spoke quietly.
Roman looked toward her.
Then he removed a small metal key from the chain beneath his shirt.
He placed it over the table.
“Sublevel 3.”
“Private archive.”
“No network connection.”
Tessa picked up the key.
Roman continued.
“Only Carmine and I enter.”
“Now me.”
A pause.
“Now you.”
They used the private elevator.
Sublevel 3 did not appear over the controls.
Roman inserted another key behind a concealed panel.
The elevator descended beneath the parking structure.
When the doors opened, Tessa expected concrete and filing cabinets.
Instead, she found a clean underground office.
Temperature controlled.
No windows.
Two computers.
Rows of physical ledgers.
A large steel safe occupied one wall.
“This is your real company.”
Tessa said.
Roman stood behind her.
“Yes.”
Tessa walked toward the shelves.
Dates covered the ledger spines.
Some extended back 15 years.
Before Roman controlled the organization.
“You kept Salvatore’s records.”
“I keep everything.”
Tessa smiled faintly.
“I know.”
For the next six hours, she worked.
Roman left twice.
He returned with coffee the first time.
Food the second.
Tessa barely noticed.
She moved backward through the organization’s history.
Donovan’s theft.
Hodges.
Pier 41.
The Sullivan syndicate.
She followed transactions rather than names.
Money rarely lied.
People did constantly.
At 1:18 p.m., she found the first anomaly.
“Roman.”
He looked up from the telephone.
Tessa pointed toward an old ledger.
“Who is M?”
Roman approached.
The entry dated 8 years earlier documented a payment of $75,000.
Recipient: M.
Purpose: Consulting.
Two months later, another.
$60,000.
Then $90,000.
The payments continued irregularly.
Roman frowned.
“I do not know.”
Tessa looked at him.
“You approved them.”
His signature appeared at the bottom of several pages.
Roman took the ledger.
“I approved monthly totals.”
“Salvatore’s accountant maintained individual entries during the first years.”
“Who?”
“Elias Moretti.”
“Where is he?”
“Dead.”
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
“Natural causes?”
Roman’s expression answered.
Tessa sighed.
“Of course not.”
“He worked with another family after leaving us.”
“That was considered betrayal.”
“Convenient.”
Roman’s gaze hardened.
“You believe I killed the only man who could answer your question.”
“I believe your organization has an unfortunate habit of destroying historical documentation in human form.”
Roman almost smiled.
Almost.
Tessa continued searching.
She discovered M inside another ledger.
Then another.
Payments had continued even after Elias Moretti’s death.
Someone else inherited them.
The amounts increased.
$200,000.
$450,000.
Last year, M received $1.2 million.
Tessa’s pulse changed.
“Roman.”
He moved beside her.
“These are not payments.”
She pointed.
“They are transfers disguised as expenses.”
“From us?”
“No.”
Tessa shook her head.
“Through us.”
She pulled three ledgers together.
“Look.”
Funds entered Valorie-controlled shell companies.
They remained for several days.
Then portions disappeared under fabricated expenses.
The remaining money moved toward legitimate operations.
Roman stared.
“Money laundering?”
“Not ours.”
Tessa’s mind accelerated.
“Someone is using your organization to clean outside funds.”
“Without my knowledge?”
“That appears to be the point.”
Roman became dangerously still.
“How much?”
“I do not know.”
Tessa began entering numbers.
One year.
Two.
Five.
Eight.
Her fingers moved faster.
The total grew.
Roman watched.
$18 million.
$42 million.
$76 million.
Finally, Tessa stopped.
“Approximately $113 million.”
Silence filled the underground office.
Roman’s expression became terrifyingly calm.
“Someone moved $113 million through my organization.”
“Over 8 years.”
“And I did not know.”
“You knew individual transactions.”
Tessa pointed toward his signatures.
“You simply did not know their purpose.”
Roman looked toward the ledgers.
That truth hurt him more.
He had approved his own exploitation.
Tessa continued.
“Who had authority to prepare monthly summaries for your signature?”
“Financial officers.”
“How many?”
“Three over the relevant period.”
“Names.”
“Benedict Shaw.”
Roman counted.
“Before him, Isaac Bell.”
“Before Bell, Dominic Russo.”
“Bell died.”
“I remember.”
Roman nodded.
“Heart attack.”
“Russo?”
“Retired.”
“Where?”
“Florida.”
Tessa stared.
“Still alive?”
Roman gave her a flat look.
“Contrary to your current opinion, some former employees survive retirement.”
“Wonderful.”
Tessa closed the ledger.
“We speak with him.”
Carmine entered the archive 20 minutes later.
Roman had called him.
He listened while Tessa explained.
His reaction was different from Roman’s.
Roman became colder when angry.
Carmine became louder.
“One hundred thirteen million dollars?”
He stared at the ledger.
“Through our accounts?”
“Yes.”
“And no one saw this?”
“I saw it.”
Tessa replied.
Carmine looked at her.
“Today.”
Tessa added.
Roman leaned against the desk.
“Find Dominic Russo.”
Carmine removed his telephone.
Before he could call, Tessa spoke.
“Do not use company communications.”
Both men looked at her.
“If someone inside the organization is reporting to Saranov, they may monitor internal contacts.”
Carmine slowly lowered the device.
Tessa continued.
“We behave as though we discovered nothing.”
“Keep security focused on Lucia.”
“Make Saranov believe Roman is reacting emotionally.”
Roman’s mouth flattened.
“I am reacting emotionally.”
“Yes.”
Tessa looked toward him.
“That is why it will be convincing.”
Carmine coughed into his fist.
Roman ignored him.
Tessa took the encrypted telephone from her pocket.
“We use outside channels.”
“Who?”
Roman asked.
“Someone no longer connected to the organization.”
Tessa tapped the ledger.
“Dominic Russo.”
Roman studied her.
“You want to contact a former accountant who may be involved in stealing $113 million.”
“Yes.”
“And tell no one.”
“Yes.”
“He could be the traitor.”
“Yes.”
Roman stepped closer.
“Your plan contains a concerning amount of the word yes.”
Tessa met his gaze.
“Then you should be pleased.”
“I am usually paid to say no.”
That evening, Dominic Russo answered his private home telephone inside Naples, Florida.
Tessa used a prepaid device purchased by a courier who did not know Roman.
“Mr. Russo?”
Silence.
“Who is this?”
“My name is Tessa Quinn.”
The line went dead.
Tessa stared.
Roman stood across the room.
“That went well.”
She dialed again.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Roman reached for his coat.
“We are going to Florida.”
“No.”
Tessa opened another computer.
“He hung up because he recognizes my name.”
Roman stopped.
“That is more useful than an answer.”
“How?”
“Because I have never met Dominic Russo.”
Tessa looked toward him.
“I joined Valorie Logistics 3 years ago.”
“He retired 7 years ago.”
Roman understood.
“He should not know who you are.”
“Exactly.”
Tessa looked toward the telephone.
“Someone told him.”
Roman’s eyes darkened.
The encrypted device inside Tessa’s pocket began ringing.
Both of them froze.
Tessa answered.
Viktor’s voice came immediately.
“You learn quickly.”
Tessa did not react.
“Where is Lucia?”
“Safe.”
“Prove it.”
A few seconds passed.
Lucia’s voice exploded through the connection.
“Roman, if you give that bastard anything, I will haunt you until—”
The connection changed.
Viktor returned.
“She remains energetic.”
Tessa almost smiled.
Roman did not.
“What do you want?”
Tessa asked.
“I already told you.”
“You told Roman to bring you the secretary.”
“That was theatrical.”
Viktor replied.
“What I actually want is a conversation.”
“With me?”
“With the person who finally noticed what Roman could not.”
Tessa’s eyes moved toward the ledger.
Viktor knew.
Of course he knew.
“Tell me something.”
Tessa’s voice became cool.
“What does the letter M represent?”
Silence.
For the first time, Viktor did not answer immediately.
Roman’s attention sharpened.
Then Viktor laughed.
Not politely.
Genuinely.
“Excellent.”
He whispered.
“You found him.”
Tessa felt cold.
“Him?”
Viktor continued.
“I will send an address.”
“One person.”
“You.”
Roman shook his head immediately.
Tessa ignored him.
“If I refuse?”
“Then Lucia remains my guest.”
“And if Roman follows?”
“The meeting disappears.”
Viktor’s voice lowered.
“You want the truth, Ms. Quinn.”
“I can hear it.”
“You want to know how a man as careful as Roman Valorie failed to notice $113 million moving through his own empire.”
Tessa remained silent.
Viktor delivered the final sentence slowly.
“Come alone, and I will introduce you to the person Roman has trusted longer than anyone alive.”
The connection ended.
A message appeared.
One address.
Tessa read it.
Roman took the telephone from her hand.
“No.”
She looked at him.
“No.”
Roman repeated.
“You are not going.”
Tessa’s expression remained calm.
“Then we need another way to make Viktor believe I did.”
Roman stared at her.
Slowly, a dangerous understanding entered his eyes.
“You already have a plan.”
May you like
Tessa looked toward the address.
“I have the beginning of one.”
