Wednesday, April 7th
Vincent Clancy's villa, 8:00 am
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Vincent was watching Olivia and Rachel eat their breakfast in silence. He hoped they didn't notice his apprehension, because he couldn't help fearing the moment when he would have to tell them what the PI had found out. He still didn't know how he could break the devastating news to them.
Olivia kept looking at her mobile phone and scrolling the touch screen for incoming messages. Rachel stirred the sugar in her coffee distractedly, and she had barely touched her toast. The previous evening they had waited for Brian to pick them up to go to the new restaurant in town, as he had promised, but in the end they had turned on the TV and watched it together. Vincent was at dinner at a friend’s, and he had tried to be at home early. He had found his daughter and granddaughter huddled on the sofa in an embrace, as if they wanted to comfort each other.
Now Vincent saw clearly that neither Olivia nor Rachel had slept much. After a long silence, Rachel said in an anguished tone:
“Where is dad? Why doesn't he answer the phone?”
She locked eyes with her grandfather, and she asked:
“Do you know where he is, Grandpa? I know that there is something you don't want to tell us…” Vincent tried to look out of the window, in order to avoid the demanding glance of the girl. “Please, grampa, tell us what you know. It can't be worse than having my father run away all the time and avoid staying with us, because this is what he is doing…” She looked at her mother, who was silently shaking her head. “Mum, you can’t go on defending him and saying that it is his job, that he is self-employed, that he has obligations and responsibilities…. You told me last night that you can't find excuses this time, even you!” It was heartbreaking to hear the poor girl’s exasperated voice. Vincent put a hand on his granddaughter’s arm. She turned to look at him, and tears were rolling down her cheeks. Olivia kept on looking at her daughter without speaking.
Vincent said carefully:
“Rachel…” He gathered all his courage to go on, “yes, I have discovered something, but I would like to talk to your dad first, because maybe there is a logical explanation …” In reality he thought there was no possible explanation this time, but he wanted to speak to Brian before sharing what he had found out with the two women. He wanted to hear what Brian would say when he was faced with the truth.
Olivia said with her eyes full of tears:
“Dad, what have you discovered? Does Brian have problems with his job? Does he have debts, and he is too proud to come to you for help?”
Vincent shook his head sadly. Olivia was far from the truth. What she was doing was once again trying to justify her husband. What would she say when she found out the type of man she had fallen in love with and had married? Oh, Vincent still hoped that Brian would have an explanation for what Mr Gatti had discovered, but what explanation could he have? What excuse could he make up for those photos? Who were the people in those photos?
Now he locked eyes with his daughter, and he decided to reveal the less serious part of the PI’s report. “Yes, Olivia, he has money problems and debts, but …”
Olivia interrupted him: “Oh, but we can help him out, can't we, dad? If it is a matter of money, we’ll find a solution…” She attempted a smile, but she saw that her father's expression hadn’t softened. She knew that there was much more than money problems.
***
Moncton, the college cafeteria, 1.00 pm
Daisy had been pleasantly surprised when she had seen her father waiting for her in front of the college building. She had immediately spotted him leaning against his dark car, smiling at her. She had run towards him with joy, and she had kissed his cheek.
Now they were sitting at a table in the cafeteria with a sandwich and a bottle of sparkling water in front of them. Even if Daisy was obviously happy to see her dad, she could perceive nervousness in his demeanor. From time to time, he looked at his watch, as if he had an appointment he didn't want to miss.
For a few moments they ate in silence. Then Luke said abruptly:
“Daisy, I wanted to talk to you about something…”
Daisy felt her heart skip a beat. Maybe he finally wanted to talk to her about what had happened six years before. She prayed they could finally talk peacefully about that, because the imposed silence was becoming unbearable for her.
“Last Saturday I made it clear that I don’t approve of your going out with those new policemen, didn't I?” No, the conversation was going in a direction Daisy didn't like, and once again she met a cold stare, and she heard a harsh commanding voice, so different from the calm, soothing father she had always known until that day six years before. Daisy felt a surge of anger rise inside her. What had happened was not her fault, it was not her fault if he had asked her to stick to that story of getting lost, it was not her fault if her mother had died two years before. Why had he never said a comforting word? Why had he never tried to let her feel his sympathy, his affection? And now, why did he try to prevent her from making friends with good, upright men, when he had always allowed her to hang around with whoever she liked, without any interference on his part?
“Dad, you expressed your opinion about the new policemen in town, but I didn't think you wanted me to stop seeing them, also because there is no reason…” She saw that her father was looking at her with cold penetrating eyes, but she went on: “You have never met my friends, you have never been interested in my acquaintances. Why are you severe now in your judgment? One of those policemen was given an award by the Governor for his courage, and you don’t think he is good enough to spend some time with your daughter?” Luke was staring at her with wide eyes, because he had never heard her speak up and defend her choices.
She went on. She wanted to let him see how difficult her life had been because of his impositions. “Dad, I have been doing what you asked me to do, and I have been saying what you ordered me to say for six years now. Do you realize how painful it has been? Do you realize that I can say whatever you ask me to say, but the fear, the terror I felt for those two days is still real? That sometimes I wake up at night and I am sweating because I fear someone is snatching me from my bed? That, when we stop at a public restroom, I always ask someone to accompany me and to wait for me? And you never explained why … why I had to lie to the police and to my mother and grandmother….!” There was anguish in her voice, but also exasperation and frustration in front of a man, who had never cared about the consequences for her of what he had imposed on her.
He looked at Daisy for a few moments, and then he extended his hand across the table. He took her hand, and he said calmly:
“I know what you went through. Don’t think I am insensitive and heartless. I told you then and I tell you now that it was better, since you were safe and nobody had hurt you, to say you had got lost. I wanted to spare you the long time at the police station watching through photos of suspects, trying to describe that man and that woman. You were scared, darling, and all I wanted was to take you home and help you forget what had happened ….” Daisy was shaking her head. When her father had gone to her at the gas station, she had thought he was right. She was confused, she didn't remember faces and places clearly. She had slept most of those two days, and she had a strong headache. Maybe they had given her some kind of sedative… But then, when she had started to have nightmares at night, she had begun to see things more clearly, and she had told her father that maybe she could describe the two people involved to the police. Her father had become so nervous that she had been afraid he would beat her, even if he had never raised a finger against her.
Now he said imploringly:
“Daisy, you have to trust me. What I asked you to do and to say is for your safety. If you describe those people to the police, maybe they will find them, maybe not, but I can't help fearing they have accomplices somewhere, who may come after you…” Daisy thought that her father was really worried about her, and she felt sorry for what she had just told him.
Luke went on, locking eyes with his daughter:
“Darling, please promise me that you will always stick to your story. It would be useless now to change your testimony, because those people have certainly gone God knows where, and the police will never catch them.” Daisy was reflecting on what her father was telling her. She had to admit that it made sense, that now it was too late to tell what had really happened. Maybe they wouldn't believe her, and they would certainly ask her why she hadn't told the truth immediately. They would accuse her father, but she was convinced that he had only tried to protect her.
She nodded and said finally: “Yes, dad. I know you are right when you say it is too late now. I promise I will stick to my story. You mustn't worry, I haven’t told anything different to the new policemen, and I don’t intend to. I would like you to meet them, because they are really kind and nice. They are certainly different from the boys our age, but we like spending time with them, and we just talk about volleyball, about the places around here, about our college studies and their job…”
“Ok,” Luke conceded, “but I still think they are too old for you…”
“Oh, but we just have a good time together… They certainly have girlfriends somewhere who will join them soon. They are charming, but they are just friends, don't worry, dad!”
Daisy was trying hard to find the courage to talk about the death of her mother, about something connected to that sad event that kept on bothering her, but Luke stood up abruptly, he looked at his mobile, and he leaned to kiss his daughter, before saying:
“I am sorry, darling, but I have to go now. This week I am at the Dieppe branch of the company.” Even if the company where Luke worked had moved from Fredericton to the outskirts of Rosary, they still had a branch in Dieppe, and Luke had to stay there for a few days from time to time.
“Will you come back for the weekend?” Daisy knew that she had lost her opportunity to talk to him, but she thought they would have time when she was at home for the Easter holidays. He had always been at home when she was on vacation.
“Of course I will,” he answered, and he left immediately. Daisy watched him walk fast to his car, get in and leave. When she was a child, talking to her dad soothed all her fears, but now every conversation with him left her with a strange feeling of uneasiness and impending danger. She sighed, took her bag and went back to her lessons.
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***
Anna’s Trattoria, 2:30 pm
Anna had just finished cleaning the dining room after lunch service, when the phone rang. She picked up the receiver and answered in a cheerful voice:
“Hello, Anna’s Trattoria. How can I help you?”
“Hello, Mrs Anna. I am agent David Johnson. I came to your Trattoria a couple of times with Inspector McKinley…”
In reality, Anna didn't remember the names of all the policemen who had recently arrived in town, but she answered kindly:
“Of course, Mr Johnson. Can I help you?”
“My wife is joining me in Rosary next Saturday, and I would like to reserve a table for us and our colleagues next Sunday.”
“Oh, I am glad your wife will be able to come here, Mr. Johnson. Of course I can reserve you a table. How many of you?”
“I think there will be six of us. John has told me that he is almost always there with his children and your son-in-law, I think. We will meet him there.”
“Yes, Mr Johnson. Since their wives work here every Sunday, they almost always have lunch together. So … a table for six, ok?”
“Thank you, Mrs. Anna. I have talked so much about your restaurant to my wife that she is looking forward to trying your delicious food.”
“You are very kind, and I am looking forward to meeting your wife. See you next Sunday, Mr. Johnson.”
***
Vincent Clancy's villa, 6 pm
Rachel had been restless all day. She had tried to call her father, but he had not answered. Now she saw that her grandfather was going out. On Wednesday he always went for a game of bridge and dinner at his club.
Before going out, he had sat on the sofa next to his granddaughter. He had gently caressed her hair, and had told her softly:
“Don’t worry, darling. I am sure your father will be able to explain and everything will be alright.” Even if his voice was encouraging and comforting, Rachel knew the old man too well not to notice that he had a sad look in his eyes, that he had been looking apprehensively at his daughter and granddaughter all day. She felt that her grandfather knew something, something about her father, something so serious that he didn't have the courage to tell them.
Her mother would come back from the family company in little more than half an hour. She looked around her, as if that home where she had grown up had suddenly become incredibly large and silent. She felt lost for a moment, as if she were in a strange place.
Then she made up her mind. She had to know what her grandfather had found out, what terrible secret about her father had saddened her grandpa so much that he wasn't able to talk to them about it. She had seldom seen her grandfather so sad and so embarrassed. He was usually determined in his decisions, and now he kept on looking at them with a worried expression that Rachel had seldom seen.
She went to her grandfather’s study. When she was a child, she used to sit at her grandfather’s desk to do her homework, because she liked this large room, with tall bookcases and a large window overlooking the spacious garden. She closed the door carefully, and she went straight to the big mahogany desk under the window. She opened the curtains a little to let the last sunshine into the room.
She sat down on the big leather armchair, and she had a look at the desk top. No envelopes or folders caught her attention. She knew that her grandfather was very tidy. He always kept all the documents carefully folded and cataloged in the desk drawers. The massive desk had three drawers on each side. Rachel started to open the bottom drawer on her right side, but there were just some stationery articles, she opened the bottom drawer on the opposite side, and she took out some papers. They were their company's documents, and she laid them back very carefully. The two drawers in the middle were almost empty, apart from two little photo albums. She flipped through the pages, and she felt a wave of sadness, because there were photos of family celebrations, and her grandfather was always present, but she realized that her dad was seldom there … She carefully put the albums back into the drawers. She opened the top drawer on her left, and she saw an envelope that immediately caught her attention, but she noticed that they were bank documents. She took her time to put everything back exactly as she had found it, because she knew her grandfather was very meticulous, and he would notice immediately if someone had looked through his papers.
She opened the last drawer with a heavy heart, because she thought that her grandpa had evidently taken the documents concerning her father somewhere else, or that maybe there weren't any papers… There were various sheets with reports from the company, all carefully bound together… She was going to close the drawer, when she saw an orange envelope buried at the bottom of the drawer. It evidently contained some photos, and her grandfather had taken great care to hide it. She turned it in her hands, and she read a name that she had never heard before …Private Investigator… Had her grandfather hired a PI to find out something about her father? She had heard her mother and her grandpa discussing one day, and her mum had got angry when he had hinted at the fact that he wanted to know something more about Rachel's father’s activities … What would her mum say now?
She opened the envelope carefully, trying to extract one paper at a time, but she was attracted by the bundle of photos. She … oh, my God! Who were those people with her father? Those disreputable guys? That dirty diner? That woman?… And the other smirking men, who were playing cards with her father? She was afraid of what she would read in the report attached. She braced herself against what she would discover. She had to stop reading many times, also because she was afraid that the tears that were rolling down her cheeks would stain the paper. She felt dizzy, and for a moment she was afraid she would faint, but then she got hold of herself, and a strange resolution flashed in her eyes. She carefully placed all the papers and the photos back into the envelope and the envelope back at the bottom of the drawer. She checked that everything was exactly as she had found it, she closed the curtains, and she tiptoed out of the study.
Now she knew she had to talk to her father, and he had to give her some answers… She took out her mobile phone and she dialed a text: “I know where you are when you run away from us. I have seen photos… You have to give me an explanation and I want the TRUTH! Then I don't want to see your face anymore… Answer soon, or I will go to the police and ask them to find you! R.”
***
7 pm
“Hello!”
“Hi, what's the matter?”
“I wanted to tell you that I think I will need your help in a few days…”
“Always that guy who has the bad habit of not paying you back?”
“You guessed right. Yes, but this time the job must be done without mistakes..”
“It was not our fault!”
“But this time be careful, because I need the money, and I don’t want to arouse suspicions or to attract attention to my business …”
“Ok, boss. When do you think you will need the job done?”
“I think next Sunday. I will call you with the details in a couple of days…”
“Of course. Let us know.”
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