Chapter 2 - THE HOSPITAL THAT BURIED AN EMPTY SECRET
The newborn survived the night.
That was the first fact that mattered.
He was mildly hypothermic and hungry.
Nothing more serious.
Detective Park called Renzo at 5:40 the next morning.
“The hospital is keeping him for observation.”
“Mother?”
“Unknown.”
“DNA?”
“Not yet.”
Renzo sat alone in Lucia’s old sitting room.
The locket lay beside him.
“I want to know whether he’s related to me.”
“You can provide a voluntary sample. It won’t be instantaneous.”
“I understand.”
There was a pause.
“Mr. Castiglione.”
“Yes?”
“I need you to keep your people out of this.”
Renzo looked toward the security cameras mounted beyond the window.
“You assume they are in it.”
“I know who you are.”
That sentence once created fear.
Now it created exhaustion.
“Then you know I can afford lawyers.”
“I know you’ve also been investigated by the FBI twice.”
“Three times.”
“Not helping.”
For the first time that night, Renzo almost smiled.
“I’ll cooperate.”
“Good.”
He hung up.
Chiara entered without knocking.
She had changed into black trousers and a cream sweater.
Hair perfect.
No sleep visible.
“You believe the photograph.”
“I believe Lucia is holding a child.”
“Could be anyone.”
“She wrote Matteo.”
“You don’t know when.”
Renzo turned.
“Do you?”
Chiara stopped.
“Why would I?”
“You recognized the locket.”
“She wore it every day.”
“So did you.”
Chiara’s mouth tightened.
“I loved Lucia too.”
That was true.
Chiara and Lucia had been friends before either woman became a Castiglione.
Lucia married Renzo.
Chiara married Renzo’s younger brother Paolo.
Paolo died of pancreatic cancer eleven years later.
Their son, Nico, was now twenty-seven.
If Renzo died without children, Nico would inherit a controlling interest in the Castiglione family trust.
Everyone knew it.
Nobody said it at breakfast.
Renzo picked up the photograph.
“Lucia looks healthy.”
“She was.”
“Three months after Matteo’s supposed funeral?”
Chiara did not answer.
“You can see the date stamp.”
September 18.
Three months after the birth.
Lucia’s hair was longer.
Her surgical scar would have healed.
The baby looked approximately three months old.
“Maybe she posed with someone else’s child.”
“Then why write his name?”
“I don’t know.”
Renzo stood.
“Neither do I.”
Downstairs, Detective Park arrived with another investigator.
They requested access to the service-area security system.
Renzo gave it.
His security director, Stefano Greco, looked unhappy.
“We can export the footage ourselves.”
Detective Park looked at him.
“We will.”
Stefano glanced toward Renzo.
Years earlier, that look would have been enough.
Renzo said, “Give her access.”
Stefano obeyed.
Thirty minutes later, Detective Park called Renzo into the security office.
“There’s a gap.”
“How long?”
“Twenty-three minutes.”
“When?”
“Forty minutes before Ada found the baby.”
Stefano folded his arms.
“Storm caused packet loss.”
The technician looked uncomfortable.
Detective Park pointed to another monitor.
“Only on three service cameras?”
No answer.
“Main gate kept recording. Front drive kept recording. Interior hall kept recording.”
Stefano said, “Different switch.”
“Maybe.”
She looked at Renzo.
“Access logs show somebody manually disabled recording.”
“Who?”
A name appeared.
CARMEN BELLINI
Renzo stared.
“That’s impossible.”
Stefano said, “Her staff credential has camera-maintenance rights.”
“Why?”
“She cleans the security office.”
Renzo turned slowly.
“You gave a housekeeper’s badge maintenance access?”
Stefano’s face tightened.
“Old system inheritance.”
Detective Park asked, “Where was Carmen during the outage?”
“In the kitchen,” Renzo said.
“We’ll verify.”
Stefano looked toward the door.
Too quickly.
Renzo noticed.
Again.
By noon, Santa Rosalia had confirmed the bracelet’s serial.
It had been issued six years earlier.
To Matteo Castiglione.
Hospital administration claimed the bracelet should have been destroyed with other neonatal items after death documentation.
No reason existed for it to be outside the archived evidence packet.
Then came the second problem.
There was no archived evidence packet.
The hospital’s neonatal file had been partially digitized.
Several original paper documents were missing.
Death certificate remained.
Physician notes remained.
Renzo’s authorization for private disposition remained.
But nursing transfer records from the last two hours of Matteo’s supposed life were absent.
So was the infant identification sheet.
Detective Park spoke carefully.
“That can happen in old files.”
Renzo looked at her.
“You believe that?”
“I believe missing paperwork is not proof of kidnapping.”
Good answer.
He still hated it.
At three, the county medical examiner confirmed something else.
There had never been an autopsy.
The death had been attributed to respiratory failure following complications at birth.
The infant burial permit existed.
Mortuary records existed.
Renzo called the funeral home.
Closed four years earlier.
Owner dead.
Records transferred to a storage company.
More delays.
He was learning that the truth waited in offices with terrible hold music.
At five, Detective Park returned.
“We found the woman Ada saw.”
Renzo stood.
“Where?”
“County road about two miles from your property.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
His lungs released.
“Who is she?”
“Rosa D’Amico. Twenty-eight.”
“Do I know her?”
“Not according to her.”
“Baby’s mother?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“She has a head injury and a fractured wrist. She’s being treated.”
Renzo’s jaw tightened.
“Did somebody attack her?”
“She says yes.”
“Who?”
Detective Park looked at him.
“Your sister.”
The room went silent.
Chiara was standing in the doorway.
She laughed once.
“That is absurd.”
Detective Park continued.
“Rosa says she came to your home to give you evidence about your son.”
Renzo turned toward Chiara.
She remained perfectly still.
Detective Park continued.
“She says Chiara intercepted her at the service entrance.”
Chiara shook her head.
“I have never met this woman.”
“Rosa says otherwise.”
“She is injured and frightened.”
“Yes.”
“Maybe confused.”
Detective Park’s face hardened.
“Maybe.”
Renzo asked:
“What evidence?”
“Rosa says she brought photographs and hospital records.”
“Where are they?”
“Missing.”
“And the baby?”
“She says someone took him from her during the confrontation.”
Chiara whispered, “Someone?”
Renzo looked at his sister.
Detective Park continued.
“Rosa escaped on foot. She says she heard her baby crying as she reached the garden wall.”
Renzo’s hands curled.
“What does she know about Matteo?”
Detective Park looked at the locket on the desk.
“Enough that she knew Lucia was his mother.”
“That isn’t enough.”
“No.”
“What else?”
Park paused.
“Rosa says Matteo is alive.”
Renzo forgot the room.
“Where?”
“She won’t tell us yet.”
“Why?”
“Because she says the people who hid him have been afraid of you longer than they’ve been afraid of your sister.”
That sentence landed differently than every accusation before it.
Renzo looked at his own reflection in the dark monitor.
May you like
The mystery was no longer only why someone had taken his son.
It was why the people protecting Matteo had believed his father was part of the danger.
