Chapter 5 - BENEATH THE CONSERVATORY
The basement beneath the glass conservatory was cold, damp, and smelled of old earth and wet stone.
Ethan walked down the narrow spiral staircase, carrying a flashlight. Behind him came Arthur Vance, leaning heavily on a wooden cane, followed by Briggs, who held a loaded sidearm at his waist.
At the bottom of the stairs lay a heavy reinforced steel door set into the original brick foundation of the 19th-century estate. In the center of the steel plate was a simple brass keyhole.
Ethan stepped forward, inserted the brass key Nora had given him, and turned it.
A heavy mechanical click echoed through the underground corridor.
Ethan pushed the door open.
Inside was a small, climate-controlled room filled with filing cabinets, silver film canisters, and a single wooden desk holding a vintage cassette recorder.
On top of the desk lay an unsealed manila envelope addressed to: Ethan.
Ethan walked over and picked up the envelope. Inside was a handwritten letter from his grandfather, Marcus Harrington, along with a cassette tape marked July 14th—Final Recording.
Arthur Vance stepped into the room, leaning on his cane as he watched Ethan. "He wanted you to hear it in his own voice, Ethan. He knew Julian was tapping the house phones."
Ethan picked up the cassette, inserted it into the old player on the desk, and pressed Play.
The machine hissed with static for a few seconds before a familiar, rasping voice filled the small stone room.
"Ethan," his grandfather's voice spoke from the speaker. "If you are listening to this, it means Arthur has come back, and Julian has made his move to take the company."
Ethan closed his eyes for a second, listening to the voice of the man who had raised him.
"Julian thinks I left him out of the will because I favored you," Marcus's recorded voice continued. "He is wrong. I left him out because I discovered what happened to your mother."
Ethan opened his eyes instantly. He stared at the tape player as if it had suddenly come alive.
"My mother died in a car accident in Paris," Ethan said aloud, his chest tightening.
"Your mother didn't die in an accident, Ethan," the tape continued, the old man's voice cracking with emotional weight. "Julian tampered with the brake lines on her car in France thirty years ago to secure his control over the European logistics line. I found the forensic reports two weeks before I fell ill. I couldn't prove it in court without destroying the family, so I hid the evidence here."
Ethan turned slowly to Arthur Vance. "Is this true?"
Vance nodded grimly. "The police report from Paris is in that red folder on the bottom shelf, Ethan. Your uncle murdered your mother."
Suddenly, the heavy steel door of the vault slammed shut with a deafening bang.
The mechanical lock engaged from the outside.
May you like
Over the vault's small brass intercom speaker on the wall, Julian's voice crackled through with cold, mocking delight.
"You always were too sentimental, Ethan. Just like your father."
