Chapter 6 - The Doctor in the PhotographBy sunrise, the estate had become a fortress.
Every entrance was guarded. Every employee had been questioned. Caleb's team had traced the attackers' vehicles to a warehouse on the outskirts of Chicago, where they found three burned cars and a telephone containing no usable fingerprints.
My brother had disappeared.
For a man who usually announced his schedule to half the city, Dante had become remarkably difficult to locate.
Caleb stood across from me in the study while a forensic team examined the bullet holes.
"There's something you need to see," he said.
He placed a tablet on my desk.
The screen showed a photograph taken outside a motel in Indiana six months earlier. A man in a baseball cap stood beside a dark sedan, his face turned partially toward the camera.
The image was grainy.
But I knew the jawline.
The posture.
The way he held his left hand slightly lower than his right.
Dr. Victor Bell.
The man I had been told was dead.
"Where did you find this?"
"On a backup server connected to the hospital's old security system. Bell checked into the motel under a false name. The date is six months before the official record of his death."
"Show me the death record."
Caleb swiped the screen.
A police report stated that Bell had died in a boating accident on Lake Michigan. His body had supposedly been identified by dental records.
"Who identified him?"
"No family members. The identification was approved by a private investigator employed by Dante's legal office."
I slowly leaned back.
"Find the investigator."
"Already did. He died in a car crash last year."
"How convenient."
Caleb nodded.
"There's more. Bell made monthly payments to a woman named Margaret Hale. The payments continued until three months ago."
"Address?"
He gave it to me.
A small apartment building in Evanston.
I looked toward the guest suite hallway.
"Keep Nora and Maisie here. Double the guards. I want the girl nowhere near Dante."
"Understood."
I headed for the door.
Caleb caught my arm.
"You're going alone?"
"No."
"Then who's going with you?"
I glanced at him.
"You are."
An hour later, we stood outside Margaret Hale's apartment.
She was seventy-three, with silver hair and a cane. When she opened the door, she looked at Caleb first, then at me.
Her face went white.
"You," she whispered.
"You know me?"
She tried to close the door.
I stopped it with my palm.
"I'm not here to hurt you."
"That's what men like you always say."
"I need to know what happened to Dr. Bell."
The woman began shaking.
"Please leave."
I took the photograph from my pocket.
"Did he survive the accident?"
Her eyes fixed on the image.
Then she sat down heavily on a small chair near the entrance.
"Victor never went on a boat," she said. "He hated water. He couldn't swim."
"Where is he?"
"He went away."
"Where?"
She looked at me with an expression I couldn't decipher.
"Somewhere the dead are allowed to live."
I crouched in front of her.
"Mrs. Hale, a child is in danger. Someone tried to kill her last night. If you know anything that can protect her, tell me."
The woman closed her eyes.
"His name is Nathan Cole now. He works at a private nursing home outside Milwaukee. But you must understand something, Mr. Marchetti."
She opened her eyes again.
"Victor Bell didn't steal your daughter because he wanted money."
"Then why?"
"Because the baby wasn't the only thing Elena knew."
She reached for a drawer, pulled out a small envelope, and handed it to me.
Inside was a photograph of Elena standing in front of a church.
She held a baby in one arm.
Beside her stood Dante.
Both were smiling.
On the back, Elena had written a date.
The day before she died.
Caleb leaned over my shoulder.
"That's impossible."
I stared at the photograph.
Dante had told me he hadn't visited the hospital.
He had told me he hadn't seen Elena that week.
He had lied about everything.
Mrs. Hale clutched my sleeve.
"Your wife believed your brother was stealing from the family. She planned to give you evidence. Victor helped her arrange a meeting."
"Where?"
"The church on the south side."
I stood.
"Why did she never arrive?"
Mrs. Hale's voice fell to a whisper.
"Because the car she was riding in was sabotaged."
I looked at the photograph again.
Dante's smile seemed to mock me from the past.
May you like
Then Mrs. Hale said something that made the room go cold.
"Your wife wasn't alone in the car, Mr. Marchetti."
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