My phone vibrates with a call. It’s Bruno, so I excuse myself while Amadeo continues to question him. I assume he’s going to tell me they landed safely and Vittoria is secured in Ravello. I hope that’s what he’s going to say. But the timing makes me anxious.
“Bruno?” I say as I close the bedroom door behind me. “All good?”
“Yes, all is fine. Vittoria is at the Ravello house. I forgot to text you when we landed, but I was pretty engrossed.”
“Engrossed with what?”
“That lawyer, Brady, he got a hell of a bonus about six years ago around the time the will was changed.”
“A transfer was initiated by Geno Russo literally days before Vittoria was admitted to that quack’s clinic. But it’s not only that. There are other transfers of money. Sizeable amounts. These are classified the same way as the transfers to Dmitri Anders. They’re the only ones classified this way.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Brady wasn’t surprised when the Russian team came into the offices to ‘arrest’ you. He didn’t seem at all nervous even. I remember finding that strange. It’s almost as though he expected it.”
“You think he’s working with Lucien?”
“Might be. I just sent you the files. The transactions are highlighted.”
“Your timing is impeccable, Bruno. We were just paying the old man a visit after Lucien attacked him. I guess their partnership was headed south.”
“You found the brother then?”
“No. He slipped away.”
“Well, Ravello is secured. You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll be heading up there in the morning to check on things. When will you be back?”
“Hoping tomorrow. I guess it depends on our chat with the old man now.”
“Keep me posted.”
“Will do. Thanks, Bruno.”
I head back into the bedroom to find my brother with his arms folded across his chest and an irritated look on his face. I open the file and take in the amounts.
“Did Geno Russo pay you to cover up the killing of Vittoria’s rapists, or were you working with Lucien to hire the bastards?”
I’m not sure who is more surprised when they turn toward me, Brady or my brother.
“That was Bruno,” I tell Amadeo. “Judging from the bonuses he was paid, Mr. Brady was a model employee.” I share the figures with Amadeo, who whistles through his teeth. “First one looks like was authorized by Geno. A six-figure ‘bonus.’ Is that normal?”
Brady clears his throat.
“What happened to the righteous ‘I won’t work with crooks’ part?” I ask.
“Mr. Russo wasn’t a crook.” He stands to reach for his shirt.
“Sit,” Amadeo says.
“I’d like to get dressed.”
“And I’d like some answers. Sit.”