Chapter 4 - The Apartment With No Heat
We reached Building 18 before the television crews.
Smoke rolled from two third-floor windows.
Families stood on the sidewalk wrapped in blankets.
A little girl clutched a cat carrier with no cat inside.
Firefighters were still searching.
I stepped out of the car.
A man recognized me immediately.
"Moretti!"
Not admiration.
Rage.
"You own this place!"
Another tenant turned.
Then another.
Thomas moved closer to me.
"Maybe stay back."
"No."
A woman pushed through the crowd.
"My son told management the outlet was sparking three weeks ago."
I looked at the building manager standing near the fire truck.
He avoided my eyes.
"Is that true?"
"We had a work order."
"Completed?"
"Scheduled."
"Your records say the entire electrical system was replaced six months ago."
He swallowed.
"I don't handle capital."
Of course.
Nobody handled the thing directly in front of them.
That was how systems survived.
Responsibility sliced thin enough that everyone could pretend they held none.
The fire chief approached.
"Mr. Moretti?"
"Yes."
"We have everyone accounted for. Two smoke inhalation transports. No critical injuries."
My knees almost loosened.
"Cause?"
"Too early. But initial origin looks electrical."
I closed my eyes for half a second.
Then I opened them.
"You get anything you need. Records, access, contractors."
"Already requested."
"From who?"
"Your corporate office."
I looked at Thomas.
"Who responded?"
The chief checked.
"Adrian Keller."
Fast again.
Always fast.
Before I could call him, a reporter shouted from behind the barricade.
"Mr. Moretti! How long have you known about unsafe conditions in your properties?"
Another:
"Did your company falsify repair reports?"
Another:
"Are you profiting from subsidized housing?"
I stared.
They knew too much too soon.
A woman in a red coat held up a packet.
"We have contracts with your signature approving capital repairs at this building."
Thomas whispered:
"Leak."
Yes.
Someone wanted my name in front of cameras before I understood the numbers.
I walked to the barrier.
"I learned today that Moretti-affiliated entities own this building."
The reporter laughed.
"You expect people to believe you didn't know what you owned?"
"I expect people to verify what I say."
"Did you sign these?"
She held up the contract.
I could not lie.
"My executive authorization appears on them."
The crowd erupted.
Thomas grabbed my arm.
"Enough."
I pulled free.
The reporter shouted:
"So yes?"
"I did not personally approve the work represented by those invoices."
"Then who did?"
Adrian's name sat on my tongue.
I stopped.
Not because I wanted to protect him.
Because I wanted proof before accusation.
"We're investigating."
The boos started.
I deserved some of them.
Not because I ordered fake repairs.
Because my name had been powerful enough to make bad paper look trustworthy.
I returned to Hannah's building after midnight.
I needed to see the heating system myself before the inspection teams arrived.
Hannah opened the door in sweatpants and an old sweater.
"You should be sleeping."
"So should you."
Fair.
Eli and Ben slept in the bedroom.
The portable heater glowed orange.
I checked the radiator.
Barely warm.
Hannah handed me the property file Thomas had left.
"What does this mean?"
She pointed to an invoice.
UNIT 3B - FURNACE REPLACEMENT - $34,760.
Her apartment.
"It means somebody billed thirty-four thousand dollars for work you never received."
She stared.
"Thirty-four thousand?"
"Yes."
"I asked them to fix the window last winter and they told me the budget was exhausted."
My jaw tightened.
"Which window?"
She showed me.
Cold air moved around the frame.
Plastic taped over one corner.
Invoice:
WINDOW REPLACEMENT COMPLETE.
I touched the glass.
Old.
Scratched.
Hannah watched me.
"You really didn't know."
It was not forgiveness.
Just a statement.
"No."
"But you signed things."
"Yes."
"Without reading them."
"Some of them."
She looked away.
I felt smaller than I had in years.
Then she opened the utility closet.
Keller Property Services sticker.
I photographed the serial number.
The original furnace was installed fifteen years ago.
No replacement.
No ambiguity.
My phone rang.
Lena.
"I found ownership records for Keller Property Services."
"Adrian?"
"Not directly. His cousin, Marcus Keller, owns fifty-one percent."
"Other forty-nine?"
"A trust."
"Beneficiary?"
"Still tracing."
Hannah leaned against the counter.
"My mom knew that name."
I turned.
"Keller?"
"Yes."
"How?"
She rubbed her arms.
"She did bookkeeping before she got sick. Temporary work. Invoices."
My pulse kicked.
"For Keller Property Services?"
"I think so."
"Do you have any of her papers?"
"Maybe."
She went to a closet.
Pulled down a cracked plastic storage bin.
Inside:
Tax forms.
Old school records.
Hospital bills.
Photographs.
She searched.
Then stopped.
A photograph lay near the bottom.
Her mother.
Elena Cole.
Standing outside a coffee shop.
Across from her:
Adrian Keller.
Younger.
Same face.
Same posture.
Hannah turned the photograph over.
Her hand began shaking.
Black ink.
Elena's handwriting.
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME, HE KNOWS WHY.
Hannah looked at me.
"Why was my mother meeting your best friend?"
I had no answer.
Then someone knocked hard on the apartment door.
Three times.
Not a neighbor.
Not polite.
Hannah went still.
I moved between her and the door.
"Who is it?"
A man's voice answered:
"Child Protective Services."
The fire chief returned before I left Building 18.
He handed me a melted breaker component in an evidence bag.
"Old aluminum branch wiring," he said.
"Records say copper replacement."
"Records are wrong."
I looked at the blackened metal.
Two people had gone to the hospital because somebody billed for safety and delivered paper.
The reporter shouted another question from behind the barrier.
"Mr. Moretti, will you reimburse displaced tenants?"
I turned.
"Tonight."
Thomas leaned close.
"We should clear that with legal."
"Then legal can catch up."
For once, I was done waiting for a committee to approve basic decency.
I ordered hotel rooms, transportation, food cards, medication replacements.
No waivers.
No releases.
No signatures giving up claims.
If the company caused harm, assistance would not be used to purchase silence.
Hannah folded Elena's photograph into her palm.
May you like
Neither of us called the meeting a coincidence.
CUT.
