Chapter 6 - The Signature That Stole an Empire
The forged signatures were good. They were so good that Dominic sat in Sofia's office for twenty minutes staring at them without speaking.
Vittorio had spent years assembling a network of shell companies, false medical records, and fabricated authorization forms. If Dominic were declared unable to manage his affairs, a dormant trust could shift control of major holdings to a trustee nominated by Mercer. The documents had not yet taken effect, but the scheme was far enough along to frighten even Sofia.
“Why now?” I asked.
“Because the annual review is next month,” she said. “And Dominic has refused to sign a new security contract.”
Dominic rubbed his forehead. “Mercer built a prison and called it protection.”
The independent doctors had now found evidence that Dominic's medication history was unreliable. A toxicology specialist identified an unexpected sedating compound in one retained bottle, and investigators were tracing its source. The neurologist was still evaluating the cause of his episodes; she warned that stopping suspicious exposure did not establish a single explanation for everything he'd experienced.
Dominic listened. He had learned the hard way that certainty could be another kind of trap.
We spent the next two weeks sorting records. The work was slow and unglamorous: purchase orders, badge logs, payment approvals, invoices for equipment no one remembered installing. I recognized a familiar supplier code on a document from twelve years ago. It was printed beside a maintenance order signed by my father.
For a moment I felt betrayed. Then I noticed the handwriting. Daniel Hodge always crossed his sevens. The signature on the form did not.
“It's forged,” I said.
Sofia requested an examination. The specialist agreed the questioned writing showed significant differences and needed comparison with originals.
That night, my mother told me the truth she'd held back. My father had gone to meet a man named Vittorio on the morning he died. He had been carrying copies of a report and had promised to return before dinner. He never did.
“Did you tell the police?” I asked.
“I did. They said there was no evidence he reached the meeting.”
“Did they take the report?”
“No. I hid it.”
She went to the kitchen, removed the bottom of an old bread tin, and brought out a folded envelope.
Inside was a signed inspection report identifying a dangerous hidden control system and recommending that it be disconnected immediately. There was also a photograph of a damaged stair rail at the worksite where Daniel later fell. A handwritten note said: RAIL REMOVED BEFORE INSPECTION.
I could barely breathe.
My father had known somebody intended to kill him.
Dominic sat beside me while I cried. He didn't say revenge would fix it. He didn't promise that his money could turn back time. He just stayed.
At midnight, Sofia called. Investigators had matched a bank transfer from Mercer's holding company to the subcontractor who had certified the scaffold as safe.
The detective reopened my father's death as a suspected homicide.
Two days later, Dominic received a message from Vittorio himself.
A photograph showed Celeste Moretti tied to a chair in an empty room.
Below it were seven words.
COME ALONE OR YOUR AUNT DIES TONIGHT.
Dominic reached for his coat.
I stepped between him and the door.
“Remember what you told me?” I asked. “Evidence first. No more locked doors.”
May you like
His hands trembled with anger.
Then he put the coat down and called the detective.
