Chapter 5 - The House Where His Father Vanished)
By noon, Daniel was no longer chief executive of his own company.
By one, he was driving north with his mother beside him.
Marcus followed in another car.
The destination was Ashcroft House.
The abandoned property where Thomas Whitmore had made his final phone call.
Daniel had not visited it since childhood.
The estate stood behind iron gates along a wooded section of the Hudson River.
His grandfather had owned it as a summer residence.
Later, Thomas used part of it as an office.
After the disappearance, the property passed through several holding companies before being sold.
Marcus had traced the current owner.
A shell company.
No listed employees.
No physical office.
The shell company was controlled through another corporation registered in Delaware.
And that corporation had once received funding from Blackwell Capital.
Daniel parked outside the locked gate.
"You knew this?" he asked Eleanor.
"No."
Marcus walked toward them carrying bolt cutters.
Daniel looked at him.
Marcus shrugged.
"I'm counsel, not a saint."
They entered.
Ashcroft House was larger than Daniel remembered.
Stone walls.
Broken windows.
Ivy climbing over the western side.
Inside, dust covered the floors.
Most furniture had been removed.
Eleanor stood in the entrance hall and closed her eyes.
"I came here once after he disappeared."
Daniel turned.
"When?"
"The next morning."
"You came alone?"
"Yes."
"What did you find?"
"Nothing."
"Why didn't you tell the police?"
"They had already decided the car accident explained everything."
Marcus looked around.
"Where was Thomas's office?"
Eleanor pointed upstairs.
They climbed.
The office door was gone.
The room beyond had been emptied completely.
Daniel walked to the windows.
Below, the river was visible through trees.
He imagined his father standing there twenty years earlier.
Afraid.
Holding records powerful men wanted destroyed.
Daniel took out the brass key.
"No lock."
Marcus began searching the walls.
Eleanor stood near the fireplace.
Then she touched the stone mantel.
"What?"
She pointed to a faint mark.
Two small letters had been carved into the stone.
T W.
Thomas Whitmore.
Daniel ran his fingers across them.
Below the initials was a narrow slot.
Almost invisible.
Marcus leaned closer.
"That might take a key."
Daniel inserted the brass key.
It fit.
A section of the mantel released with a quiet click.
Behind it was a shallow compartment.
Empty.
Daniel stared.
"Someone got here first."
Marcus examined the dust.
"Maybe."
He pointed to the bottom.
A rectangular outline was visible.
Something had been stored there for years.
Eleanor whispered, "The ledger."
Daniel looked at her.
"You think Dad hid it here?"
"He told me there were copies."
Marcus reached inside.
His fingers touched the rear panel.
"Wait."
He pressed.
Another piece shifted.
A folded paper fell out.
Daniel grabbed it.
The paper was yellow with age.
The handwriting was unmistakably personal.
Eleanor recognized it immediately.
"That's Thomas."
Daniel unfolded the note.
It contained only three lines.
Ellie,
If Richard still has the key, then Charles never found everything.
Do not trust the man who tells Daniel I am dead.
Daniel read the final sentence again.
Then looked at Eleanor.
"Who told me Dad was dead?"
Her face went pale.
"My father in law."
"Grandfather?"
She nodded.
"But he died fifteen years ago."
Marcus took the note carefully.
"Maybe Thomas was referring to someone else."
Eleanor shook her head.
"No. Daniel's grandfather came to our apartment. He told us the police believed Thomas was dead. He arranged the memorial."
Daniel walked away.
His grandfather had been cold.
Controlling.
Impossible to please.
But Daniel had never imagined him involved.
Marcus examined the paper.
"This note may have been written before Thomas vanished."
Eleanor nodded.
"Probably."
"So Thomas suspected someone would fake or misrepresent his death before it happened."
Daniel looked toward the river.
"What was Grandfather protecting?"
No one answered.
Then a sound came from downstairs.
A door closing.
Marcus froze.
"We weren't alone."
Daniel moved toward the hallway.
Marcus grabbed his arm.
"Don't."
Footsteps crossed the entrance hall.
Daniel quietly descended.
He reached the bottom just as someone moved through the rear doorway.
A man.
Dark jacket.
Baseball cap.
Daniel ran.
He burst outside.
The man crossed the overgrown lawn.
Daniel followed.
The stranger reached a black SUV parked near the service road.
Before entering, he turned.
Daniel saw his face for less than two seconds.
Around sixty.
Gray beard.
Scar along the left cheek.
Then he was gone.
The SUV disappeared behind the trees.
Daniel stood breathing hard.
Marcus arrived.
"Did you see him?"
"Yes."
"Recognize him?"
"No."
Eleanor came outside more slowly.
Daniel described the man.
The moment he mentioned the scar, Eleanor stopped.
"What?"
She looked toward the empty road.
"Your father had a friend."
Daniel waited.
"His name was Samuel Mercer."
Marcus asked, "Business partner?"
"No. Security."
"Security for whom?"
"For Thomas."
Daniel stared.
"Why have I never heard that name?"
"Because Samuel disappeared the same week your father did."
Daniel took out his phone.
"Then we find him."
Marcus nodded.
"I'll search records."
Eleanor looked frightened again.
"No."
Daniel turned.
"Why?"
"Because Samuel Mercer was the man who brought me the photograph of you walking home from school."
Silence.
Daniel's grip tightened around his phone.
"He worked for Charles?"
"I never knew."
Daniel looked down the road.
The man who had been inside Ashcroft House might be connected to his father's disappearance.
Or he might have been trying to protect whatever remained hidden there.
Daniel returned to the house.
They searched for another hour.
Inside a damaged desk drawer in a downstairs room, Marcus discovered an old business card.
The name had faded.
The telephone number was disconnected.
But the address remained.
Mercer Investigations.
Queens.
They drove back toward the city.
Halfway there, Marcus received a message from a private investigator.
He opened it.
Then looked at Daniel.
"I found Samuel Mercer."
"Where?"
Marcus hesitated.
"According to public records, Samuel Mercer died eighteen years ago."
Daniel looked straight ahead.
"Then who did we just see?"
Marcus continued.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"Samuel had a younger brother."
Daniel waited.
"His name was Thomas."
Daniel's hands tightened around the steering wheel.
May you like
Marcus added quietly.
"Thomas Mercer is still alive."
