Chapter 9 – The Last Witness
The estate was quieter than it had ever been.
Not peaceful.
Waiting.
Every hallway echoed with the footsteps of armed guards. Every window reflected floodlights sweeping across the grounds.
No one trusted anyone anymore.
Especially not after Marco's discovery.
At sunrise, Alessandro sat alone in his father's old study.
The room had remained almost untouched for twenty-five years.
The leather chair.
The antique globe.
The grandfather clock that had stopped at 11:43 p.m. on the night his father died.
He had never found the strength to repair it.
His eyes drifted to a framed photograph of himself as a young man standing beside his father.
Strong.
Confident.
Unaware that everything would soon fall apart.
A soft knock came at the door.
Marco entered.
"I've confirmed it."
Alessandro didn't need to ask.
"Isabella?"
Marco nodded.
"The perfume Emma recognized was custom-made. Only twelve bottles were ever produced."
"And?"
"One was purchased by Isabella three years ago."
Alessandro closed his eyes.
"I wanted to be wrong."
Across the estate, Isabella packed a single suitcase.
She moved calmly.
Methodically.
As though she were preparing for a business trip.
There was no sign of panic.
She knew they suspected her.
She also knew they didn't have enough evidence to arrest her.
Not yet.
She zipped the suitcase closed.
Then removed a small silver key from a hidden pocket.
She smiled.
"There are still secrets you haven't found, Alessandro."
Meanwhile, Emma was drawing again.
This time, her picture showed a church.
A tree.
And an old man with white hair.
Sophia looked at it curiously.
"Who's that?"
Emma pointed proudly.
"The nice grandpa."
"What grandpa?"
"The one Daddy took me to."
Sophia frowned.
"Emma..."
"When was this?"
"The day before Daddy got sick."
Sophia's heartbeat quickened.
She had been working that day.
Daniel had taken Emma with him while running errands.
She had never asked where they went.
"What did Grandpa say?"
Emma concentrated.
"He said..."
"...if anything bad happens..."
"...tell the truth when the bells ring."
Sophia stared at her daughter.
Church bells.
Father Michael.
Daniel hadn't only trusted the priest.
He had trusted someone else.
Marco immediately drove to the chapel.
Father Michael welcomed him inside.
When Marco showed him Emma's drawing, the old priest became very still.
"I know who she's talking about."
"Who?"
"Arthur Bennett."
"The retired court clerk."
Marco frowned.
"What does a court clerk have to do with Daniel?"
Father Michael sighed.
"Arthur kept copies."
"Copies of what?"
"Documents that powerful people wanted destroyed."
Marco's eyes widened.
"Is he still alive?"
The priest looked away.
"Barely."
Arthur Bennett lived in a small farmhouse nearly an hour outside the city.
When Marco and Alessandro arrived, they found the old man sitting on his porch with a blanket across his knees.
He looked frail.
But his blue eyes remained remarkably sharp.
He smiled faintly.
"I've been expecting you."
Alessandro exchanged a glance with Marco.
"You know who we are?"
Arthur nodded.
"Daniel told me you'd come someday."
Inside the modest farmhouse, Arthur slowly unlocked an old wooden chest.
"I worked at the county courthouse for forty-two years."
"I saw judges bribed."
"Evidence disappear."
"Witnesses threatened."
"And every time I made a copy."
He lifted out several thick binders.
"I couldn't stop them."
"But I could remember."
Marco carefully opened the first binder.
It contained court records connected to suspicious deaths.
Including...
Alessandro's father.
Daniel Alvarez.
Three Westbridge employees.
And dozens of names they had never seen before.
"They're all connected," Marco whispered.
Arthur nodded.
"The Raven Society has been operating for decades."
Alessandro looked up.
"Who leads them?"
The old man's smile faded.
"I never learned the leader's name."
"But I know the messenger."
"Who?"
Arthur hesitated.
Then answered quietly.
"A woman."
Before he could say another word—
A deafening explosion shattered every window in the farmhouse.
The walls shook violently.
Smoke filled the room.
Marco instinctively threw Alessandro behind an overturned table.
Outside—
A black van sped away down the dirt road.
"They planted a bomb!" Marco shouted.
The farmhouse was on fire.
Flames raced through the dry wooden walls.
Marco helped Alessandro to his feet.
"Arthur!"
The old man had been thrown across the room.
A heavy beam pinned his legs.
Alessandro rushed to him.
"We're getting you out."
Arthur grabbed his sleeve.
"No."
"Yes."
"There isn't time."
The ceiling groaned above them.
Burning timber crashed to the floor.
Arthur reached into his coat with trembling hands.
He pulled out a small leather notebook.
"My copies..."
"...aren't enough."
"You need..."
He coughed violently.
"...the ledger."
"What ledger?"
Arthur forced himself to speak.
"The Raven Society keeps..."
"...a payment ledger."
"It has every name."
"Every bribe."
"Every murder."
Marco leaned closer.
"Where is it?"
Arthur looked directly at Alessandro.
"In..."
Another beam collapsed.
Smoke swallowed the room.
Arthur struggled to finish.
"It's hidden..."
"...beneath..."
His voice faded.
"No!"
Alessandro shouted.
Arthur smiled weakly.
"Your father..."
"...knew."
His eyes slowly closed.
The old court clerk—the last living witness to decades of corruption—was gone.
Marco pulled Alessandro from the burning farmhouse just seconds before the roof collapsed.
They stood helplessly as flames consumed the building.
Firefighters arrived too late to save anything.
Or so everyone believed.
As investigators searched the ruins hours later, one firefighter called Marco over.
"We found this."
It was the leather notebook Arthur had handed Alessandro.
The edges were burned.
Most of the pages were ruined.
But one page had survived.
Scrawled across it, in shaky handwriting, were six words:
The ledger is beneath Saint Agnes.
Marco stared at the note.
Alessandro looked toward the distant church steeple rising above the trees.
Saint Agnes Church.
May you like
The oldest church in the county.
And the place where Daniel had taken Emma... the day before he died.
