Who knew the layout of Franco’s mansion best? His ex-wife, Victoria, was the obvious candidate. While she likely wasn’t a cat burglar herself, she certainly had the means to hire professional help for a heist—or a blackmail scheme. But she wasn’t the only one. Everyone who lived or worked within those walls was a suspect. His fiancée Isabel, his assistant Amelia, the bodyguards, the domestic staff—they all had the access and the opportunity. So, after the NDAs were processed, the team secured a second visit to the estate.
“You want to interview everyone on my payroll?” Franco asked. This time, he met them in a sun-drenched tea room. A massive glass wall faced a garden dominated by a towering, shimmering Natalis Invicti tree.
“Not all of them just yet,” Report Man replied, pen and notebook ready. “Do you have anyone in mind? Someone you personally suspect?”
“My ex-wife, Victoria?” Franco laughed, the sound echoing off the glass. “If I were found murdered, she’d be the prime suspect. But for a burglary? I don’t see the motive. And as for blackmail—as I’ve said, I have nothing to fear.”
“Do you know what the intruder was looking for?” Trevor interjected. “From the security reports, it seems they went straight for your master bedroom. They were looking for something specific.”
Franco hesitated. His laughter died down as he considered his answer. “My watches? Jewelry? I keep a few heirloom antiques in there to remind me of my father. Perhaps the bedroom was just the first stop. It was a male, based on the footage, but the security team spooked him before he could move on to other rooms. Or,” he added, regaining his smug grin, “maybe entering my bedroom was a message. A way of saying they could touch me whenever they liked.”
“We believe the intruder—whatever their gender—knew the layout of this house perfectly,” Report Man said. “They also knew your routine. They knew you wouldn’t be home that night.”
“Possible,” Franco grumbled. “I live a private life, but I’ve hosted many people here. I’ve given tours. And that day, I was at a summit in Angel City; my business partners and my competitors all knew I’d be away.”
“Did you ever bring any of other ‘partners’ into your bedroom?” Lady News asked, her eyebrows arched in a knowing, gossipy smile.
Franco paused, then sighed. “Since you’ve signed the NDAs, I’ll be blunt: yes. But that was over a year ago. I’ve been faithful since I met Isabel, so I doubt my former flames are involved. Besides, if you want to interview every woman I’ve ever invited over, you’re going to need a much longer notebook.” He laughed again, though this time the sound was dry and annoyed.
“Thank you for your honesty,” Lady News said smoothly. “Next, we’d like to speak with those closest to you now: Isabel, your assistant Amelia, and your security detail.”
“You can start with Jimmy, my head of security,” Franco said, gesturing to the man standing nearby. “I’m taking Isabel and Amelia to tea with some business associates shortly.” He walked over to Jimmy and whispered something in his ear.
Jimmy nodded and spoke into his smartwatch: “R, D, tea room. Now.” Two bodyguards appeared instantly. Jimmy gave them their orders, and they took up positions by the door.
“If there’s nothing else, I have a meeting to prepare for,” Franco said, rising. “Jimmy will look after you. Food, drink, a tour of the grounds—whatever you need, just ask him.”
Once Franco had departed with his new escort, Jimmy sat on the sofa. He had short blond hair, a noticeable double chin, and a physique so muscular it seemed to strain against his tight white shirt. However, he seemed more used to standing than sitting. He perched awkwardly on the edge of the very sofa his boss had occupied moments before, shifting constantly, unable to find a comfortable posture.
“Relax, Jimmy,” Lady News grinned. “This isn’t a televised interrogation.”
“Right,” Jimmy said with an awkward smile.
“Why don’t you start by introducing yourself?” Report Man prompted. “How long have you been with Mr. Franco? And were you on duty the night of the break-in?”
“I’ve worked for Mr. Franco for over twenty years,” Jimmy said quickly, the words tumbling out. “I started as a driver, moved to personal security, and became the team lead five years ago. I know him better than anyone. But I’ve got no reason to rob him. He pays me well—well enough to put my kids through private school and keep my wife in the most stylish dresses. She’s a Premium member on the Dressrious app, and so am I. We’re living the dream, thanks to Mr. Franco.” He took a breath, looking relieved to have said it. “We have ten men on the team. Four stay here, three are with Mr. Franco at all times, and three are on standby for shifts. That night, I was with Mr. Franco at his penthouse in Angel City along with Robin and Dan. Only the four-man house crew was on-site.”
“Do you think any other members of your team hold a grudge against Mr. Franco?” Spion asked.
“Not that I’m aware of,” Jimmy replied. “Mr. Franco is a generous man. He pays us all very well.”
“What about other suspects?” Report Man asked, leaning in. “Anyone you think might have a beef with him—someone he might have overlooked?”
“That’s a long list,” Jimmy admitted with a touch of reverence. “Mr. Franco is a wolf in the business world; he never shows mercy to his rivals.”
“Do you think any of them are bold enough to blackmail him?” Lady News asked.
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t pay much attention to the details of his business dealings—I don’t really understand them, anyway,” Jimmy admitted. “But I do know he knows a lot of powerful people. In fact, no one dares to challenge him anymore. His former competitors are either bankrupt or in jail. I don’t think any of them have the strength left to threaten him.”
“What about the night of the burglary? Did you or your team notice anyone suspicious lurking nearby? And be honest—could a member of the staff or your own security detail have slipped someone into the house?” Lady News asked.
“As far as I know, no. No one enters without permission from Mr. Franco or Isabel.” Jimmy paused. His eyes darted toward the floor, and his hands shook slightly. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I have a confession. I’m telling you this because I hope you won’t tell Mr. Franco… and because I think I need help.”
The team leaned forward.
“I think I know what the burglar was looking for,” Jimmy said. “The Tinderbox.”
“The Tinderbox?” Trevor repeated.
“It’s a heavy, fist-sized cube,” Jimmy explained. “Mr. Franco carries it everywhere. But on the day of the wedding, he had to wear a tuxedo and asked me to hold it in my belt bag. After the party, I put it back in his bedroom drawer. But when I did, I realized… it was too light. The Tinderbox had been swapped for a fake. And Mr. Franco hasn’t realized it yet.”