Chapter 5 - THE SECRET BENEATH THE MANSIONDeclan watched the footage three times.
Arthur entered the underground archive at 2:13 a.m. He remained inside for eleven minutes, then emerged carrying a leather case.
At 2:31 a.m., the entire security system recorded a temporary power interruption.
By the time the cameras came back online, Arthur had disappeared.
Declan called him.
No answer.
He called again.
Voicemail.
For the first time in twenty years, Arthur was avoiding him.
“Lock down the estate,” Declan ordered his security chief. “Nobody leaves without clearance. Nobody enters without my authorization.”
“And the guests?”
“Send them home.”
“Five hundred people?”
“Especially the five hundred people.”
Within an hour, the mansion was empty except for essential staff and security personnel.
Clary watched the departing cars from an upstairs window.
“You've just made enemies of half the East Coast.”
“They were already enemies. They simply wore better suits.”
She almost smiled.
Then she turned serious.
“Why would Arthur betray you?”
Declan looked at the dark garden.
“Power changes people.”
“Did it change him?”
“I don't know anymore.”
He led her and Tommy toward a concealed staircase behind the library. The steps descended into the mansion's foundation, where the air smelled of stone and dust.
At the bottom stood a steel door with a biometric lock.
Beyond it lay the archive.
Rows of cabinets contained financial records, correspondence, photographs, and sealed documents belonging to the previous generation of Knox leadership.
Declan opened a drawer marked with his father's initials.
Inside lay a photograph of three men standing outside a waterfront warehouse.
His father.
Arthur.
And a third man Declan had never seen before.
Clary leaned closer.
“Who's that?”
“Someone my father never mentioned.”
On the back of the photograph was a handwritten date and a single sentence.
THE NIGHT EVERYTHING WAS SOLD.
Tommy noticed a small envelope tucked beneath the photograph.
Declan opened it.
Inside was a letter written in his father's handwriting.
If you are reading this, someone has opened the archive. Trust no one who claims they saved you. The truth about my death is not where you expect to find it.
The letter ended abruptly.
No signature.
No explanation.
Clary noticed a second sheet hidden inside the envelope.
It contained a list of names.
Some belonged to old business partners. Others belonged to judges, accountants, and political figures.
One name had been circled in red ink.
ELIAS MERCER.
Declan stared at it.
“Mercer was working for my father?”
Tommy shook his head.
“Mercer told me he was working for the man who killed him.”
“Who?”
“He never said.”
Clary examined the photograph again.
“Wait.”
She pointed toward the third man.
“There's something around his wrist.”
Declan took the picture.
A silver bracelet with a distinctive engraved symbol.
He recognized it immediately.
The same symbol appeared on a ring worn by the family attorney, Victor Sloane.
Victor had represented the Knox family for nearly thirty years. He had handled the estate after Declan's father's death and drafted the legal documents that transferred control of the organization to Declan.
“Victor Sloane,” Declan said.
Tommy looked alarmed.
“The lawyer?”
“Yes.”
Clary studied Declan's face.
“You think he helped kill your father?”
“I think someone has spent twenty years making sure I never asked the question.”
A metallic click echoed behind them.
They turned.
The archive door had begun to close.
Declan rushed toward it, but the locking mechanism engaged before he reached the threshold.
A red light blinked above the door.
Then a voice came through the security speaker.
Arthur's voice.
“You always were too curious for your own good, Declan.”
Declan struck the door with his palm.
“Open it!”
“I'm afraid I can't.”
“Arthur, whatever you think you're doing, you can still walk away.”
A short laugh echoed through the speaker.
“Walk away? After twenty years of cleaning up your father's mistakes?”
Clary grabbed Declan's arm.
“There's another way out.”
Declan looked at her.
“How do you know?”
She pointed toward the floor.
A thin line of light shone beneath a cabinet at the far end of the archive.
Behind it was a narrow passage.
They moved the cabinet and discovered an old maintenance tunnel leading toward the mansion's boiler room.
Before leaving, Declan took the photograph and his father's letter.
Then the speaker crackled again.
Arthur's voice returned, colder than before.
“One more thing, Declan. If you want to know who killed your father, ask the woman who has been working in your house for twenty years.”
Declan froze.
Clary whispered, “What woman?”
May you like
The speaker went silent.
And somewhere above them, a door slammed shut.
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