Chapter 6 - THE GHOST IN THE SILVER LOCKET
Richard took a step backward, his eyes locked on the silver locket dangling from Martha’s fingers. The arrogant, untouchable man who had stood in the doorway seconds ago was suddenly sweating.
“Where did you get that?” Richard demanded, his voice dropping its smooth veneer. “I threw that in the river twenty years ago.”
“You told me you threw it in the river,” Martha corrected him, her voice remarkably steady. “But you couldn't bear to part with the gold key inside it, could you? I found it hidden behind the baseboard in your study when I was packing my bags this morning.”
Luca closed the apartment door, shutting Richard inside with us. He crossed his arms, his massive frame blocking the exit. “Who is Elise?” Luca asked.
“His first wife,” Martha said, keeping her eyes on Richard. “Celine’s mother. Richard told everyone she died of a sudden heart attack when Celine was just a baby. He played the grieving widower perfectly.”
I looked at the locket. “What does it prove?”
“Open it,” Richard hissed, lunging forward.
Luca grabbed Richard by the lapels of his trench coat and shoved him hard against the wall. “Stay exactly where you are.”
Martha popped the silver clasp of the locket.
Inside, there wasn't a photograph. Tucked into the small silver recess was a tiny, folded piece of yellowed parchment paper, and a small, intricately carved gold key.
Martha carefully unfolded the brittle paper.
“Elise didn't die of a heart attack,” Martha read aloud, her voice echoing in the quiet kitchen. “She wrote this note two days before she died. ‘Richard is draining the family trust. I found the poison in his briefcase. If I die, look in the Zurich vault. The gold key is my proof.’”
The silence in the room was absolute.
I felt a chill run down my spine. “He murdered her.”
“He poisoned his first wife to steal her family’s wealth,” Martha said, staring at the man she had lived with for thirty-four years. “And when the money finally ran out ten years ago, he went bankrupt. That’s why Celine came back into his life.”
Luca’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Richard, who was breathing heavily against the wall. “Celine knew. She knew you killed her mother, and she was blackmailing you.”
“She’s a parasite!” Richard spat, finally cracking. “She tracked me down five years ago. She found a copy of the Zurich bank records. She told me if I didn't fund her lifestyle, she’d take the proof to the authorities. But I was broke! So we made a deal.”
“She marries me,” Luca realized, the disgust evident on his face. “She marries a billionaire, funnels the money into an offshore account under Martha’s name, and you both split the payout. Celine gets her mother’s stolen inheritance back, and you get a comfortable retirement while your innocent wife takes the fall for the embezzlement.”
It was brilliant, twisted, and utterly ruthless.
“It’s over, Richard,” Martha said, closing the locket. “I’m taking this to the police tonight.”
Before anyone could move, the sound of high heels clicking rapidly down the hallway echoed through the thin door.
The door burst open.
Celine stood in the doorway, her red gown torn at the hem, her makeup smeared. She looked frantic, her eyes darting from Luca, to Richard against the wall, to the silver locket in Martha’s hand.
“Don’t you dare give that to the police!” Celine screamed, pointing a shaking finger at Martha.
Luca stepped toward his former fiancée. “Celine, it’s over. I know everything.”
“You don't know anything, Luca!” Celine cried, stepping into the room and slamming the door behind her. She glared at Richard with pure hatred. “He didn't just steal my mother’s money. He stole my life! I had to pretend to be an orphan. I had to scrape by while he lived in a mansion with her!”
She pointed at Martha.
“I didn't know,” Martha whispered, tears finally falling. “Celine, I swear to you, I didn't know who you were until tonight.”
“It doesn't matter!” Celine yelled. She reached into her expensive clutch purse and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She held it up for me to see.
“You think you’re so righteous, Claire?” Celine sneered at me. “You think you’re just the innocent event coordinator trying to help a battered wife?”
I froze. “What are you talking about?”
Celine unfolded the paper. It was a copy of the fraudulent power of attorney Richard had used to open the offshore account. The one that was going to send Martha to prison.
“Richard didn't forge this by himself,” Celine said, a cruel, desperate smile spreading across her face. She tapped the notary seal at the bottom of the page. “He needed a notary who would backdate the signature and look the other way. Someone who owed him money.”
Celine threw the paper onto the kitchen table.
I looked down at the signature beneath the red notary stamp.
My breath caught in my throat. The room started to spin.
The signature belonged to Sarah Jenkins.
May you like
My mother.
“Your mother stamped the fake documents, Claire,” Celine whispered maliciously. “If you take that locket to the police, Richard goes to jail for murder. But your dead mother’s name gets dragged through federal court, and the bank seizes your family home to pay off her fraudulent debts.”
