Chapter 11 - The Ledger in the Walls
We returned to Blackmere House under heavy security.
Lydia traveled in a separate vehicle, escorted by two guards. She refused to enter the mansion through the front doors.
"I haven't been inside since the night I left," she explained.
Roman ordered the east wing secured and arranged for a private physician to examine her.
I found her later in the archive room, staring at the shelves.
"Where did you hide it?" I asked.
She pointed toward an old cabinet.
"Richard kept the original plans for the estate here. I found a loose panel behind the bottom drawer."
Dominic examined the cabinet.
The panel had been sealed with fresh wood and paint.
Someone had already discovered the hiding place.
Or wanted us to believe they had.
Roman ordered the cabinet moved away from the wall. Behind it, we found a narrow recess containing an empty metal box.
Lydia's face crumpled.
"It was here."
Roman inspected the recess.
"How long ago did you last see the ledger?"
"Three years."
"Then someone has had three years to take it."
A faint sound came from the corridor.
Dominic turned toward the door.
"Stay here."
He left with two guards.
Roman and I remained beside the empty box.
"Do you think Julian has it?" I asked.
"I think Julian knows more than he's admitted."
"And if he has the ledger?"
"Then he has something he believes can protect him."
I studied the empty recess.
"Or something he wants to use against you."
Roman looked at me.
"You're learning quickly."
"I've had a terrible teacher."
For a moment, his expression softened.
Then a guard appeared in the doorway.
"Mr. Blackmere, we found something in the old servants' quarters."
He handed Roman a small envelope.
Inside was a photograph of Lydia standing beside Richard Blackmere.
They were outside the warehouse, the day before the fire.
On the back, someone had written a name.
Julian.
Lydia took one look and began to shake.
"He was there."
Roman studied the photograph.
"Why would my cousin be at the warehouse?"
"Because he was the third partner," I whispered.
Lydia shook her head.
"No. He was too young to control those accounts. Someone else used his signature."
"Who?" Roman asked.
Lydia's voice fell to a whisper.
"Your father's attorney. Malcolm Reed."
Roman's expression changed.
Malcolm Reed had represented the Blackmere family for more than twenty years. He had handled wills, corporate restructurings, property transfers, and every legal matter connected to Richard's estate.
He had also attended Richard's funeral.
He had embraced Roman in front of the cameras and promised to protect the family.
Roman immediately called him.
No answer.
Dominic traced Malcolm's vehicle to a private garage downtown.
The car was still there.
Malcolm was not.
Then the security system reported that someone had entered Eleanor's private wing.
Roman ran upstairs.
I followed.
Eleanor was unharmed, but her desk had been opened and several documents were missing.
She stood beside the window, pale and furious.
"He came for the letters," she said.
Roman stopped.
"What letters?"
Eleanor looked at her son.
May you like
"The ones your father wrote the night before he died."
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