Chapter 3 - THE MAN WHO MADE THE COPY
“What didn’t I know?”
Luca asked it three times.
Nobody answered.
Because none of us could.
Vanessa knew pieces.
I understood metal.
Luca understood his father.
But whatever Raymond had carried for twelve years sat somewhere between all three.
Luca picked up the newer ring from the champagne bucket.
“Who made this?”
I turned it beneath the light again.
Now that I had the original beside it, the differences became clearer.
Someone had been very good.
Not perfect.
Good.
The crest had been cast from an impression of Matteo’s ring.
The edges were artificially dulled.
The gold had been chemically darkened around the engraving to mimic age.
But inside the lower shoulder, I saw something I had missed downstairs.
A maker’s mark.
Two tiny letters.
B.C.
“Does that mean anything to you?”
Luca’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes.”
Vanessa whispered, “Benedict Crane.”
“Who?”
I asked.
“My father’s jeweler.”
Luca stood.
“He repaired family pieces for thirty years.”
“Still working?”
“Retired.”
“Chicago?”
“Lincoln Park.”
Vanessa took a step toward him.
“Luca, it’s almost nine.”
He gave her a look.
“You’ve waited eight months. I’m done waiting.”
Twenty minutes later, Benedict Crane answered his apartment door wearing slippers and an old cardigan.
He was eighty-one.
He recognized Luca immediately.
Then he saw the rings.
His face changed.
“Come inside.”
His living room looked more like a workshop than a home.
Magnifying lamps.
Watch tools.
Velvet trays.
Old wooden drawers labeled in pencil.
It reminded me so much of my father’s shop that I had to look away for a second.
Crane placed the original ring under a loupe.
Then the copy.
“Yes.”
Luca stood beside him.
“Yes what?”
“I made this one.”
Vanessa’s hand tightened around her purse.
“When?”
“Twelve years ago.”
Exactly when Raymond disappeared.
“Who ordered it?”
Crane looked at Luca.
“Your uncle.”
Nobody moved.
“Dominic?”
“Yes.”
“Did my father know?”
“I assumed so.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Crane removed the loupe.
“Matteo was my client. Dominic brought me a wax impression of the ring and said Matteo wanted a duplicate.”
“For what?”
“Emergency replacement.”
I almost laughed.
People did not make emergency replacements of twenty-six-year-old signet rings.
Not exact copies.
Not without reason.
I pointed toward the initials.
“Did you engrave R.C.H. inside?”
Crane frowned.
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“I carved every letter in that shop myself for fifty-three years.”
He turned the ring.
“That engraving isn’t mine.”
Luca looked at me.
I nodded.
I had already suspected it.
The initials had been scratched after the band was polished.
Not part of the original work.
Someone had taken a clean duplicate of Matteo Marino’s ring and added Raymond Hale’s initials later.
“Why?” Vanessa whispered.
Crane answered gently.
“To make someone believe it belonged to Raymond.”
The room changed.
For twelve years, the family story had been simple.
Raymond stole money.
Raymond betrayed Matteo.
Raymond disappeared.
Now someone had manufactured an object designed to connect Raymond to Matteo’s identity.
Maybe to suggest he had copied the family ring.
Maybe to suggest he wanted access to something.
Maybe just to make him look obsessed with becoming a Marino.
Whatever the purpose, it wasn’t sentimental.
Luca paced toward the window.
“My uncle had this made.”
Vanessa said, “That doesn’t mean he engraved it.”
“No.”
“But he lied when he said Raymond made copies of family jewelry.”
Luca stopped.
“What?”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
I saw the mistake register immediately.
“He told you that?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Two months ago.”
“You spoke to Dominic about Raymond?”
“I asked carefully.”
“That’s not carefully.”
“I didn’t tell him Raymond was my uncle.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Vanessa’s face hardened.
“Don’t put this entirely on me.”
“I’m not.”
“You look like you are.”
“I am trying to understand why my fiancée spent months investigating my family without telling me.”
“Because every time Raymond’s name came up, your family spoke about him like he was dirt.”
“That doesn’t mean I would.”
“I didn’t know that.”
Luca looked wounded.
“After nine months?”
Vanessa’s anger disappeared.
“That’s the problem, Luca.”
“What?”
“I fell in love with you before I figured out how to tell you why I first wanted to know you.”
He stopped moving.
There it was.
A worse truth.
Not criminal.
Personal.
“You met me because of Raymond.”
“At first.”
Luca’s jaw tightened.
“How?”
“Your foundation gala last year. I knew your name. I knew who your father was.”
“And you introduced yourself.”
“Yes.”
“Because of the case.”
“No. Raymond was still alive then.”
Vanessa hesitated.
“He told my mother one thing before he died.”
“What?”
“That if I ever met Luca Marino, I shouldn’t judge him by his father.”
Luca stared at her.
“Why would he say that?”
“I don’t know.”
Emily the house staff member in me wanted to leave.
Emily the jeweler’s daughter knew we had not finished with Crane.
I looked at the old man.
“You said Dominic brought you the wax impression.”
“Yes.”
“Did he ever come back?”
Crane’s hands stilled.
Luca noticed.
“When?”
Crane looked uncomfortable.
“Yesterday.”
Vanessa went pale.
Luca’s voice flattened.
“My uncle was here yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
Crane looked toward the duplicate ring.
“He asked me a strange question.”
“What question?”
The old jeweler swallowed.
“He asked whether anyone who truly understood antique jewelry could tell that ring from Matteo’s original.”
I felt every eye turn toward me.
Crane continued.
“I told him yes.”
“What did Dominic say?”
“He asked how.”
“And?”
“I told him wear couldn’t be faked perfectly.”
The old man looked at me.
“Someone like her would see it.”
My stomach dropped.
Yesterday Dominic Marino had asked whether a jewelry-trained person could identify the copy.
Tonight, Vanessa’s hidden replica had appeared at the bottom of a champagne bucket.
And by accident, the person who found it was the one woman in the house who could tell everyone it was false.
Luca looked at me.
Then at Vanessa.
Then at the copy.
May you like
“He knew this ring was going to appear tonight.”
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