Chapter 6 - The Housekeeper Becomes the Suspect
When Alessandro entered the east drawing room, Beatrice was already performing.
She stood near the fireplace with one hand pressed dramatically to her chest. Two uniformed police officers stood before her. Raffaele leaned against the piano as if the entire morning had bored him.
On the coffee table lay Sophia’s personnel file.
Beside it sat a small glass bottle.
Sophia stopped dead in the doorway.
“I’ve never seen that before.”
Beatrice turned slowly.
Her face was pale now, but her voice was perfect.
“Of course you haven’t, dear.”
Alessandro stepped between them.
“What is this?”
One officer cleared his throat. “Sir, Lady Beatrice called in a suspected poisoning. She says this substance was found in Mrs. Alvarez’s staff locker.”
Sophia shook her head. “No. No, I don’t have anything like that.”
Beatrice’s eyes glistened with fake tears.
“I didn’t want to believe it either. After all I did for her. I gave her employment when no one else would. But grief does terrible things to people.”
Emma clung to Sophia’s skirt.
“Mommy didn’t.”
Raffaele laughed softly.
Alessandro looked at him.
The laugh stopped.
The older officer looked uncomfortable. “We’ll need to take Mrs. Alvarez in for questioning.”
“No,” Alessandro said.
The officer blinked. “Sir, with respect—”
“With respect, this is my house. That bottle is planted evidence. The coffee sample is already secured. The child was abducted during a staged power outage. And I have video evidence linking Beatrice Duca and Raffaele Duca to the death of Sophia Alvarez’s husband.”
Silence.
Beatrice’s face changed.
Only for a second.
But the officers saw it.
Raffaele pushed away from the piano.
“That is a disgusting lie.”
Alessandro pulled the flash drive from his pocket.
“Would you like to watch it with them?”
Beatrice’s eyes fixed on the drive.
There it was.
Fear.
Not grief.
Not outrage.
Fear.
The younger officer turned toward her. “Lady Duca?”
Beatrice recovered quickly.
“My nephew is unwell. This morning’s incident has made him paranoid.”
Dr. Royce entered behind Alessandro.
“I tested the coffee myself. It was contaminated.”
The officer looked at her. “And you are?”
“Dr. Evelyn Royce. Licensed physician. Medical consultant to the Duca family for eighteen years.”
Matteo stepped in next.
“I witnessed Victor’s statement about the woman with red nails. I also recovered Lady Beatrice’s earring from the basement room where Emma Alvarez was found after being taken.”
Beatrice’s breathing sharpened.
Sophia stepped forward, holding Emma’s hand.
“My husband recorded what he saw at Duca Logistics before he died. He named them.”
Raffaele pointed at her.
“She’s lying.”
Emma suddenly spoke.
“No.”
Everyone looked down.
The tiny girl stared at Raffaele’s sleeve.
“You smell like the bad coffee too.”
The room went cold.
Raffaele’s face drained of color.
Alessandro turned to him slowly.
“What?”
Emma pointed.
“His coat. It smells like the cup.”
The younger officer moved first.
“Sir, please remove your jacket.”
Raffaele stepped back.
“No.”
Alessandro’s voice was quiet.
“Remove it.”
Raffaele looked at Beatrice.
That one glance damned them both.
The officer repeated, “Sir.”
Raffaele bolted.
He shoved past the officer, knocked over a side table, and ran into the hall.
Alessandro moved after him, but Beatrice screamed.
“Stop him! He’s dangerous!”
For one perfect second, Alessandro thought she meant Raffaele.
Then he heard Sophia cry out behind him.
Beatrice had grabbed Emma.
A silver letter opener flashed in her red-nailed hand.
The room froze.
Sophia’s face emptied of blood.
Emma whimpered.
Beatrice held the blade near the child’s shoulder, her mask completely gone now.
“Give me the drive,” she hissed.
Alessandro stopped moving.
The officers drew their weapons.
Beatrice tightened her grip.
“Lower them, or this little brat pays for what her father stole.”
Sophia took one step forward.
“Please. She’s a baby.”
“She is a witness.”
Alessandro looked at Emma.
The child’s eyes were huge, but she was not screaming.
She was staring at him.
Trusting him.
He slowly raised the flash drive.
“Take it,” he said.
Beatrice smiled.
But Alessandro’s other hand was already moving toward the small remote in his pocket.
The remote connected to the security room.
To every screen.
To every camera.
And to the live recording system that had been running since the moment Beatrice entered the drawing room.
May you like
Her confession had just been captured.
Every word.
