Chapter 4 - The Woman in the Photograph.
Emma had not seen that photograph in twenty years.
She had not known it existed.
Her mother, Catherine Carter, looked younger than Emma remembered her, with long hair tied at the nape of her neck and a guarded smile that seemed almost unfamiliar.
Jonathan Vale stood beside her with one hand resting on a wooden desk.
Victoria stood on the other side.
She could not have been more than nineteen.
Adrian stared at Emma.
"Why was your mother with my father?"
"I don't know."
Victoria found her voice.
"She worked here."
Emma turned slowly.
"My mother never worked here."
"Then she lied to you."
Emma's face hardened.
"She cleaned rooms at the Northbridge Hotel until she got sick."
Victoria shrugged.
"Before that, she worked for Jonathan."
Adrian studied Victoria.
"You knew Catherine Carter?"
"Barely."
Emma stared at the photograph again.
In the bottom corner, someone had written a date.
May 3, 2005.
Emma had been seven years old.
A second note was written beneath it.
CATHERINE KNOWS WHERE THE LEDGER IS.
Adrian read the words twice.
"What ledger?"
Victoria laughed nervously.
"Jonathan wrote notes on everything."
Emma looked up.
"Why are you scared?"
Victoria's face snapped toward her.
"I'm not scared."
"Your hands have been shaking since the screen turned on."
Victoria looked down as if betrayed by her own fingers.
Adrian took the photograph.
"We are going upstairs."
They returned to the grand hall twenty minutes later.
Most of the guests had been moved into the ballroom, where staff served water and security checked names.
Police had been called after the basement incident.
The Asteria necklace remained on the console table beneath a glass serving dome improvised as evidence protection.
Emma stopped when she saw it.
Something bothered her.
The necklace was brilliant under the chandelier.
Too brilliant.
She moved closer.
Victoria noticed.
"Don't touch it again."
Emma ignored her.
"Mr. Vale, may I ask you something?"
"What?"
"Was your grandmother's necklace repaired recently?"
Adrian frowned.
"Not that I know of."
"Then this isn't it."
The room became quiet again.
Victoria stared at her.
"Excuse me?"
Emma pointed through the glass dome.
"The clasp."
Adrian leaned closer.
"What about it?"
"The Asteria necklace in the portrait upstairs has a square antique clasp with a tiny blue stone."
Victoria's confidence vanished.
Emma continued.
"This clasp is modern and round."
Adrian lifted the glass carefully and examined the necklace.
He had seen the Asteria piece hundreds of times.
He should have noticed immediately.
Shock had made everyone see what they expected to see.
He turned the clasp over.
There was no blue stone.
"It's a replica."
A wave of disbelief passed through the guests.
Victoria shook her head.
"That's impossible."
Adrian looked at her.
"You claimed you recognized it."
"I was upset."
"You said it was yours before anyone examined it."
"Because it looked like mine."
Emma spoke softly.
"Because whoever planted it wanted it to look like yours."
Victoria rounded on her.
"Stop pretending you're clever."
"Stop pretending you're surprised."
The words escaped before Emma could stop them.
Victoria lunged toward her.
Adrian caught Victoria by the arm.
"Enough."
"She is accusing me in my own home."
Adrian's expression hardened.
"This is not your home."
The sentence landed with brutal clarity.
Victoria stared at him.
They were engaged.
The wedding was six weeks away.
Half the guests in the ballroom had been invited to it.
Now Adrian had publicly drawn a line between them.
A police siren sounded outside.
Before anyone could speak, Daniel Cross approached with a small evidence bag.
"Sir, we searched Malcolm's office."
Adrian looked at the bag.
Inside was a flash drive.
"Where was it?"
"Taped beneath his desk."
"What's on it?"
"I checked one folder before the police arrived."
Daniel's face was grim.
"Copies of bank transfers."
Victoria went still.
Adrian noticed.
"Whose transfers?"
Daniel looked at her.
"Hale Consulting."
Victoria's father's company.
The company had been insolvent for almost a decade.
Adrian stepped closer to Daniel.
"Transfers to whom?"
"Malcolm Reed."
Victoria shouted.
"That's a setup."
Daniel continued.
"There are twelve payments over eighteen months."
Emma's eyes moved toward the handbag on the floor.
She suddenly remembered the framed photograph that had fallen from it earlier.
It was a photograph of her mother.
The tissue paper around it had torn when Victoria emptied the bag.
Emma picked it up.
Something slipped from behind the frame.
A narrow brass key landed on the marble.
Emma stared at it.
She had never seen it before.
Adrian crouched and picked it up.
A tiny label was attached.
B-17.
Victoria whispered one word.
"No."
Adrian looked at her.
"You know this key."
Victoria took another step backward.
"No."
Emma looked at the photograph of her mother.
Then at the key that had somehow been hidden behind it.
Her mother had died seven years earlier.
The frame had not been opened since the funeral.
Which meant the key had been waiting there all along.
When the replica was identified, the mood among the remaining guests changed with humiliating speed.
People who had avoided Emma now offered sympathetic glances.
One guest even approached to say he had never believed the accusation, although Emma distinctly remembered hearing him call for the police.
She thanked him without warmth.
Adrian watched the exchange.
"You remember who said what, don't you?"
"Every word."
"Good."
Emma looked at him.
"Why good?"
"Because tomorrow half this room will remember itself as kinder than it was."
May you like
Emma glanced toward the chandeliers and the abandoned champagne glasses.
"Then someone should remember accurately."
