Chapter 6 - The Invoice Beneath the Empire
The company was called Harbor Technical Services.
According to Gabriel’s invoice, it had replaced critical crane components twelve years earlier.
According to Julian Keene, it had never employed a qualified mechanic.
“It billed for work,” Shaw explained. “We’re investigating who actually received the payments.”
Rosa looked through the conference-room glass at the traffic below.
Her father had died beneath a repair that existed on paper.
She had spent twelve years maintaining machinery for people who might have known.
Ben sat beside her.
His cane leaned against the chair.
“Dad knew,” he said.
Shaw nodded cautiously.
“His notes indicate he suspected discrepancies.”
“He wasn’t careless.”
“No,” Rosa said.
The word came out fiercely.
“He wasn’t.”
The accountant’s records opened other questions.
Pension contributions that had arrived late or not at all.
Maintenance budgets routed through contractors.
Land purchases around the terminal.
And a redevelopment proposal that would become much cheaper if Pier Four were declared beyond economic repair.
The developer’s name was Silas Voss.
Rosa recognized it from billboards.
LUXURY WATERFRONT LIVING.
She thought of the broken rail, the leaking office roof, the rejected repair requests.
Someone had been waiting for the harbor to look worthless.
Dante’s legitimate holdings were entangled with the terminal financing.
His attorneys began reviewing what he had signed and what Carmine had handled.
Rosa met him outside Vivian’s office after another long interview.
He was standing in the rain without opening his umbrella.
“You’ll get wet,” she said.
“I’ve been told it’s survivable.”
She almost smiled.
Then remembered why they were there.
“Did you know about Voss?”
“I knew he wanted the waterfront.”
“Did you help?”
“I approved financing discussions. I didn’t examine how the terminal was being valued.”
She folded her arms.
“You keep finding polite ways to describe looking away.”
He absorbed the words.
“Yes.”
She had expected defensiveness.
The agreement left her nowhere to push.
Dante looked toward the street.
“I built a system where people were afraid to bring me bad news. Then I congratulated myself for not hearing any.”
Rosa studied him.
“That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said all week.”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
“Only the first?”
“Don’t get ambitious.”
They walked toward a coffee shop.
Inside, nobody made room for him.
Nobody lowered their voice.
He seemed almost relieved.
Rosa ordered tea.
Dante paid for his own coffee after she raised an eyebrow.
They sat by the window.
For twenty minutes, they spoke about things that had nothing to do with the investigation.
Her father’s terrible singing.
Dante’s mother teaching piano.
Ben’s refusal to admit he enjoyed Leo’s cartoons.
Rosa discovered that Dante disliked olives and could remember an entire shipping schedule while forgetting where he put his glasses.
He discovered she had once wanted to design ferries.
“What stopped you?”
She looked down at her cup.
“Funerals are expensive.”
He said nothing.
She appreciated that.
When they stood to leave, his hand moved toward her back, then stopped.
“May I?”
Rosa looked at him.
Something warm and inconvenient stirred beneath her ribs.
“Yes.”
His hand rested lightly against her coat as they passed through the crowded doorway.
Outside, she stepped away.
“I’m not a project.”
“I know.”
“And I’m not the brave woman who taught you to be human.”
His mouth tightened.
“No.”
“I’m tired. I’m angry. I lose my temper at printers.”
“Printers deserve it.”
She laughed before she could stop herself.
That night, Matteo called Rosa.
His voice was low.
“Carmine thinks I’m still with him.”
Rosa straightened.
“Does Detective Shaw know?”
“Yes. I’m working through my attorney.”
“Then why are you calling me?”
“Because he asked about the old maintenance archive.”
She looked toward the folder on her table.
“What archive?”
“The one Sloan said burned twelve years ago.”
Matteo paused.
“It didn’t burn.”
May you like
Rosa’s hand tightened around the phone.
“It was moved.”
