Chapter 3 - THE ROOM HER FATHER SEALED
The presidential office occupied the thirty-ninth floor.
It had belonged to William Vale.
After his death, Charlotte had ordered it preserved until she decided what to do with his papers.
Nathan had apparently decided otherwise.
When the elevator doors opened, construction plastic covered the corridor.
The usual paintings were gone.
Furniture had been removed.
A sign read RENOVATION IN PROGRESS.
Charlotte stopped.
“When did this begin?”
Nathan walked beside her.
“Six weeks ago.”
“Authorized by whom?”
“The operating committee.”
“I chair the operating committee.”
Nathan said nothing.
Charlotte turned.
“Who signed the approval?”
“We had water damage.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Nathan glanced at the security guard accompanying them.
“Could we discuss this privately?”
Charlotte smiled.
“No.”
They reached the double doors.
A contractor stood outside.
Nathan spoke sharply.
“Open it.”
The man looked uncomfortable.
“I don’t have the code.”
Charlotte removed the brass key from her pocket.
The contractor stared.
Nathan did too.
Charlotte inserted it into an old-fashioned lock beside the digital keypad.
The key turned.
The door opened.
Nathan whispered something under his breath.
Charlotte stepped inside.
The office had been stripped.
Her father’s mahogany desk was gone.
Bookshelves empty.
Carpet removed.
Even the wall panels had been taken apart.
Charlotte felt a surprising wave of grief.
She remembered sitting behind that desk as a child while her father pretended she was the hotel manager.
She remembered signing fake invoices with purple crayons.
Now the room looked violated.
“Who removed the furniture?”
Nathan said, “Storage.”
“Where?”
“Off-site.”
Charlotte looked at him.
“Which facility?”
“I’ll get you the address.”
“You don’t know?”
“I manage a hotel with eight hundred employees.”
“You manage the most important property in my family’s company. My father’s personal office was dismantled and you don’t know where his desk went?”
Nathan’s composure cracked.
“Your father is dead, Charlotte.”
Silence.
The guard looked away.
Charlotte walked toward Nathan.
“Yes.”
Her voice stayed calm.
“And you seem strangely comfortable using that fact.”
Nathan stared at her.
Then exhaled.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
Charlotte turned toward the windows.
Below them, Manhattan stretched to the horizon.
Something about the wall caught her eye.
A rectangular section near the corner had been painted more recently.
She walked closer.
“What was here?”
Nathan answered too quickly.
“Nothing.”
Charlotte touched the wall.
“Derek.”
The security guard approached.
“Yes, Ms. Vale?”
“Get maintenance.”
Nathan stepped forward.
“That wall contains plumbing.”
Charlotte looked at him.
“In an interior wall?”
Nathan stopped.
Charlotte smiled.
“Call maintenance.”
Twenty minutes later, a hotel engineer removed part of the drywall.
Behind it was a steel safe.
Nathan stared.
Charlotte looked at him.
“You said nothing was here.”
“I didn’t know about that.”
“Of course.”
The safe had no visible keypad.
Only a keyhole.
Charlotte tried the brass key.
It fit.
Inside were three objects.
A ledger.
A flash drive.
A white envelope with Charlotte’s name written in her father’s handwriting.
Her hands shook when she touched it.
Nathan stepped closer.
“Charlotte, maybe we should wait for legal.”
Charlotte looked at him.
“You seemed less interested in legal when my office was being demolished.”
She opened the envelope.
Inside was a single page.
Charlotte,
If you are reading this, I failed to resolve something before I died.
Do not assume that everyone who protected you as a child still intends to protect you as an adult.
The Solmere is being used to hide payments, identities, and meetings that do not belong in hotel records.
I discovered the first layer by accident.
Nathan knows more than he has told me.
The Sterlings are involved, but I do not believe they are in control.
There is a private record room in the hotel that does not appear on any floor plan.
The brass key opens the first door.
You will need someone named Mara Quinn to open the second.
Trust no board member until you understand what Room 417 really is.
I am sorry.
Dad.
Charlotte read the final line twice.
Room 417.
Nathan shifted behind her.
Charlotte folded the letter.
“What is Room 417?”
Nathan said nothing.
Charlotte turned.
His face had gone pale.
“You know.”
Nathan’s voice dropped.
“That room was closed years ago.”
“My father said otherwise.”
“He was sick at the end.”
Charlotte stepped closer.
“Be very careful.”
Nathan swallowed.
“I only meant that he was under tremendous stress.”
“What happened in Room 417?”
“Nothing.”
Charlotte held up the ledger.
“Then you won’t mind if I investigate.”
Nathan glanced toward the open office door.
Then back at Charlotte.
“You need to leave this alone.”
“Why?”
“You have no idea what you’re walking into.”
“Tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
Nathan looked genuinely frightened now.
That mattered.
Nathan Cole was not afraid of Charlotte.
He was afraid of someone else.
Charlotte placed the flash drive in her pocket.
“Who is Mara Quinn?”
Nathan shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Charlotte studied him.
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Charlotte Vale?”
A woman’s voice.
“Yes.”
“My name is Mara Quinn.”
Charlotte looked directly at Nathan.
Nathan stopped breathing.
Mara continued.
“If Nathan Cole is standing near you, do not react.”
Charlotte’s eyes stayed on him.
She said casually:
“Go ahead.”
May you like
Mara whispered:
“Your father was murdered.”
