“Ask your lead contractor,” Giovanni said. “Ask him to check the routing numbers you gave him.”

I could hear a faint murmuring in the background of the call.

Giovanni was planting the seed of doubt.

He was using the financial records he had kept to turn Vance’s own hired guns against him.

“Don’t listen to him!” Vance yelled.

“The money isn’t there, gentlemen,” Giovanni said, his voice steady and cold. “But I have the real ledger right here.”

A sudden burst of static cut off the conversation.

The speaker went completely dead.

“What happened?” Sullivan asked, his voice shaking.

“The line was cut,” I said.

“We have to go,” I added, turning my back on the ladder.

We began to walk quickly down the narrow brick tunnel.

The ground was slick with green moss and mud.

Every few steps, my boots would slide, and I had to tense my muscles to keep from falling with Luca.

The air grew thicker, smelling of old iron and river water.

“How far does this go?” Sullivan asked.

“It leads to the old boathouse on the bank of the Charles River,” I said. “Giovanni keeps a launch there.”