Chapter 4 - the room behind room 27
Isabella did not go home.
She drove to her office in Manhattan.
Before meeting Vincent, she had spent ten years as a forensic accountant specializing in corporate fraud.
Adrian knew that.
Perhaps that was why the scheme had been designed so carefully.
If Isabella discovered the truth, nobody would believe she had stumbled onto it accidentally.
She would look like the architect trying to cover her tracks.
She opened her laptop and searched every Delaware entity connected to the transfer.
The receiving company was called Northstar Asset Consulting.
It had been formed eight months earlier.
Its registered agent led to a law office.
The law office represented dozens of shell companies.
A dead end.
Isabella searched ownership filings, tax records, property transfers, court documents.
Nothing.
Then she examined the timestamp.
11:47 p.m.
The transfer authentication had supposedly been approved through her phone.
But her phone stored biometric security logs.
She checked them.
At 11:47 the previous night, the phone had not been unlocked.
Not by face.
Not by passcode.
Not by fingerprint.
The bank authentication was false.
She called Vincent.
He answered after two rings.
"Where are you?"
"My office."
"You said you were going home."
"I changed my mind."
"Isabella."
"Listen. The transfer record was forged."
Silence.
"I have device logs proving my phone never authenticated the transaction."
"Send them."
"I will. But there's more."
She told him about Mia's note.
Vincent's tone changed.
"What note?"
"She gave me a warning before I left."
"Why didn't she tell me?"
"Ask yourself."
He understood.
Because of Adrian.
Vincent turned toward the windows of his study.
Adrian stood outside on the lawn speaking to a security contractor.
Vincent lowered his voice.
"What exactly did Mia write?"
"27. West cellar. He isn't alone."
Vincent frowned.
"There is no room twenty-seven."
"Are you sure?"
"I grew up here."
"That doesn't mean you know everything your family built."
He almost argued.
Then remembered his father.
Carlo Moretti had believed secrets were a kind of currency.
"Send me a photograph of the note."
"I already did."
Vincent checked.
It was there.
He stared at the handwriting.
Then he called the head of household maintenance.
"Thomas, how are rooms numbered on original estate plans?"
The older man hesitated.
"The current ones?"
"Original."
"Basement service spaces used numbers. Most were removed during the 1998 renovation."
"What was twenty-seven?"
Silence.
"I don't remember."
"Find out."
"Mr. Moretti, some of those plans were archived."
"Find them."
Vincent ended the call.
Adrian entered moments later.
"You wanted me?"
Vincent placed his phone face down.
"Where is Mia?"
Adrian shrugged.
"Working."
"Where?"
"I don't track every employee personally."
"You track everyone."
Adrian smiled slightly.
"Usually you appreciate that."
Vincent studied him.
"Is Lily still here?"
"I assume so."
"You assume?"
Something colder entered Adrian's face.
"What's this about?"
Vincent leaned back.
"Nothing."
Adrian watched him.
They had known each other too long.
He could detect the lie.
So could Vincent.
After Adrian left, Vincent opened the security system.
He searched for Mia.
The cameras showed her entering the west corridor at 10:16 that morning.
No footage showed her leaving.
Vincent rewound.
Lily appeared with her.
Adrian appeared later.
Then the west corridor camera went dark.
Vincent stared at the timestamp.
10:21.
He called Mia.
No answer.
He called the kitchen.
A cook answered.
"Have you seen Mia?"
"Not since this morning, sir."
"Lily?"
"No."
Vincent stood.
At the same moment Isabella called again.
"I found Northstar."
"What?"
"The shell company."
"Who owns it?"
"Not directly. But Northstar paid another company two hundred thousand dollars last month."
"Which company?"
"A private security consultancy."
Vincent already knew what she was going to say.
"Cole Strategic Services."
Adrian's company.
The business he claimed had been inactive for years.
Vincent looked toward the west corridor.
Then his phone vibrated.
A message from Adrian.
Mia went home sick. Lily is with her.
Vincent stared at it.
He had not asked Adrian where Mia was.
Not in writing.
Adrian had volunteered the explanation.
Vincent called Isabella.
"Come back."
"You believe me?"
"I believe we have a bigger problem."
He walked toward the corridor.
At the end stood the old cellar door.
Unlocked.
Vincent opened it.
Dark stairs descended beneath the mansion.
Nothing appeared unusual.
He went down.
The original cellar contained wine racks, old furniture, and storage crates.
He searched the walls.
No room 27.
Then his phone rang.
Thomas from maintenance.
"I found the 1926 plan."
"And?"
"There was a service room twenty-seven."
Vincent looked around.
"Where?"
Thomas described the original foundation.
Vincent turned slowly toward a wall hidden behind stacked wine crates.
There should have been a doorway.
Instead there was stone.
Recently repointed stone.
Vincent stepped closer.
Fresh mortar.
Someone had sealed the entrance.
He touched it.
From behind the wall came the faintest sound.
May you like
Three knocks.
Then silence.
