“Gabriel, my boy,” Richard said warmly, spreading his hands as he approached my desk. On his right fourth finger, the silver serpent ring gleamed under the chandelier light—two tiny ruby chips set into the viper’s eyes. “Forgive the intrusion without calling ahead. I was driving back from Waukegan and thought we could go over the Calumet dock renewals over an espresso.”
I looked up slowly from the ledger, keeping my heartbeat at sixty beats a minute. “You brought four rifles in two town cars to drink espresso, Uncle Richard?”
Richard chuckled softly, sitting down in the exact leather chair Olivia had occupied two minutes earlier. As he crossed his legs, his eyes flicked—just for half a heartbeat—to the silver tray on the corner of my desk where two water glasses and a half-eaten sandwich sat. “You know how jittery the south-side crews have been since the tariff audit. An old man can’t be too careful. Speaking of security, though…” He leaned his elbow on the armrest, his thumb idly rubbing the head of the silver serpent ring. “One of the perimeter boys mentioned you had a contractor looking at the plaster in the east hallway this morning. Everything alright with Katarina’s portrait?”
There it was. The mole on the night shift had reported the damp canvas.
“Roof flashing leak from Tuesday’s storm,” I lied smoothly, meeting his gaze without blinking. “Condensation seeped behind the chimney flue. Daniel took the frame down so the restorer can re-stretch the linen before the Memorial Gala tonight.”
Richard’s smile remained fixed, though the skin around his eyes tightened. “Good, good. Your father would have torn this house down brick by brick if dampness ruined that painting. By the way, I heard the agency sent over a new live-in housekeeper a few weeks back. Young woman with a little girl? Tell me, did Daniel run her family background all the way back to county hospital records? We’ve had reporters snooping around old Cedar Lane charity files before tonight’s gala.”
He was fishing—and he had a net ready in the driveway.
“I fired her an hour ago,” I said coldly, closing the shipping manifest with a sharp snap. “Her kid wandered into the east wing and left fingerprints on the wainscoting. Daniel put them on the twelve-fifteen Metra train back to Rockford. Why? Since when does the consigliere of Chicago concern himself with who scrubs my floors?”
Richard studied my face for five long, silent seconds. Whatever he looked for, my expression gave him nothing back but impatient arrogance. Slowly, he inclined his head and rose to his feet, buttoning his charcoal coat. “Only looking out for your peace of mind, Gabriel. Tonight at the Drake Hotel, the board ratifies the twenty-year port trust in your mother’s name. I’ll see you at eight o’clock.”
I watched him walk out the door, waited until Daniel confirmed both town cars had cleared the main road, and immediately walked to the bookshelf—only to have Daniel slip back into the study holding an encrypted tablet whose screen was flashing a red hospital alert.