Chapter 7 - THE ARCHIVE BENEATH THE FAMILY FOUNDATION
The Vance Foundation occupied three floors of an old limestone building on East Sixty-Third Street.
Elena had attended dozens of charity meetings there.
Children's hospitals.
Cancer research.
Veterans programs.
Educational grants.
She had never imagined the foundation might conceal the machinery of a family secret.
Julian explained that the physical archive had once been stored beneath the foundation's records room.
"Once?"
"They moved most of it years ago."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
"But some remains?"
"A directory."
"How do we access it?"
Julian hesitated.
Elena waited.
"Your fingerprint."
She stared.
"My fingerprint?"
"My grandfather changed the access system after my father tried to remove records."
"Why would my fingerprint be authorized?"
"Because Charles chose you."
Elena almost laughed.
"Your grandfather barely spoke to me."
"He researched you for six months before our wedding."
The room seemed colder.
"Excuse me?"
"He researched everyone who married into the family."
"Without telling me."
"Yes."
"And authorized me to access a secret archive?"
Julian nodded.
"Why?"
"He admired you."
"That's not comforting."
"He said accountants make better witnesses than heirs."
The sentence remained with Elena.
Witnesses.
Not family.
Not partners.
Witnesses.
By midnight Elena had contacted outside counsel, former federal prosecutor Grace Bell.
Grace was fifty-two, sharp-eyed, and allergic to melodrama.
After reviewing a fraction of the evidence, she stopped speaking for nearly a minute.
Then she said, "We do nothing alone."
Elena nodded.
"We document every step. We bring an independent investigator. If this archive contains evidence of crimes, we preserve chain of custody."
Julian protested from his hospital bed.
"The moment authorities become involved, Vesper moves the patients."
Grace looked at him.
"You already triggered that by losing control of the box."
Julian looked away.
Elena asked, "Can we go tonight?"
Grace studied her.
"Are you emotionally prepared to discover your husband belongs to a family that may have imprisoned people for decades?"
Elena answered without hesitation.
"I stopped being emotionally prepared six hours ago."
At 2:15 a.m., Elena, Grace, and investigator Thomas Reed entered the Vance Foundation.
The night security manager had been instructed to cooperate.
They descended to the basement.
Behind a storage wall, Julian's instructions led them to a narrow steel door.
No handle.
Only a biometric panel.
Elena placed her hand against it.
A green light appeared.
ACCESS ACCEPTED.
The door opened.
Inside was a room no larger than a walk-in closet.
One desk.
One terminal.
One filing cabinet.
A portrait of Charles Vance hung on the wall.
Elena hated the sight of him now.
Thomas photographed everything.
Grace opened the filing cabinet.
Empty.
Elena approached the terminal.
The screen activated automatically.
A list appeared.
VANCE CONTINUITY DIRECTORY.
There were forty-three names.
Some Elena recognized.
Politicians.
Industrialists.
Two judges.
A famous surgeon.
A media family.
All people publicly connected to tragedies, disappearances or family scandals over the last thirty years.
Beside each name was a number.
STATUS ACTIVE.
STATUS CLOSED.
STATUS TRANSFERRED.
Elena searched Daniel Vance.
STATUS ACTIVE.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
"He's alive."
Grace leaned closer.
Then Elena saw another name.
ELENA VANCE.
May you like
She stopped breathing.
STATUS PENDING.
