While we dealt with the past, the present made its presence known. The official police investigation into the "structural failure" at the Geneva villa was being led by Chief Inspector Laurent Giroux. He was a legend in the Swiss Federal Police, a sharp and methodical man known for his integrity. He could detect a lie like a shark senses blood.
He arrived at the penthouse two days after the manifest appeared. He was a quiet, unassuming figure in a wrinkled suit, seemingly unfazed by the luxurious surroundings. Dante, Leo, and I met him in one of the formal sitting rooms.
"Mr. Moretti," Giroux began, his voice calm and respectful, his eyes observant. "I have some questions about the unfortunate incident at your villa."
"I've given my statement," Dante said dismissively. "It was a tragic accident."
"Indeed," Giroux replied, opening a thin file. "An accident where my forensics team found traces of industrial-grade explosives near the collapsed staircase. An accident where two of your security guards had injuries typical of advanced martial arts, not from falling debris. An accident where a dozen eyewitnesses reported hearing what sounded like suppressed gunfire."
He looked up, his gaze sharp and perceptive. "It was a very loud accident, Mr. Moretti."
Dante remained composed, but I felt the tension radiating from him. Giroux was not someone to crush or bribe. He posed a different type of threat: a good man simply doing his job.
"I assure you, Inspector, my security team handled a chaotic situation as best they could," Dante said smoothly.
Giroux's eyes shifted to me for the first time. "And you are Miss Isabella Rossi. A law student. According to several guests, you were standing right next to the statue that caused the collapse. Some even claim you pushed it. A remarkable act of heroism, to prevent it from falling on the crowd below." His tone carried a hint of skepticism.
He was relentless and he had the trail. He understood that the official story was a lie, and he wouldn't let it go.
"We have nothing more to add, Inspector," Dante said, standing up, signaling that the interview was over.
Giroux stood as well, a slight knowing smile on his face. "Of course. I will be in touch." He paused at the door. "It's an interesting coincidence, Mr. Moretti. Nineteen years ago, your parents were murdered in what the police at the time labeled a 'robbery gone wrong.' That case was closed very quickly, despite many loose ends. Now, another 'accident' befalls your family. One might start to think you are a very unlucky man."
He left, creating an unsettling atmosphere. The Syndicate was a shadowy force attacking our fortress from outside. Now, we also had an honest cop trying to unlock the front door. We were stuck in a vise, with darkness on one side and light on the other, both threatening to crush us.