Chapter 10 - THE WOMAN NAMED VICTORIA VALE
By noon, Detective Carter had secured the contents of my father's hidden compartment and arranged for forensic examination of the original medical documents.
The first preliminary finding was alarming.
The report contained a handwritten dosage adjustment that did not match the version preserved in the clinic's archived records.
Someone had changed it.
We still didn't know who.
Carter also confirmed that Victoria Vale had been associated with several businesses connected to Vanessa's family. The companies had been dissolved, renamed, or transferred to new owners over the previous decade.
It was the kind of corporate maze that made money difficult to trace and responsibility even harder to establish.
“Victoria Vale may be an alias,” Carter explained as we drove back toward the city. “Or it may be the name of a real person whose identity has been used by someone else.”
“Could it be Vanessa?”
“Possibly. But we need evidence before we can make that claim.”
I looked out the window.
“Why would she use another name?”
“To separate herself from transactions she didn't want connected to her personal identity. Or because someone else was controlling the scheme.”
I thought about the photograph of Vanessa standing beside my father.
“Do you believe she knew my father?”
“The photograph suggests she did.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“It's the only honest one I can give you right now.”
We returned to the police station, where Carter introduced me to an investigator specializing in financial crimes.
Her name was Detective Elena Morris.
She had reviewed the company records and identified a pattern of transfers that began approximately eighteen months before my father's death.
The money had passed through construction companies, consulting firms, and private investment accounts before disappearing into a network of offshore entities.
Some of the transfers had been approved using my father's credentials.
Others carried my signature.
None matched the records I kept personally.
“Your father may have discovered the scheme shortly before his death,” Morris explained. “Afterward, the activity continued. Someone had access to the same systems and knew how to reproduce the approval process.”
“Vanessa?”
“We're examining her connections. But we also found several payments authorized through an account associated with Martin Cole.”
I stared at the documents.
“Does that mean Martin was involved?”
“It means the account was used. We need to determine whether he controlled it, whether his credentials were stolen, and whether someone else had access.”
I rubbed my forehead.
For years, Martin had been the person I called when a business problem seemed impossible. He had helped me navigate my father's estate and had advised me during the search for Emily.
If he had been involved, then every conversation we had shared over the past three years might have been part of an elaborate performance.
But if he was innocent, someone had used his identity to frame him just as they had used mine.
Morris placed another document on the table.
“This is the most important finding so far.”
It was a transfer authorization dated three days before my father's death.
The beneficiary was a company called Vale Strategic Services.
The authorization bore my father's signature.
But beneath it was a second signature, supposedly confirming the transfer.
V. Vale.
“Do you recognize this handwriting?” Morris asked.
I studied it.
The letters were elegant, with a distinctive upward stroke at the end of the surname.
I had seen it before.
On the engagement documents Vanessa had asked me to sign.
On the birthday cards she sent to Lily.
On a note she had left beside my coffee the morning after our first date.
“It's Vanessa's handwriting,” I said.
Morris made a note.
“Can you be certain?”
“Yes.”
“Then we'll compare it with authenticated samples.”
I stared at the signature.
The realization was devastating.
Vanessa hadn't merely entered my life after my father's death.
She had apparently been connected to the financial network before I ever met her.
Every romantic memory I had of her suddenly felt uncertain.
I remembered our first meeting at a charity auction.
She had approached me after I delivered a speech about my father's legacy. She had said she admired the way I spoke about family and responsibility.
I had been lonely.
She had been attentive.
She remembered details about my childhood, asked questions about my father, and seemed genuinely interested in the history of the company.
At the time, I had considered her curiosity a sign of compatibility.
Now I wondered whether she had already studied my life before introducing herself.
My phone rang.
Rebecca.
“Daniel, you need to come back,” she said.
“What happened?”
“Emily is awake, and she wants to talk to you. She says there's something she remembered about Victoria.”
I was already standing.
“What?”
“She won't tell me. She says she needs to speak to you in person.”
I told Morris I had to leave and promised to return with any new information.
At the secure facility, Emily was sitting upright in bed. Her color had improved slightly, and she had managed to eat a small breakfast.
Lily was beside her, reading a picture book.
When she saw me, she closed the book and ran into my arms.
“Daddy! Mommy says she might come home soon.”
I held her close.
“We'll talk about that when the doctors say it's safe.”
“Can she come home before my birthday?”
I looked at Emily.
She smiled sadly.
“We'll do everything we can, sweetheart.”
Lily returned to her book.
Emily waited until Rebecca had taken her to the common room before speaking.
“I remembered something about the name Victoria.”
“What?”
“Vanessa once received a letter addressed to Victoria Vale. It arrived at the hotel while I was still being held there.”
“When was this?”
“About six months after I disappeared.”
“What did the letter say?”
“I never saw the whole thing. But I heard Vanessa arguing with someone on the phone afterward.”
Emily closed her eyes, trying to recall the conversation.
“She said the name had been used too many times and that it was becoming difficult to maintain the separation between the accounts.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did she mention my father?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Emily's voice dropped.
“She said, 'Richard should have stayed out of it. If he had listened, none of this would have happened.'”
I sat down.
“Did she say anything else?”
“She said the original report was still missing, and that as long as it existed, no one could be certain the case was closed.”
I thought of the hidden compartment.
The original medical report was now in police custody.
But if Vanessa believed it still existed, she might not know where it had been found.
“Emily, did you ever see the man with the black ring without Vanessa present?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Once, when I was being moved between rooms. He stood at the end of the corridor and watched me.”
“Did he speak to you?”
“He asked whether I remembered his voice.”
I felt a chill.
“What did you say?”
“I told him I didn't know who he was.”
Emily's fingers trembled.
“He said that was unfortunate, because we had met before.”
“Where?”
“He wouldn't tell me.”
She swallowed.
“Then he said something I will never forget.”
“What?”
“He said, 'Your husband should have married Victoria the first time she asked.'”
I stared at her.
The words made no sense.
“First time?”
Emily nodded.
“He seemed to know something about your past. Something that happened before you met me.”
I tried to remember.
My father had arranged business dinners throughout my childhood. He had introduced me to investors, bankers, contractors, and wealthy families who wanted to build relationships with our company.
But I had never heard of a woman named Victoria Vale.
There was, however, one person who might know.
My father's younger sister, Margaret.
She had lived abroad for years and had rarely spoken about the company's early history. After my father's death, she had moved to a small coastal town and gradually withdrawn from the family.
I had spoken to her only twice in the previous three years.
Both conversations had been brief.
Neither had mentioned Vanessa.
“I need to contact my aunt,” I said.
Emily caught my hand.
“Be careful.”
“I will.”
“No, Daniel. Listen to me.”
Her gaze was intense.
“Victoria wasn't just a name on a document. Vanessa was afraid of her. The man with the ring was afraid of her too.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“Because whenever they argued, they never talked about Victoria as though she were a person who had disappeared.”
Emily took a breath.
“They talked about her as though she were someone who could come back.”
My phone vibrated.
An incoming message from an unknown number.
It contained a single line.
IF YOU WANT TO KNOW WHO VICTORIA VALE REALLY IS, ASK YOUR AUNT WHAT HAPPENED IN 1998.
I stared at the message.
Then I looked at Emily.
“Something happened in 1998?”
She nodded slowly.
“Your father told me once that he had lost someone that year. He never said who.”
I called my aunt.
She answered on the fourth ring.
“Daniel?”
“Aunt Margaret, I need to ask you something about my father.”
Her breathing changed.
“What about him?”
“Did he know a woman named Victoria Vale?”
The silence that followed lasted so long I thought the call had dropped.
Then my aunt whispered:
“Where did you hear that name?”
I gripped the phone.
“Please tell me the truth.”
Her voice trembled.
“Daniel, if that name has returned to your life, you need to leave the city immediately.”
“Why?”
“Because Victoria Vale died in 1998.”
I froze.
May you like
My aunt began to cry.
“And the woman who died was not the woman your father had been trying to protect.”
