Chapter 9: What Justice Looked Like
Detective Inspector Callum Reid arrived at half past ten with a colleague and a warrant already drafted.
Marcus went with them without resistance.
He shook no one's hand on the way out.
He said nothing in the hallway.
At the front door he paused for just a moment, and Domenico thought he might turn around.
He didn't.
The door closed.
The car pulled away.
Petra sat across from Domenico in the study and walked him through what would happen next.
The forensic bank records had been secured.
The authorization trail was documented.
Marcus's written statement named Idris Vane as the architect of the scheme and provided enough detail for Reid's team to move within hours.
"Vane will be harder," Petra said.
"The Cyprus account adds a layer.
But with Marcus cooperating and the internal records intact, the case is strong."
"How long?"
"For charges against Marcus — weeks, not months.
The documentation is clear.
For Vane — longer.
But he's not going to disappear.
His name is in too many places now."
Domenico nodded.
"The trust accounts," he said.
"Can the funds be recovered?"
"Some of it.
The transfers to the Cyprus account are traceable.
Asset recovery will depend on what Vane has done with the money since, but the legal mechanism is there." Petra closed her laptop.
"You should have your own attorney present for the next phase.
This moves out of my lane once Reid's team takes it formally."
"I'll call him today."
She stood and gathered her materials.
At the door she paused.
"The woman who left the letter," she said.
"She found the right account name.
She found Vane's name in the records.
She documented it and left it where someone would find it." A pause.
"That's not easy to do when you're being told you're wrong by everyone around you."
"No," Domenico said.
"It isn't."
Petra left.
He sat alone in the study for a few minutes.
Outside, the grounds were fully lit now, the frost gone, the light flat and clear.
A normal morning by every visible measure.
He heard footsteps on the stairs.
Then Ruby's voice from the landing, speaking to one of the household staff — asking about a box of photographs, her tone patient and direct.
He heard the staff member say they were in the east storage room.
He heard Ruby say thank you.
He heard her walk toward the east wing.
Upstairs, a door opened.
Valentina's footsteps, slower, crossed the landing.
They stopped above the study.
Did not come down.
He did not go up.
There was time for that.
There was a great deal that needed to be said between them, and none of it was ready yet, and forcing it before it was ready would only damage what might still be repaired.
He knew that.
He thought she knew it too.
He picked up the phone and called his attorney.
"It's Domenico," he said.
"I need you this afternoon.
Financial fraud, two million, four years.
The financial crimes division is already involved." A pause.
"No.
I'm not the target.
I'm the one who called them."
He listened for a moment.
"Yes," he said.
"It's going to be a long week."
He set the phone down and looked at Ruby's letter, still flat on the desk where he had placed it that morning.
May you like
*Please be careful.*
He folded it once, carefully, and put it in the inside pocket of his jacket.
