Chapter 9 - The Room of Blue Birds
Richard did not show Ethan the entire letter.
He told him that Anna had left instructions connected to the music box.
Ethan turned the box over in his hands.
“The blue birds are on top,” he said.
“Your mother wrote that we should ask about them.”
“There are seven.”
Richard counted.
Seven painted birds curved around the silver moon.
Ethan pressed the first, third and seventh bird.
A narrow key slid from the base.
“I found that once,” he said, “but Mom told me to put it back.”
“What does it open?”
“She said a door that isn’t a door.”
They searched Anna’s study, the shelves and the hidden server compartment.
The key fit nothing.
Nora remembered that Anna had supervised renovations beneath the main staircase shortly after moving into the mansion. She had told Mark the work concerned ventilation.
Richard examined the wooden panels.
One blue bird had been carved into a lower corner, almost invisible beneath the stain.
The key entered a small opening in its center.
Part of the wall released.
A narrow stairway descended beneath the house.
The glass mansion had no basement on its public plans.
Yet below the foundation was a windowless room containing monitors, file cabinets and communication equipment.
The walls had been painted dark blue.
Silver birds decorated the ceiling.
Ethan looked upward.
“Grandma painted birds like those.”
Richard felt an ache beneath his ribs.
Helen had painted the music box and decorated Ethan’s nursery before her illness worsened.
On the central desk lay three sealed envelopes.
One was addressed to Anna.
One to Richard.
One to Ethan, to be opened when he turned eighteen.
Richard opened his.
The letter inside was written by Helen.
Richard,
If you are reading this, then Miriam decided the family could no longer be protected by silence.
You believed Bennett Transit succeeded because we worked harder than everyone else. We did work hard, but some contracts were directed toward us before we submitted bids.
I discovered it too late.
Your father created relationships with officials and contractors who used transportation projects to move money. When he died, those people expected our company to continue serving them.
Victor tried to manage the pressure. Miriam tried to hide the records. I created Bellmere to preserve the truth.
I did not tell you because I believed distance would keep you innocent.
It only kept you unprepared.
The ring is a key as well as a symbol.
Trust Anna.
Trust Miriam only when she tells you the name she refused to write here.
Forgive me.
Helen
Richard lowered the letter.
Sarah, who had entered the room with a warrant team, examined the equipment.
“This system is active,” she said.
A technician confirmed that the room had received encrypted data within the past week.
Someone had been communicating with it.
The file cabinets contained records dating back thirty years. Public construction projects, political donations, transport contracts and transfers through Victor’s companies appeared in carefully indexed folders.
Helen had documented an entire financial network.
Several names belonged to people still holding positions of influence.
One name appeared more frequently than the others but had been replaced by a symbol.
A silver crown.
Miriam’s notes referred to the person only as The Custodian.
Richard searched the drawers for a photograph.
He found the red file.
The same file Miriam had carried into the mansion the night Anna disappeared.
Inside was a list of transactions and a photograph of Helen standing beside a man at a train station.
The photograph had been taken six months after Helen’s funeral.
Richard’s knees weakened.
Helen looked older and thinner, but it was unmistakably her face.
On the back, Miriam had written:
Not Helen. The sister Richard was never told about.
Richard stared at the words.
Helen had never mentioned a sister.
Sarah examined the photograph.
“Could this woman be the one wearing Anna’s coat?”
“The face is similar enough.”
“Could she be the person who used Helen’s ring?”
Richard looked toward the silver bird painted above the desk.
“Yes.”
A monitor suddenly illuminated.
The room’s speakers produced a soft tone.
An incoming encrypted call appeared on the screen.
The sender identification consisted of two letters.
A.B.
Anna Bennett.
Sarah instructed everyone to remain quiet.
The technician accepted the connection.
The screen stayed black.
Then Anna’s voice entered the room.
“Dad?”
Richard moved toward the microphone.
“Anna.”
He had imagined speaking her name again so many times that the real sound felt unfamiliar.
“Are you safe?” he asked.
“For now.”
“Where are you?”
“I cannot tell you.”
“Come home. Mark and Claudia have been convicted. Ethan is safe.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you still hiding?”
“Because their trial forced the real network to move.”
Richard looked toward Sarah.
“Who are you hiding from?”
Anna did not answer immediately.
“Did you find Mom’s letter?”
“Yes.”
“And the photograph?”
“Yes. Who is the woman?”
“She calls herself Evelyn.”
“Helen’s sister?”
“Her twin.”
Richard gripped the desk.
“Why did your mother never tell me?”
“Because Evelyn worked for the people Helen was trying to expose.”
“Is she the Custodian?”
“No.”
“Then who is?”
A sound interrupted the connection.
Anna whispered to someone nearby.
When she spoke again, her voice had changed.
“I have to go.”
“Anna, wait.”
“Listen carefully. Miriam did not betray us. She helped me disappear after Evelyn warned us that Mark’s fraud had exposed the Bellmere records.”
“Where is Miriam?”
“With me.”
“Let me speak to her.”
“You cannot.”
“Why?”
Another pause.
“Because she was injured getting me out.”
Richard closed his eyes.
“Is she alive?”
“Yes, but someone has located us.”
Sarah leaned toward the microphone.
“Anna, this is Officer Vale. Send any location marker you can. We can protect you.”
“No. Your department has a compromised channel.”
Sarah became still.
“Who?”
“I do not know. We discovered only the access code.”
“Give it to me.”
Anna recited a sequence.
Sarah wrote it down.
The technician’s face changed as he searched the system.
“What is it?” Richard asked.
“It is a law-enforcement credential.”
“Whose?”
The technician looked at Sarah.
“It belongs to someone assigned to this case.”
The connection broke.
The screen went dark.
Sarah checked her phone.
One of the investigators who had worked with them since Anna disappeared had accessed the Bellmere evidence files less than an hour earlier.
He had also deleted a vehicle alert connected to Miriam.
Sarah issued an immediate search order.
Before anyone could leave the blue room, the mansion’s security system chimed.
A vehicle had stopped outside the gate.
The camera showed a black government sedan.
The driver lowered his window and displayed identification.
Richard recognized him.
He had attended every major search meeting after Anna disappeared.
May you like
Detective Paul Mercer.
The same investigator whose credential had accessed the Bellmere files.
