Part 5
Nico kept the receiver against his ear.
“What did you tell him?”
“That we’d had it examined. Nothing more.”
“Good. Come to dinner. Arrive late enough to leave before dessert.”
Julian was silent for a moment.
Then he said, “What would you like me to mention on my way out?”
By evening, Walter had laid the dining table for two. Nico changed his shirt, washed the soot from beneath his nails, and stood at the door when Everett arrived.
They embraced. Nico kissed his cheeks.
Everett looked toward the grounds as Walter took his coat.
“A dreadful day.”
“Paul died protecting this house.”
“Yes. I heard.” Everett lowered his eyes at exactly the proper moment. “A loyal man.”
Nico poured the wine himself.
For most of the meal they discussed things that had once required no effort: a cousin’s wedding, a disappointing soccer match, whether the damaged gates could be restored or needed replacing.
Rook lay under Nico’s chair. His injured shoulder had been dressed, but his eyes followed Everett’s left hand whenever it moved.
Nico waited until Walter cleared the main course.
“Hannah asked me to see to Thomas’s little box,” he said. “Apparently the tune was slowing down. I had Walter take it across town.”
Everett’s fingers stopped against his wineglass.
Then he lifted it.
“A kindness. She has few enough things left from him.”
Nico reached for the bottle. “More?”
“Thank you.”
Everett held the glass steady. A pale patch appeared beneath the pressure of his thumb.
Julian passed the open doorway while they were having coffee. He stopped with his coat over one arm.
“The box is secured,” he told Nico. “I put it in the small vault beside the weapons room. The appraiser won’t be here until Monday.”
Nico waved an acknowledgment and asked Everett another question about the match.
At the front door, Everett inquired after Rosie.
“Asleep,” Nico said.
“Give her my regards.”
The car left at 11:40.
At 2:17, Walter watched a figure enter the west corridor on the surveillance screen.
Everett knew which sensors to bypass. He paused only long enough to enter a six-digit code at the vault. Four men possessed active codes for that door.
Inside, he lifted the music box from its padded tray.
The false floor had been removed. The compartment held neither card nor letter.
Nico had left a white square in their place.
“Your secret’s out.”
Everett read it twice. His mouth opened slightly. For once, no appropriate expression arrived to cover it.
He put the box down and walked out.
Walter followed him from camera to camera. Through the weapons room, into the back passage, then outside to the service terrace.
Everett reached beneath a large planter and retrieved a concealed phone.
Nico had ordered the terrace watched after the first attack. The hidden handset had been found during that sweep, left in place, and brought under surveillance through the same contact who handled the household’s protected communications.
Now Everett’s voice came through the monitor speaker.
“He’s got the files. The recording, too. All of it.”
He listened, his free hand opening and closing.
“I’ll take them tonight. The woman and the girl. We settle it before morning.”
Nico was already in the doorway.
“Close the western passages,” he said into his radio. “Keep him contained. Nobody shoots him.”
In a surveillance alcove below, Owen Barresi heard the order.
Everett had placed him on the perimeter six months earlier. Owen’s brother owed money in Bari, and Everett had made clear what would happen if the debt remained unpaid. A man who had started by checking delivery vehicles now stood close enough to the inner controls to reach them without being questioned.
He froze one camera on an empty hallway.
Then he disabled the west passage alarm and released the service-door lock.
Everett came inside.
Instead of heading for the gates, he climbed the main stairs.
Rook rose from Rosie’s bed before Everett reached the upper landing. He stood facing the bedroom door, his growl so low Hannah first felt it through the floor.
She had been sleeping in the adjoining room. Now she threw back the covers, crossed to Rosie, and gathered her up.
Rook moved toward the main door. Hannah chose the smaller passage toward the back stairs.
Everett was waiting outside it.
His pistol was steady. His voice was almost affectionate.
“Hannah. We’re going downstairs.”
She stepped back half a pace.
“Don’t.” He raised the weapon. “You go first if you resist. Then I carry her.”
Rosie stirred against her shoulder.
Hannah turned toward the stairs.
They had taken only a few steps when the bedroom door pushed open behind them. Rook came through at a silent run.
Everett pivoted and fired.
The dog’s hindquarters dropped. He struck the runner and cried out once.
“Rook!” Rosie twisted in Hannah’s arms.
Hannah covered her daughter’s mouth because Everett had put the pistol against the back of her head.
“Keep walking.”
Behind them, claws caught in the carpet.
Rook pulled himself forward with his front legs. His damaged hind leg dragged, leaving a widening stain on the pale runner. He stopped to draw breath, lifted his head toward Rosie, and pulled again.
Everett forced Hannah down the back stairs, through the laundry passage, and past the hot-water equipment.
At a narrow steel door, he entered a code Hannah had never seen anyone use.
Seven years earlier, Everett had helped Nico commission the house’s second renovation. He knew the old service plans, including the passage that ran beneath the eastern wall to a drainage channel beyond the grounds.
Cold air touched Hannah’s face when they emerged.
A dark SUV waited in the lane, engine running without lights. One of Everett’s men opened the rear door.
Hannah tried to keep both arms around Rosie. Everett tore the child away, pushed Hannah onto the seat, and secured Rosie at the opposite end.
At 3:04, the SUV rolled out of the drainage lane…
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