Chapter 14: The Search

Aldo moved faster than a man his age should.

He caught my sleeve at the front door and turned us around.

We ran back up the main stairs and through the study door, and he locked it behind us.

He pulled the lake map away from the study wall and a narrow door swung inward behind it.

"The old servants' stair," he said. "It runs behind the whole east wing. Go."

Dario pushed me through and the map swung shut.

I stood in the dark with the brown file against my chest and my pulse in my ears.

Through a crack in the paneling I could see the green lamp and part of the desk.

The study door banged open.

Camille came in first, in a red coat, with Vincent Torrisi behind her and a dozen lieutenants crowding the hall.

I knew every one of their faces.

I had poured their wine for six years, and two of them had jeered at me on the bridge.

"Aldo," Vincent said, without any greeting. "Forgive the intrusion. My daughter has had a fright."

"You've brought twelve cars to my gate for a fright."

"A man of mine saw a woman at your dead ward's grave. Same height. Same hair. She laid her hand on the marker."

"A mourner."

"At two in the morning. In a grey coat."

Dario stood by the window in a grey coat of his own.

Camille's eyes went straight to it.

"That's not the only coat in Chicago," Dario said.

"No," she said. "But it's yours."

Stefano had come in behind them, and he stood very still beside the door.

He did not look at the map.

I kept my hand over my mouth.

"My father's house is not yours to search, Vincent," he said.

"Then you won't mind if we do."

"I mind."

"Why?" Camille asked him, and her voice was soft. "Stefano. Why would you mind?"

"Because Maeve is in the ground, and you are walking through her rooms with a crowd."

"I think she isn't in the ground."

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