Chapter 3: The Building Manager's Call
Julian kept the phone pressed to his ear.
He didn't move.
He didn't look at Victoria.
The room had gone so quiet that Elena could hear the faint voice coming through the speaker — not the words, just the tone.
Flat.
Certain.
The tone of someone reading from a list.
Julian finally lowered the phone.
"He says there have been three other incidents in this building in the past eighteen months," Julian said.
"Three other members of staff accused of theft.
All of them fired.
None of them ever charged."
Someone near the window drew a sharp breath.
"That has nothing to do with tonight," Victoria said.
Her voice had recovered some of its edge.
"Those are separate matters entirely."
"Were they your staff?" her husband asked.
He was looking at her now.
Really looking.
Victoria didn't answer.
"Victoria." His voice dropped.
"Were they your staff?"
"Two of them worked for us, yes.
That is not a crjme.
Staff steal.
It happens in every household at this level."
"Except the camera just showed us that the one who stole tonight," Julian said, "was you."
Victoria turned to face him fully.
Something shifted in her expression — not guilt, not shame.
Something colder than either.
"You have no idea what you are involved in," she said quietly.
"Any of you."
Elena pressed her back against the doorframe.
The woman who had placed a hand on her shoulder earlier — she had not moved away.
Her name was Diane, she had said.
A neighbor.
She had been at the dinner because her husband played golf with Victoria's husband, whose name, Elena had learned only tonight, was Richard.
Richard was still standing with his arms crossed.
But his jaw had tightened.
"The other two," he said.
"The ones who were fired.
What happened to them?"
Julian looked at his phone again.
"The building manager says one of them took it to a labor board.
The case was dropped after the woman withdrew her complaint."
"Why did she withdraw it?" Diane asked.
Julian hesitated.
"He doesn't know.
But he says she left the city within a month."
The room processed that in silence.
Elena thought about her own situation.
She had been working for the Hargrove household for four months.
She had no union.
No contract beyond a basic letter of employment.
She had taken the job because the pay was better than anything else she had found, and because her mother's medication had gone up again in January.
"I want to know their names," Elena said.
Everyone looked at her.
She hadn't planned to speak.
But the words were already out.
"The other women who were accused.
I want to know their names."
Victoria's expression shifted again.
This time Elena recognized it.
It was the look someone gives when they realize the person in front of them is no longer afraid.
"This is not your concern," Victoria said.
"It became my concern," Elena replied, "when you put your necklace in my bag."
Richard unfolded his arms.
He walked to the side table near the television, picked up his own phone, and dialed.
"Who are you calling?" Victoria asked.
"My attorney," he said.
"Not the divorce one.
The other one."
Victoria took one step toward him.
"Richard, do not do this here.
Not in front of these people."
"You should have thought about that," he said, "before you did it in front of the camera."
The call connected.
Richard walked out of the room.
Victoria stood in the center of the space he had left behind.
The guests were still there.
No one had moved toward the door.
No one was pretending to look elsewhere.
Julian's phone buzzed again.
He read the message.
His face changed in a way that made Diane reach out and touch Elena's arm without saying a word.
"What is it?" Elena asked.
Julian looked up slowly.
"The building manager just forwarded me something," he said.
"A photograph.
Taken in this building, eight months ago." He paused.
"Elena, the woman in this photograph — did you ever meet anyone named Rosa?"
Elena's throat tightened.
Rosa had been the housekeeper before her.
The agency had mentioned her only once, briefly, when Elena signed her paperwork.
They said Rosa had left the position voluntarily.
"I never met her," Elena said.
"But I know the name."
Julian turned the phone screen toward her.
The photograph showed a young woman standing outside the building's service entrance.
She was carrying a single bag.
Her face was turned slightly away from the camera, but Elena could see enough.
She could see that the woman was crying.
"That was taken the day she was fired," Julian said.
Victoria made a sound — not quite a word, not quite a denial.
Something between the two.
Diane's hand tightened on Elena's arm.
"There's a date on that photograph," Diane said to Julian.
May you like
"Can you find out if there was a police report filed that day?"
Julian was already typing.
