Chapter 5 - THE MISSING WILL
Victor changed the locks on the guesthouse the following morning.
Eleanor returned from a meeting with Adrian to find her clothes, photographs, and personal papers arranged in boxes beside the road.
A note had been taped to the front door.
Until your medical evaluation is complete, access to Hale property is suspended.
Eleanor stood in the rain and read the note twice.
Arthur’s death had broken something inside Victor, but Vanessa had not created his cruelty from nothing. She had merely given it permission to grow.
A moving truck arrived twenty minutes later.
Adrian stepped out of the passenger side.
“I thought this might happen,” he said.
“You arranged a truck before telling me?”
“I arranged three possibilities before breakfast.”
They transported Eleanor’s belongings to a townhouse owned by one of the Ashford trusts.
It was smaller than the mansion but elegant, quiet, and entirely hers.
For the first time in eighteen months, Eleanor slept in a room no one could take from her.
The next morning, Adrian placed a copy of Arthur’s electronic will on the dining table.
“This is the document the board presented after the storage fire,” he said.
Eleanor examined the signature.
“It looks real.”
“It is real.”
She looked up.
“Arthur signed this?”
“Yes. But it was never intended to be his final will.”
Adrian opened another folder.
“Arthur signed multiple provisional documents while restructuring the company. This version gave Victor operational control but not ownership of the protected assets.”
“Then where is the final version?”
“Vanessa believed it was destroyed in the fire.”
“Was it?”
“I do not know.”
Eleanor remembered the video.
“The western wing.”
Adrian nodded.
“Arthur said it contained something essential. It may be the original will.”
“Why was the wing sealed?”
“Officially, because of structural damage after an electrical fire twelve years ago.”
“And unofficially?”
“Arthur used it as a secure archive.”
The mansion’s western wing had once contained guest rooms, an art gallery, and Arthur’s private map collection. After the fire, he closed it permanently. Even Eleanor had not been allowed inside.
At the time, she thought he was protecting dangerous architecture.
Now she understood he had been protecting information.
“We need to enter it before the birthday,” she said.
“It is the most heavily secured section of the estate.”
“I know a tunnel.”
“The tunnel leads to the cellar, not the western wing.”
“The compass may know another way.”
That evening, Eleanor and Adrian returned to the estate after the security shift changed.
The garden passage opened with the silver key.
They moved through the underground corridor until the compass needle turned toward a blank wall.
Adrian examined the stones.
“This section is newer than the rest.”
Eleanor pressed the compass against the wall.
A faint vibration traveled through the brass casing.
One stone clicked inward.
A doorway opened.
Behind it was an iron staircase descending deeper beneath the mansion.
The air below was cold and dry. Electric lights activated as they walked.
The passage ended in a steel elevator.
The compass fit into a circular slot beside the door.
When Eleanor inserted it, the elevator opened.
They rose three floors and emerged inside the western wing.
Dust covered the floor, but the rooms were not damaged.
There had never been a structural fire.
Arthur had created the story to keep everyone away.
The first room held shelves of legal documents and hard drives.
The second contained maps marked with international shipping routes.
The third was empty except for a long table and an old telephone.
Adrian picked up the receiver.
There was a dial tone.
“This line is active.”
“Who pays for it?”
“Arthur’s private accounts, probably.”
Eleanor continued toward the end of the corridor.
A locked door stood beneath a brass plaque.
A.H.
The compass opened it.
Arthur’s hidden office waited inside.
His coat hung behind the door.
A cup rested beside an antique coffee machine.
A calendar on the wall remained open to the month of his disappearance.
On the desk was a sealed envelope addressed to Victor.
Eleanor did not open it.
Instead, she searched the cabinets.
Adrian found the original trust documents, but the final will was missing.
“Someone has been here,” he said.
A layer of dust covered most of the desk, but a rectangular space near the telephone was clean.
Something had recently been removed.
Eleanor looked at the calendar.
A handwritten note appeared on the day before Arthur’s flight.
V, 10 p.m. Last chance.
“Victor met him here,” she said.
Adrian approached.
“The night before the airport argument.”
A red light flashed on the telephone.
Then it rang.
Both of them froze.
Eleanor answered.
“Hello?”
For several seconds, there was only breathing.
Then a distorted voice spoke.
“You should not have entered the western wing.”
“Who is this?”
“Leave the mansion.”
“Did you take Arthur’s will?”
A pause.
“You are asking the wrong question.”
“What is the right question?”
The voice changed, becoming clearer.
“Ask who gave Arthur the compass.”
The line went dead.
Adrian checked the telephone display.
“No number.”
Eleanor placed the receiver down.
A metallic sound echoed in the corridor.
The elevator doors were closing.
Someone had arrived.
Adrian switched off the office light and pulled Eleanor behind the desk.
Footsteps approached.
A figure entered carrying a flashlight.
Eleanor could not see the face, but she recognized the shape of the shoulders.
Victor.
He walked directly to Arthur’s desk and opened the top drawer.
From his jacket, he removed a folded legal document.
The missing will.
He placed it inside.
Then he whispered to the empty room.
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
Eleanor rose.
Victor turned.
The flashlight fell from his hand.
“Mother?”
“What are you doing with Arthur’s will?”
Victor looked toward Adrian.
His fear turned to anger.
“You brought him here?”
Adrian stepped forward.
“Why did you hide the document?”
Victor backed toward the door.
“I didn’t hide it.”
“You just placed it in the desk,” Eleanor said.
“I was returning it.”
“Returning it from where?”
Victor looked at her.
“Vanessa’s safe.”
Eleanor’s anger weakened into surprise.
“You took it from her?”
“She doesn’t know.”
“Why?”
May you like
Victor lowered his voice.
“Because I finally read it.”
