Chapter 3 - THE SECRET IN THE EAST WING
Elena parked beneath a row of trees and stared at the photograph through the windshield.
It had been taken almost three years earlier.
She and Graham were walking out of a café near the river. His head was turned toward her, his expression relaxed in a way the public rarely saw.
Elena remembered that morning.
Graham had stolen a piece of toast from her plate. She had threatened to report the theft to his board of directors. He had laughed and kissed her hand on the sidewalk.
Neither of them had noticed a camera.
Margaret, who had insisted on accompanying Elena, reached for the photograph.
“This came from Vivian’s files.”
“How do you know?”
“The red ink. She marks documents she intends to use against people.”
Elena picked up the dark green box.
It was empty.
“Celeste saw Vivian carrying a box like this after Arthur’s funeral.”
“Then Vivian wants us to believe she already removed everything.”
“Or someone else left it here to frighten us.”
Elena turned the photograph over.
A second message appeared on the back.
THE SAFE IS NOT THE ONLY THING ARTHUR HID.
Margaret read it over her shoulder.
“That handwriting isn’t Vivian’s.”
“Daniel?”
“No. Too narrow.”
A light appeared near the service entrance.
Elena placed the photograph inside her coat.
“We should leave.”
Margaret looked toward the mansion.
“If we leave now, we may never know what was inside.”
They moved through the trees until they reached a narrow door concealed behind climbing ivy.
Margaret entered an old staff code.
The lock clicked.
“You said you were dismissed eighteen months ago,” Elena whispered.
“They never change anything in this house unless it threatens them.”
Inside, the service corridor smelled of dust and furniture polish. The mansion was quiet except for the distant hum of the heating system.
Margaret led Elena past the pantry.
At the end of the corridor, they found two sets of muddy footprints.
One set led toward the east wing.
The other returned.
“Contractors,” Margaret murmured.
They climbed a narrow staircase.
At the top, a door opened into a gallery filled with family portraits.
Arthur Hawthorne watched from the nearest frame, his hand resting on the back of a carved chair. Graham stood beside him at twenty-five, already carrying the guarded expression that would later appear on business magazine covers.
Vivian stood on Arthur’s other side.
Even in paint, she looked as if she owned everyone in the room.
The east-study door was open.
Elena stopped.
“They’ve already been here.”
Inside, books had been pulled from shelves. Desk drawers stood open. Papers covered the floor.
Margaret switched on a small lamp.
“The safe is behind the portrait.”
They moved to a painting of the Hawthorne estate in winter. Margaret lifted the frame, revealing a steel panel.
Elena entered the four numbers from Arthur’s memorandum.
The safe clicked open.
It was empty.
Elena shut her eyes.
“We’re too late.”
Margaret examined the interior.
“No.”
“What?”
“There are scratches on the lower edge.”
She pressed against the back panel.
Nothing moved.
Then Elena noticed a small indentation near the upper corner. She pushed it.
The rear panel released.
Inside the hidden compartment was a brass key and a cassette tape sealed inside a plastic bag.
No letter.
Margaret lifted the tape.
“Arthur recorded everything.”
A sound echoed from the hallway.
Footsteps.
Elena switched off the lamp.
Margaret closed the safe.
They moved behind the curtains as someone entered the room.
A man’s silhouette crossed the floor.
He did not turn on the lights.
He went directly to Arthur’s desk and opened the lower drawer.
Elena could hear him breathing.
The man removed something metallic.
Then a phone screen illuminated his face.
Daniel Price.
Elena stepped from behind the curtain.
“What are you doing?”
Daniel spun around.
The object in his hand was a small voice recorder.
“Elena?”
Margaret emerged.
“You told us Vivian sent contractors.”
“She did.”
“Then why are you here?”
“To retrieve this.”
Daniel held up the recorder.
“Arthur used it during private meetings.”
“You knew it was here?”
“I suspected.”
Elena showed him the cassette.
“Is this what Vivian is looking for?”
Daniel’s expression changed.
“Give me that.”
“Why?”
“Because Arthur recorded things that could destroy the company.”
“Or destroy Vivian.”
“It may be the same thing.”
Daniel reached for the tape.
Elena stepped away.
“Where is my letter?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said Arthur put it in the safe.”
“He did.”
“Someone removed it.”
Daniel glanced toward the open door.
“You need to leave immediately.”
“Not without answers.”
“Vivian knows you’re inside the estate.”
Elena’s blood went cold.
“How?”
Daniel held up his phone.
A security alert showed a photograph captured at the service entrance.
Elena and Margaret entering the corridor.
The time stamp was twelve minutes earlier.
“She’s on her way,” he said.
Margaret took the brass key from the hidden compartment.
“What does this open?”
Daniel stared at it.
“I’ve never seen it.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
Headlights swept across the windows.
A vehicle stopped outside the east wing.
Elena placed the cassette inside her handbag.
Daniel caught her arm.
“Listen to me. Graham is landing tomorrow. Wait for him.”
“That was my plan until someone emptied the safe.”
“Arthur may have moved the letter.”
“Where?”
Daniel looked at the brass key.
Then toward the shelves.
“His private archive was not inside this mansion.”
Margaret released a slow breath.
“The garden house.”
Daniel nodded.
Arthur had built a small glass conservatory at the edge of the estate. After his death, Vivian ordered it closed.
“What does the key open?” Elena asked.
“The storage chamber beneath it.”
A car door slammed outside.
Daniel moved toward the hallway.
“I’ll delay her. Take the rear stairs.”
“Why should we trust you?”
“You shouldn’t,” he said. “But you have no other way out.”
Elena and Margaret hurried through a second doorway just as Vivian’s voice echoed through the gallery.
“Search every room.”
They descended the rear staircase and crossed a dark kitchen.
Elena’s phone vibrated.
A message from the babysitter appeared.
Poppy was awake and crying.
Elena’s instinct screamed at her to leave.
Then another message arrived from an unknown number.
A photograph loaded on the screen.
It showed Poppy standing inside the hotel room beside Margaret’s niece.
Elena’s knees nearly failed.
A new message appeared beneath the image.
THE CHILD IS SAFE FOR NOW.
COME TO THE GARDEN HOUSE ALONE.
Margaret read the message.
“They know where Poppy is.”
Elena turned toward the service exit.
“I’m going back to her.”
“If you return to the hotel, whoever sent that message will follow you.”
“I’m not leaving my daughter unprotected.”
“She is protected. My niece’s husband is a police officer.”
“Then how did someone get close enough to take this photograph?”
Margaret looked again.
The image had been taken from outside the hotel window.
Third floor.
“That’s impossible,” she whispered.
Elena enlarged the photograph.
A faint reflection appeared in the glass behind Poppy.
The reflection of a man holding the camera.
Part of his face was visible.
Elena recognized him.
He had been standing beside Graham at the last charity event they attended together.
May you like
Graham’s personal security chief.
Marcus Reed.
