Chapter 5 - The screen continued to glow inside the plastic bag.
Ask Vincent who received the bullet.
No one moved.
The hospital corridor seemed to hold its breath around us—the muted footsteps, the distant elevator, the soft pulse of monitors behind the operating-room doors.
I looked at Vincent.
He had gone very still.
“Who received the bullet?” I asked.
His eyes remained on Gabriel’s phone.
“I don’t know.”
Luca’s expression hardened. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
“Because I have.”
The answer was quiet enough that it carried more weight than an accusation.
I stepped closer. “Vincent, Gabriel is in surgery. Whatever happened to the bullet may explain why three people have been lying for weeks. If you know something, now is the time to say it.”
He pressed his fingers against his forehead.
“When the bullet was removed, Vale told me it had been destroyed.”
“Destroyed where?”
“He said the hospital disposed of it with the surgical waste.”
“But you didn’t believe him.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I saw it.”
Luca stared at him. “You saw the bullet?”
“Not at the hospital. At the clinic.”
Vincent looked toward the operating-room doors, as though he could see through them to Gabriel.
“The night of the shooting, Gabriel was unconscious when we brought him to Vale. The bullet had passed through his shoulder, but Vale said the fragment he recovered was unusual. He wouldn’t explain why.”
“You were there?” I asked.
“I arrived after Gabriel.”
“And you watched the surgery?”
“No. I was in the waiting room.”
“Then how did you see the bullet?”
“Vale came out carrying a small evidence container. He said it was the fragment. I asked him to give it to me.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought it might prove the shooting had been planned.”
Luca folded his arms. “And did he give it to you?”
Vincent’s expression tightened.
“No. He said he needed to examine it first.”
“Did he?”
“I don’t know.”
“What happened afterward?”
“Gabriel woke briefly. He was disoriented and in pain. Vale told us the bullet had carried a foreign object into the wound.”
“The capsule.”
“Possibly.”
“But the capsule found in the lumbar scar wasn’t attached to him,” I said. “It was placed there temporarily.”
Vincent nodded.
“Vale may have used it to convince us the real device had been removed.”
“Why would he do that?”
“To make us stop looking.”
The answer was logical. It was also incomplete.
“Who received the bullet?” I repeated.
Vincent closed his eyes.
“There was a courier.”
Luca took a step forward. “What courier?”
“I don’t know his name.”
“Vincent.”
“I never met him before that night. Vale arranged for someone to collect the evidence container from the clinic.”
“When?”
“Two days after the shooting.”
“And you let him?”
“I didn’t know until afterward.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because I found the delivery log.”
Vincent reached inside his coat and removed a folded sheet of paper. He held it out to me rather than Luca.
I read the handwritten entry.
Private transfer. M-17. Recipient: H. Bell.
Beneath it was a date and a signature.
“Harold Bell,” I said.
Luca’s face changed.
“Who is that?”
“Gabriel’s former attorney,” Vincent replied. “He represented my uncle for twenty years.”
“Former?” I asked.
“He died last month.”
“Before or after the shooting?”
“Before.”
The corridor seemed to tilt slightly.
“Then why would a dead man receive the bullet?”
“He didn’t.”
Vincent looked at the paper.
“Someone used his name.”
Luca took it from me and examined the signature.
“Where did you find this?”
“In Vale’s office.”
“When?”
“The night before Gabriel was shot.”
Luca looked up sharply.
“You were in Vale’s office before the shooting?”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me?”
“You weren’t listening to me.”
“I was trying to keep Gabriel alive.”
“You were trying to keep him from discovering that his own family had been moving money behind his back.”
“You moved the money,” Luca said.
“To protect the investigation.”
“You stole from him.”
Vincent’s eyes flashed—not with anger, but with shame.
“Yes.”
The admission silenced them both.
I looked through the operating-room window. A nurse moved quickly past the glass, then disappeared behind a partition.
“Where is the bullet now?” I asked.
Vincent’s voice lowered.
“I think it was sent to a private archive.”
“Whose?”
“Bell’s.”
“Bell is dead.”
“His firm isn’t.”
Luca looked at the paper again.
“Bell’s son took over the practice.”
“Did he know what was in the transfer?”
“Perhaps.”
“Then why didn’t you go after him?”
“Because I couldn’t prove anything. And because every time I got close, someone warned me to stop.”
“Who?”
Vincent’s mouth tightened.
“People connected to my uncle’s old business.”
The answer was vague, but I believed that he believed it.
“What about Vale?” I asked. “Where does he fit?”
Vincent looked at the operating-room doors.
“Vale’s father was the business partner Gabriel’s father ordered killed. Not murdered directly, but ruined. His clinic was destroyed, his reputation destroyed, and he died believing the Moretti family had taken everything from him.”
“Vale spent twelve years seeking revenge?”
“No. He spent twelve years building a case.”
“That sounds almost reasonable.”
“It was, at first.”
Vincent’s eyes lowered.
“He wanted proof. He wanted the ledger. He wanted to expose Gabriel’s father. Then he discovered the evidence was hidden in the family’s medical records.”
“By whom?”
“Gabriel’s father.”
I thought of the silver capsule, the recording, the old scar.
“Why put evidence in a person?”
“He didn’t put it in Gabriel,” Vincent said. “He put it in himself.”
Luca frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
“After the business partner died, Gabriel’s father became afraid someone would find the ledger and use it against the family. He had a device implanted beneath an old surgical scar. It contained a key to the ledger and a recording of his confession.”
“And when he died?”
“His body was cremated.”
The significance settled over us.
“The capsule was removed before the cremation,” I said.
Vincent nodded.
“By Vale.”
“How?”
“Vale was the family physician. He handled the medical examination. He took the capsule and hid it.”
“Then how did it end up inside Gabriel?”
“I don’t know.”
The hospital phone began ringing again.
This time Luca answered it.
“Ferraro.”
His expression changed as he listened.
“Where?”
He glanced toward me.
“Stay there. Don’t touch anything. We’re coming.”
He ended the call.
“What happened?” I asked.
“The private archive was opened tonight.”
“By whom?”
“The security guard saw a man leaving with a medical evidence box. He identified him as Dr. Adrian Vale.”
Vincent’s face tightened.
“He has the bullet.”
“Apparently.”
“Then we have to find him.”
Luca looked toward the operating room.
“We can’t leave Gabriel.”
“I’ll stay,” I said.
Both men turned to me.
“You?” Luca asked.
“Gabriel needs someone here when he wakes up. You two need to recover the evidence before Vale disappears.”
Vincent shook his head. “This is dangerous.”
“I’m aware.”
“No. You don’t understand. If Vale believes the recording is still inside Gabriel—”
“Then he’ll come here,” I finished.
The possibility had already occurred to me.
I looked through the glass at the nurses, the anesthesiologist, and the closed surgical doors.
“That’s why you need hospital security notified now. No private visitors. No one enters Gabriel’s room without Dr. Reed’s authorization.”
Luca hesitated.
“You’re giving orders.”
“I’m giving sensible instructions. There’s a difference.”
A faint smile touched his mouth for the first time that night.
“I’m beginning to see why he listened to you.”
“He didn’t listen. He ran out of energy to argue.”
“That may be the same thing with Gabriel.”
Vincent turned toward the elevator, but I stopped him.
“Before you go, tell me the truth about the money.”
He looked back.
“What?”
“The accounts you moved. Where did the money go?”
“To people who could help find the ledger.”
“Was any of it yours?”
“No.”
“Did you intend to return it?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell Gabriel?”
“Because I thought he would see only betrayal.”
“Would he have?”
Vincent gave a tired laugh.
“Gabriel sees betrayal everywhere when he is afraid.”
“And you?”
“I hide it beneath explanations.”
The honesty in his voice softened something in me.
“You need to tell him yourself,” I said. “Not because it will make everything better. Because he deserves the truth from the person who made the decision.”
Vincent nodded.
“If he wakes up.”
“He will.”
“You sound certain.”
“I’m choosing to be.”
His eyes met mine.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For speaking to him as though he were a patient instead of a legend.”
I glanced through the glass.
“He’s neither. He’s a man who has been sick for too long.”
The operating-room doors opened.
Dr. Reed stepped out, removing her cap.
Every muscle in Luca’s body seemed to tense.
“How is he?” I asked.
“He’s stable,” she said. “The infection was extensive, but we drained it and began antibiotics. We also removed the object near the shoulder.”
“The second capsule?”
“No.”
My stomach tightened.
“It was a fragment of metal,” she continued. “Possibly part of the original bullet. The capsule wasn’t in the tract.”
“Then where is it?”
“Embedded in the old lumbar incision.”
Vincent looked toward the evidence tray.
“The one from the back?”
Dr. Reed nodded. “It had been placed in the surgical wound, but not deeply. Whoever put it there wanted it to be found.”
“A decoy,” I said.
“Likely.”
“And the capsule from the bullet?”
“We haven’t found one.”
Vincent’s expression darkened.
May you like
“Then Vale still has it.”
Dr. Reed’s gaze moved between them.
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