Chapter 7 - the stone in the wall
The cemetery gates of St. Jude were wrapped in heavy wrought iron, glistening wet in the midnight fog.
Dominic arrived alone. He had instructed Marco to stay behind and secure the mansion perimeter. For this task, he trusted no one.
The Ravello family mausoleum stood at the highest point of the hill, an imposing granite monument crowned with a carved stone angel. Dominic pulled the heavy iron gate open, the hinges groaning against the damp night.
Inside, the air smelled of cold marble and wet moss.
Dominic walked toward the center crypt where his father, Vito Ravello, had been laid to rest two years ago. The brass lettering gleamed faintly in the glow of his flashlight: *VITO RAVELLO — BELOVED FATHER AND LEADER.*
Dominic remembered his mother’s instruction: *Look behind the marble plaque.*
He inspected the carved stone border around the nameplate. Near the bottom right corner, there was a minute gap in the mortar. Dominic pulled out his steel pocketknife and wedged the blade into the crevice. With a sharp twist of his wrist, the mortar crumbled, and a rectangular section of marble slid out.
Behind the stone was a hollow recess.
Inside rested an old metal lockbox, coated in dust.
Dominic pulled it out. The lock was an old mechanical tumbler combination. Without hesitating, Dominic dialed the six numbers of his brother’s birthday: 0-4-1-9-8-2.
The lock clicked open.
Dominic lifted the lid. He expected to find bonds, bearer certificates, or perhaps Julian’s missing jewelry.
Instead, he found three items.
The first was an audio cassette tape labeled in faded marker: *VITO & MILLER - NOV 14.*
The second was an official birth certificate from an out-of-state hospital, dated six years ago—a full year *after* Julian's supposed death. The mother’s name was listed as Clara Evans. The father’s name was left blank.
The third item made Dominic's chest feel like it had been hit with a sledgehammer.
It was Julian’s gold signet ring.
The ring Dominic had supposedly seen on the drowned corpse seven years ago before the coffin was sealed.
Dominic picked up the ring. It was cold to the touch.
Suddenly, the beam of a flashlight cut through the darkness of the mausoleum entrance behind him.
"You shouldn't have dug that up, Dominic," a familiar voice echoed through the stone chamber.
May you like
Dominic turned slowly, dropping his hand toward his concealed holster.
Standing at the entrance of the crypt was Marco, his service weapon already drawn and leveled directly at Dominic's chest.
