Chapter 7 - The Boston Vault
At 8:30 a.m., the snowstorm faded into a brilliant, brittle winter blue over the city of Boston.
The old Land Rover, steam rising from its rusted radiator grid and its dark green paint caked in dried mud and salt, rolled slowly down State Street, stopping in front of a heavy granite building with gold-leaf lettering over the entrance:
THE MASSACHUSETTS FIDUCIARY TRUST COMPANY — EST. 1888
Ethan stepped out of the vehicle, opening the passenger door for Claire.
She was wearing Ethan’s spare flight jacket, the oversized cuffs turned back twice, and a pair of emergency leather boots from his helicopter kit. As her feet touched the clean, dry granite steps of the bank, she paused, looking up at the glass skyscrapers reflecting the morning sun.
"It looks... taller," she whispered, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of modern cars, digital billboards, and people walking by with silver coffee cups. "In my books... the cars had round fenders."
"It's twenty-six years later, Claire," Ethan said gently, offering his arm. "The world kept moving. Now it's time to take your place back in it."
They walked into the grand marble lobby. The air was warm, smelling of brass polish and expensive paper.
Ethan walked directly to the high oak counter, where a senior trust officer in a charcoal suit stood behind a brass grille.
"May I help you, sir?" the officer asked, looking with mild disdain at Ethan’s salt-stained coat and Claire’s disheveled appearance.
"We need to see Mr. Harold Vance," Ethan said, placing his Lloyd’s of London investigator badge on the marble counter. "It's regarding the Bennett Family Settlement of 2004."
The officer’s expression changed instantly. He looked from the badge to Claire’s face, his eyes dropping to the high cheekbones and hazel eyes that matched the portrait hanging in the private board room on the third floor.
"Mr. Vance is currently in a trustee meeting," the officer said, his voice dropping into a whisper. "With Mrs. Vivian Ashford."
Claire’s hand tightened on Ethan’s coat sleeve. "She’s here?"
"They file the annual trust disbursement papers every year on December 19th," Ethan realized, looking at the brass clock on the wall. "Today is the twenty-fifth anniversary of Elizabeth Bennett’s death. Today is the day the final assets were scheduled to transfer permanently to Vivian’s management."
Ethan looked at Claire. "Are you ready?"
May you like
Claire pulled Ethan’s flight jacket tightly around her shoulders, her chin rising, her spine straightening into a line of unbreakable steel.
"I've waited twenty years for this meeting, Ethan," she said. "Lead the way."
