Chapter 6 - The Woman at the Airfield
Reyes followed the tracker while Clara remained at the mansion.
At 1:12 in the morning, a message appeared on Clara’s secure device.
Arthur entered Hangar 6. One unidentified woman present.
Clara watched the blinking cursor.
Can you identify her?
Not yet.
Clara moved into the dark hallway outside Arthur and Beatrice’s suite. Beatrice was inside, pacing while speaking on the phone.
“You said he wouldn’t meet her without me,” Beatrice whispered.
A pause followed.
“No, Julian cannot control Marianne. That is the problem.”
Clara moved closer to the door.
Beatrice continued.
“If Helena’s daughter activates the final clause, everything opens. The accounts. The testimony. All of it.”
Clara covered the microphone of her secure phone and activated the recorder.
“We should have told Julian the truth before he married her,” Beatrice said. “Now he thinks this is only about money.”
Another pause.
“What do you mean Marianne wants the child?”
Clara stopped breathing.
Beatrice’s voice became sharper.
“No. She cannot take the baby. That was never part of our agreement.”
Footsteps approached from inside the room.
Clara moved behind a decorative column just as Beatrice opened the door. She crossed the hallway and entered Arthur’s study.
Clara waited several seconds, then returned to her own room.
Reyes called at 2:03.
“The woman left before we could get a clear image,” she said. “But Arthur handed her a case.”
“What kind of case?”
“Silver, reinforced, approximately twenty inches wide.”
“Could it contain documents?”
“Or encrypted drives.”
Clara looked at the old photograph of Helena on her screen.
“Beatrice said Marianne wants my child.”
Reyes became silent.
“Then we pull you out now.”
“No.”
“This is no longer only financial.”
“It was never only financial.”
“You do not get extra points for being right.”
“Can you trace the plane?”
“There was no plane. The hangar appears to be a meeting point.”
“Who owns it?”
“A holding company registered in Luxembourg. We’re tracing it.”
Clara heard movement outside the bedroom.
“I have to go.”
She disconnected before Julian entered.
He wore his suit from the previous evening, though his tie was missing.
“Where have you been?” Clara asked.
“The office.”
“At two in the morning?”
“Problems in Singapore.”
Clara looked toward the window.
“Your father had problems at the airfield.”
Julian’s expression became blank.
“What airfield?”
“The tracker inside his briefcase stopped reporting near one.”
Julian stared at her.
Clara allowed three seconds to pass.
Then she laughed softly.
“I’m joking.”
His face did not recover quickly enough.
“You should see yourself,” she said. “For a moment, you looked genuinely frightened.”
Julian approached the bed.
“Why would you make a joke like that?”
“Pregnancy has made me confused, remember?”
He looked down at her.
The performance between them had changed. Both understood that something was wrong, but neither knew how much the other had discovered.
Julian sat on the edge of the bed.
“After the baby shower, we should go away.”
“Where?”
“Switzerland.”
“I can’t fly this late in pregnancy.”
“We’ll arrange medical clearance.”
“I would rather stay near Dr. Patel.”
Julian placed a hand on her ankle.
“You need to trust me.”
Clara smiled.
“I married you, didn’t I?”
The following morning, Arthur summoned Clara to his office at Vance Holdings.
The top floor overlooked the city. Behind Arthur’s desk stood a wall of photographs showing him with presidents, monarchs, actors, and business leaders.
He dismissed his assistant and locked the door.
“You planted a tracker in my briefcase,” he said.
Clara sat without being invited.
“You found it.”
“Marianne found it.”
“Then she was at the airfield.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
“You have no idea what she is capable of.”
“She wants my child.”
“That is why you must leave.”
“Where?”
“I can arrange a house in Canada.”
“And spend the rest of my life hiding?”
“You would be alive.”
“So would Marianne.”
Arthur moved toward the windows.
“Helena believed she could expose everyone at once. Politicians, bankers, judges, military contractors. She collected records for years.”
“Records of crimes?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you help her?”
Arthur turned.
“Because my name was in them.”
The answer was quiet and complete.
Clara stood.
“You let my mother board that ferry.”
“I did not order the explosion.”
The room seemed to lose all sound.
“Explosion?”
Arthur closed his eyes.
“You were told it sank in a storm.”
“It did not?”
“The official wreckage report was altered.”
“Was my mother on the ferry?”
“I saw her board.”
“Did you see her die?”
“No.”
Clara stepped toward him.
“Who arranged the explosion?”
“Marianne.”
“Why?”
“To control the evidence Helena had collected.”
“Then why are you still working with her?”
Arthur’s face aged in front of her.
“Because she has spent twenty-four years proving that no one ever truly stops working for her.”
He opened a locked drawer and removed a key card.
“This accesses Julian’s private server room beneath the old Vance Foundation building.”
“Why give it to me?”
“Because Julian recorded every agreement he made with Marianne. He believes recordings are insurance.”
“And you want me to destroy them?”
“I want you to find out what he promised her.”
Clara took the card.
Arthur caught her wrist.
“If you see a file labeled Cradle, do not open it.”
“Why?”
“Because Helena created it.”
“You said Julian’s server belongs to him.”
“The building belonged to Helena first.”
Clara pulled her hand away.
“What is Cradle?”
May you like
Arthur looked toward the locked office door.
“A list of children whose identities were changed through the Vance Foundation.”
