Chapter 6: The Meeting Romano Called for Himself
Romano Costa arrived at the office at 5:47 a.m.
He was sixty-one years old, shorter than Vincent by four inches, and had the kind of face that had learned long ago how to look reasonable under any circumstances.
Silver hair.
A dark overcoat.
A calm that came from decades of practice.
He brought Reyes.
He also brought a man named Farrell, who handled Romano's personal legal matters and who had never once set foot in Vincent's office before this morning.
Mave sat at her desk outside the main office.
She did not stand when they entered.
Romano glanced at her the way a person glances at furniture they are considering moving.
"She stays outside," Romano said to Vincent.
"She stays where she is," Vincent said.
Romano looked at her again.
Something moved behind his eyes.
Then he walked into the office.
Reyes took a position near the door.
He looked at Mave once.
She looked back at him until he looked away.
Inside the office, Vincent sat behind his desk.
Romano took the chair across from him without being invited.
Farrell stood to one side with a leather portfolio under his arm.
"I've been hearing things," Romano said.
"Concerning things.
About irregularities in the financial reporting."
"Tell me what you've heard," Vincent said.
"That someone on the administrative level has been pulling reports they have no authorization to access.
Offshore accounts.
Holding structures.
Sensitive routing information."
"And who told you that?"
Romano folded his hands.
"I have my own sources inside this organization.
I've always had them.
Your father understood that."
"My father is gone."
"Yes." Romano let that sit for exactly one second.
"Which is why I'm concerned.
You're young.
You inherited something complicated.
It's natural that people around you might take advantage of that."
"People around me," Vincent said.
"Your secretary, for example."
"Her name is Mave."
"She has no background in this kind of work.
No family connections.
No history with the organization.
She appeared three years ago and you gave her access to everything." Romano spread his hands.
"I'm not suggesting malice.
I'm suggesting naivety.
On your part."
Vincent said nothing.
"There's a simple solution," Romano continued.
"A loyalty review.
Standard process.
Your father used it twice.
It protects the organization.
It protects you." He paused.
"It removes the problem cleanly."
"The problem," Vincent said.
"The girl."
The office was very quiet.
Then Vincent opened the desk drawer and placed a folder on the surface between them.
"Meridian Freight Solutions," Vincent said.
"Fourteen months of wire transfers.
Callum Doyle's LLC in Delaware.
A project code from our internal system appearing on an outside insurance document." He tapped the folder.
"And $2.3 million that left this organization through structures you built, through accounts you controlled, into a fund that Mateo Reyes was drawing from last night when he walked into the Plaza with a photograph of my secretary."
Romano did not move.
"The loyalty review," Vincent said, "is a good idea.
I agree completely."
Farrell's hand tightened on the portfolio.
Romano's calm did not break.
That was the thing about him — the calm never broke.
It simply became a different kind of calm.
Colder.
More deliberate.
"You have documents," Romano said.
"Documents can be explained.
Documents can be challenged.
I built the financial structure of this organization.
I know every account, every code, every authorization trail.
Whatever your secretary found, I can provide context for."
"I'm sure you can," Vincent said.
"Which is why I didn't bring it to you first."
Romano's eyes moved to the door.
"Reyes is not going to help you," Vincent said.
"Leo is outside with two other people.
Reyes is already aware of this."
For the first time, something shifted in Romano's face.
Not fear.
Something adjacent to it.
"You would move against your own family," Romano said.
"You moved against mine first," Vincent said.
"Before my father was even in the ground."
The silence that followed was the longest in the room.
Then Romano looked toward the door to the outer office.
Toward Mave's desk.
"She found it," he said.
Not a question.
Not an accusation.
Something almost like recognition.
"She found a $30,000 discrepancy in a column you assumed no one would read carefully," Vincent said.
"And then she found everything else."
Romano stood.
"I want to speak with my attorney," he said.
"Farrell is your personal attorney," Vincent said.
"The organization's attorney is already on his way.
I'd suggest you think carefully about which conversation you want to have first."
Romano buttoned his coat.
His hands were steady.
May you like
His face was composed.
But he did not look at Vincent again as he sat back down.
