Chapter 4 - Her Father’s Last Instruction
The servants’ corridor smelled of cedar, dust, and stone chilled by years without sunlight.
Marta closed the concealed door behind them and guided Claire through the darkness. She used her phone only once, letting the screen glow for a few seconds before switching it off.
“Derek monitors the mansion’s network,” Claire whispered.
“He monitors more than that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Last month he installed microphones in your father’s office, the library, and the breakfast room.”
“How do you know?”
“The technician told me he was improving the fire alarm. I watched him place a device beneath your desk.”
Claire remembered private conversations with Elias, calls to her accountants, and discussions about adding Rose as a future beneficiary.
Derek had been listening to everything.
At the end of the corridor, Marta stopped before a steel door concealed behind a paneled wall.
The brass key fit the lock.
Claire turned it.
Nothing happened.
Then she noticed a second opening beneath the first, smaller and circular.
“It requires two keys,” Marta said.
Claire’s hope collapsed.
“Where is the other one?”
“Your father gave it to Mr. Whitmore.”
They returned to Claire’s bedroom through another passage near the library. Derek was no longer outside the door, but the damaged lock showed he had entered.
The shoe box containing Marta’s recorder was open.
The recorder was gone.
Derek had left a folded note on the bed.
YOU SHOULD HAVE TRUSTED YOUR HUSBAND.
Marta read it over Claire’s shoulder.
“He knows.”
“He knows we recorded him. He doesn’t know what we heard.”
Claire looked at the empty shoe box.
“No. He knows exactly what was on it. That’s why he took it.”
Her new phone vibrated inside her pocket.
Only Elias had the number.
Claire answered.
“I need your father’s key,” he said without greeting.
“How did you know?”
“Marta called me from the kitchen line an hour ago.”
Claire glanced at her.
Marta gave a small shrug.
“Can you come here?” Claire asked.
“Not safely. Derek has someone watching my office.”
“Then where do we meet?”
“We don’t.”
A notification appeared on the phone. Elias had sent an image of a deposit box receipt.
“Your father placed my key in a private vault,” Elias said. “The vault requires your fingerprint and a verification phrase.”
“What phrase?”
“He said you would know it when the time came.”
“I don’t.”
“Then think about the final conversation you had with him.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Henry Vale had died six years earlier after a short illness. During his last week, he often drifted between clarity and sleep. On the final night, Claire sat beside him while rain tapped against the windows.
He had taken her hand and said, Your mother hid roses where winter could not reach them.
At the time, Claire thought he was speaking about the greenhouse.
Now she looked at the infant in her arms.
“Roses beneath glass,” she whispered.
“What?” Elias asked.
“The verification phrase might be ‘Roses beneath glass.’”
“I’ll arrange access.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow at eleven. You will need to leave the mansion without Derek knowing.”
Claire looked toward the damaged lock.
“That may be difficult.”
“Then give him a reason to send you away.”
The next morning, Claire told Derek she wanted to visit a private pediatric specialist.
He stood at the breakfast table, stirring coffee he had not tasted.
“Rose has already been examined.”
“I want another opinion.”
“About what?”
“She slept longer than usual.”
“That is what babies do.”
Lorraine entered wearing a pale blue suit.
“Which specialist?” she asked.
“Dr. Simon Reeves.”
Derek and Lorraine exchanged another glance.
It was becoming easier to notice.
“I’ll come with you,” Derek said.
“No.”
“You shouldn’t travel alone.”
“Marta will drive.”
“Then my mother will join you.”
Claire forced herself to appear uncertain.
“I suppose that would be helpful.”
Lorraine relaxed.
Derek did not.
He walked around the table and placed both hands on the back of Claire’s chair.
“Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“So I can add the doctor’s address.”
“I already have it.”
“Claire.”
She looked up at him.
His tone softened.
“You know I’m trying to protect you.”
“From whom?”
“From choices you may regret when you feel better.”
The sentence confirmed everything on the stolen recording.
Derek was already creating a language of incapacity.
Claire handed him her regular phone, the one Elias had warned her not to trust.
Derek entered an address and returned it.
“Your appointment is at noon,” he said. “Mother will take you directly there and bring you home.”
At ten thirty, Lorraine sat beside Claire in the rear of the SUV. Marta drove.
Rose rested in an approved infant carrier secured between them.
Lorraine watched Claire closely.
“You look tired.”
“I am tired.”
“You seem confused.”
“I know where I am.”
Lorraine smiled.
“No one suggested otherwise.”
Claire leaned back.
At the first traffic light, Marta turned suddenly into a hotel entrance.
“What are you doing?” Lorraine asked.
“Engine warning.”
“There was no warning.”
Marta stopped beneath the covered driveway.
Before Lorraine could open her door, a hotel employee approached carrying a clipboard.
“Mrs. Mercer?” he said.
Lorraine lowered the window.
“Yes?”
“There is a problem with the reservation for this afternoon’s charity luncheon. They need your signature immediately.”
“I don’t have a luncheon here.”
The employee handed her the clipboard.
“Your name is on the booking.”
Lorraine stepped out to inspect it.
Marta locked the doors.
The SUV moved before Lorraine understood what had happened.
She struck the window with her palm and shouted Claire’s name, but Marta had already turned into traffic.
Claire looked through the rear glass.
The hotel employee removed his cap.
Elias stood beneath it.
He gave Claire one brief nod.
Twenty minutes later, they entered the underground garage of Vale National Bank through a private service entrance. Elias met them beside the elevator.
He carried the second brass key.
The vault required Claire’s fingerprint, Elias’s code, both keys, and the verification phrase.
Claire placed her hand on the scanner.
“Roses beneath glass.”
A green light appeared.
The vault door opened.
Inside waited a single black case and a letter written in her father’s hand.
Claire read the first line.
My dearest Claire, if you are opening this, someone has discovered that the mansion is not your true inheritance.
Beneath the letter lay a photograph.
It showed Henry Vale standing beside another man outside the unfinished mansion.
On the back, Henry had written a name Claire had never heard.
Nathaniel Mercer.
Elias saw it and stepped back.
“That’s impossible.”
“Who is he?”
May you like
Elias’s face had lost all color.
“Derek’s father.”
