Chapter 4 - Grace in the Dark
Isabella waited until Vivian, Marcus, and Dr. Rusk left the room.
Then she crawled through the service passage.
The narrow corridor descended behind the walls and ended near an old laundry room. Dust covered the floor, but one set of recent footprints led toward the basement.
Someone else had been using the passage.
Isabella followed the prints.
The basement contained wine storage, utility systems, and several rooms that had been closed since the mansion’s renovation. At the end of the corridor, she found a steel door secured by a new electronic lock.
A faint light showed beneath it.
Isabella placed her phone against the door and activated a thermal scanning application. It could not produce a clear image through steel, but it detected heat.
Someone was inside.
She knocked softly.
No answer.
She knocked again in the pattern Grace used when entering Isabella’s childhood bedroom.
Two quick knocks, a pause, then one.
A chair scraped against the floor.
“Isabella?” a woman whispered.
“Grace?”
“Oh, thank God.”
Isabella examined the lock. It was connected to the same network as Richard’s bedroom but operated through a separate local controller.
“Step away from the door,” Isabella said.
She removed a narrow tool from the emergency compartment in her suitcase and opened the access panel. After bypassing two wires, the lock released.
Grace Holloway stood inside.
Her wrist was wrapped in a dirty bandage. Her face was tired, and her gray hair had been cut unevenly, but she was alive.
Isabella embraced her.
“I thought they had taken you somewhere else.”
“They were planning to,” Grace said. “Marcus received a call earlier. He said I would be moved before sunrise.”
“Why did they keep you here?”
“They needed to know what I copied.”
“The recordings?”
Grace nodded.
She had discovered Marcus entering Richard’s study at night. At first, she assumed he was working. Then she saw him replacing medication labels and photographing Richard’s legal documents.
Grace hid the small camera from the study and copied its memory.
“Marcus caught me before I could leave,” she said. “Dr. Rusk told the staff I had suffered a breakdown and resigned.”
“Why didn’t they kill you?”
Grace looked toward the door.
“Because they still don’t know where the original memory card is.”
“You gave Edwin a drive.”
“That was only a partial copy.”
“Where is the full recording?”
Grace reached beneath her bandage and removed a tiny memory card sealed in plastic.
“I kept it with me.”
Isabella accepted it carefully.
“We need to get you out.”
“The basement exit is monitored.”
“I can disable the camera.”
“The gate guards report directly to Marcus.”
Isabella opened Bennett’s contact and typed a message.
Grace alive. Held in basement. Sending location. Do not enter yet. We need Marcus to expose his next move.
Grace shook her head.
“You cannot stay here.”
“If the police enter now, Vivian will claim you were receiving private medical care.”
“She locked me in a basement.”
“And she will produce a signed statement saying you agreed to remain here. Marcus has forged stronger evidence than that.”
Grace’s face darkened.
“Then we need his records.”
“What records?”
“Marcus keeps two ledgers. One for the company and one for Vivian.”
“Where?”
“In Richard’s study. Behind the illuminated bar.”
Isabella remembered the bar in the living room. Richard had designed it years earlier. A mirrored wall concealed a private office where he stored sensitive financial material.
“Marcus changed the lock,” Grace continued, “but he still enters every night at two.”
“What does he record?”
“Payments to Dr. Rusk, transfers through foreign accounts, and money given to people on the Mercer board.”
“That ledger could prove conspiracy.”
“It could prove more than that.”
Grace told her that Marcus had not simply helped Vivian seize Richard’s assets. He had been transferring parts of Mercer Global into shell companies for years.
Vivian believed the companies were under her control.
They were actually registered through Marcus’s private network.
“He is stealing from her too,” Isabella said.
“Marcus intends to let Vivian take the blame.”
A distant door opened.
Voices echoed from the staircase.
Marcus was coming.
Isabella led Grace back into the locked room.
“Stay here until I send someone.”
“I have been waiting in the dark for ten days.”
“Then wait one more hour.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Give Marcus something more important to chase.”
Isabella returned through the service passage and reached her bedroom minutes before Marcus knocked.
She placed the silver suitcase on the bed and left it open.
The original trust was visible inside.
Marcus entered without waiting for permission.
“Vivian said you were unwell.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
His eyes moved toward the suitcase.
“Family documents?”
“Old papers from Zurich.”
“May I see them?”
“No.”
His expression remained calm, but the muscles in his jaw tightened.
“Isabella, your father’s legal affairs are complicated. Old documents may create unnecessary confusion.”
“The trust was signed by both my parents.”
“And later replaced.”
“Was it?”
Marcus smiled.
“You have spent too many years investigating criminals. You see conspiracies in ordinary business decisions.”
“And you have spent too many years around my family. You have forgotten you are an employee.”
The smile vanished.
“I am the chief financial officer of Mercer Global.”
“You were an employee when my father hired you. You were an employee when my mother distrusted you. You are still an employee tonight.”
Marcus stepped closer.
“Your mother barely knew me.”
“She knew enough to tell my father never to make you a trustee.”
For the first time, real fear appeared in his eyes.
Isabella had guessed.
Now she knew she was right.
Marcus recovered quickly.
“You should rest.”
He left the room.
Isabella waited ten seconds, then checked the hidden camera she had placed beneath the suitcase handle.
Marcus had stopped outside her door.
He removed his phone and sent a message.
She enlarged the screen.
Prepare the car. We take Isabella and Grace together.
A reply arrived from an unknown contact.
Do not touch Isabella until I arrive.
Marcus typed back.
You are not in control anymore.
The response came immediately.
Open Schedule E of the original trust before you say that again.
Marcus stared at the message.
May you like
Then he looked back toward Isabella’s door.
The person directing him knew about a section of the trust even Richard had never opened.
