Chapter 525
Chapter 525:
“Okay.” Peter Carl sounded like he had more questions, but I wasn’t in the mood.
I called Inspector Silva.
“I was just about to ring you,” he said.
The cold feeling turned to stone. “Tell me p>
“Fabrizio Marchetti has fled the country p>
“When?” My mouth went dry.
“Sometime last night. More precisely, early this morning, around 3 a.m p>
“How? I thought you had men watching him p>
“We did. He slipped out of the city on a bus, ditched his phone, probably crossed into Luxembourg, and caught a flight to Sydney. By now, he’s likely landed in Rarotonga.” Silva’s voice was thick with regret.
“You can’t touch him there p>
“We can’t.” Silva sighed. “We were so close. Someone must’ve tipped him off p>
“Last night, at the dinner p>
“Not you. I’m not pointing fingers. Fabrizio had help. Someone with the means to organize a new passport and get him out. We’re working on it. In the meantime p>
“I need to get to the office p>
“I doubt he left anything useful behind p>
“He left me a letter p>
That got Silva’s attention. “I’ll meet you there in half an hour p>
I rushed out and flagged down a taxi. My thoughts were blank. Fabrizio was gone. Just like that.
I knew Silva had no reason to lie to me, but part of me still couldn’t believe it. Even as he coached me on what to ask, even as I played along, it never felt entirely real.
“We’re here,” the driver said.
I paid and jumped out, rushed past the smiling receptionist, and took the lift up to my floor.
𝓒𝓱𝓮𝓬𝓴 𝓬𝓸𝓹𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝗵𝓮𝗿𝗲: gⱯ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⩶𝗰𝗈𝗺
The white envelope was on my desk, just like Peter Carl had said.
Silva wasn’t here yet. He’d probably tell me not to touch it, to let forensics handle it. I didn’t wait.
I tore it open and pulled out a single sheet of paper.
It was handwritten. All it said was: “I’m sorry p>
“What’s wrong?” Peter Carl strolled over, holding a coffee. “You look like someone just died p>
I looked up, stunned.
Everyone at the company, except for me, had been kept in the dark about the investigation. But now, it was all going to come out. What would happen to Peter Carl? To the others? What would they do when they found out that Fabrizio had bankrupted the company and bailed instead of staying to fix what he had broken?
“I’ve been thinking about your idea for that pierced openwork collar necklace,” Peter Carl said, breezy as ever. “It could work, but we’ll probably run into sourcing issues. The suppliers are all playing hardball. No one wants to release their stones unless they see a check.” He shrugged. “Everyone’s in it for the money, eh? I, on the other hand,” he said, thumping his chest, “live for the art p>
I licked my lips, dry and cracked. I didn’t have the heart to tell him he was about to lose his job.
In fact, everyone at Valmont & Cie would be out of work once the investors realized the company was an empty shell. They’d liquidate everything just to recover what they could.