Chapter 3 - Whispers in the Grand Gallery
The lights in the grand library flickered as the secondary generator kicked in.
The room smelled of old leather and tension.
Eleanor Vale sat in a high-backed velvet wing chair near the fireplace.
At sixty-two, the matriarch of the Vale family still possessed the bearing of an empress.
Her silver hair was swept up perfectly.
She wore a black cashmere dressing gown that swept the floor.
She had worn black every single day since Julian's reported death.
Across from her stood Harrison Reed.
Roman's foster brother looked disheveled in his white dress shirt and slacks.
His tie was undone.
He held a glass of scotch in his left hand.
Marcus Vance stood guard by the heavy arched doors with his hands clasped behind his back.
Claire Bennett entered behind Roman, carrying a silver tray with coffee service.
Eleanor did not look at Claire.
She looked only at her oldest son.
"Roman, this is an absurdity."
Roman walked to the center of the Persian rug.
"Drink your coffee, Mother."
"You have lowered blast shields over my bedroom windows."
"It is for your safety."
"I am seventy miles from Boston in my own family home," Eleanor snapped.
"An armed man entered through the east terrace thirty minutes ago," Roman said.
Harrison froze with the glass at his lips.
"What did you say?"
"An operative was neutralized in the basement sub-level."
Eleanor set her porcelain cup down with a sharp clatter.
"Neutralized?"
"He is dead," Roman stated flatly.
Harrison stepped forward, his eyes wide.
"Who killed him? Marcus?"
Roman did not look toward Claire.
"The intruder suffered a fatal fall during an altercation with the staff."
Harrison let out a harsh, incredulous breath.
"A thief?"
"He was not a thief."
Roman looked directly at Harrison's face.
"He carried a bypass key for the East Gate."
Harrison went completely pale.
"That cipher is restricted."
"I know."
"There are only a few people who have that clearance," Harrison stammered.
"Six people, Harrison."
"Roman, what are you insinuating?"
"I am not insinuating anything yet."
Eleanor leaned forward in her chair, her rings catching the firelight.
"How did he get the key?"
"He was sent here to deliver a message," Roman said.
The room became so quiet that the rain against the exterior shutters sounded like gravel.
Eleanor's voice dropped.
"A message from whom?"
Roman paused, letting the silence build until it was suffocating.
"Julian."
Eleanor gasped as if she had been struck across the face.
Her hand flew to her throat.
"Don't you dare."
"Mother."
"Do not speak your brother's name in this room!"
Eleanor's voice trembled with sudden, violent grief.
"Julian died three years ago off the coast of Cap Ferrat."
"We found an empty hull," Roman said evenly.
"We found his watch and his DNA in the cabin!"
"We found what someone wanted us to find."
Harrison set his scotch down on a side table.
"Roman, this is madness."
"Is it, Harrison?"
"Julian was reckless, but he was not an operative."
Harrison wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead.
"Someone is using Julian's name to destabilize the company before the board vote."
"What board vote?" Claire spoke softly from the shadow of the sideboard.
Eleanor turned her head sharply toward the maid.
"Who gave you permission to speak?"
Claire bowed her head slightly.
"Forgive me, Mrs. Vale."
"Leave the room at once," Eleanor commanded.
"She stays," Roman said.
Eleanor's eyes flashed with fury.
"You are sheltering staff while your family is being interrogated?"
"Claire discovered the intruder," Roman said.
Harrison stared at Claire with new intensity.
"You saw him?"
"Yes, Mr. Reed," Claire said calmly.
"Did he speak to you?"
"He said the east gate was open."
Harrison took a slow step backward toward the bookshelf.
His hand brushed against his pocket, where the silhouette of a mobile phone showed.
Roman did not miss the gesture.
"Harrison, where were you between one and two this morning?"
Harrison's mouth fell open.
"Are you interrogating me?"
"I am asking a simple question."
"I was in the guest suite reviewing the quarterly logistics filings!"
"Alone?"
"Of course alone!"
"Did you access the security mainframe tonight?"
"No!"
"Then why did your personal IP address log into the gate system at 1:47 A.M.?"
The accusation hit the room like a thunderclap.
Harrison's eyes darted toward Marcus.
Marcus did not move.
"I... I had to verify the transport schedules for tomorrow's delivery," Harrison said.
"The delivery doesn't arrive until Thursday," Roman countered.
Harrison swallowed hard.
"I made a mistake on the dates."
"You don't make mistakes with numbers, Harrison."
Eleanor stood up from her chair, trembling with rage.
"Enough of this fratricide!"
She pointed an accusing finger at Roman.
"You always hated him."
"I protected this family from him," Roman said coldly.
"You pushed him out of the firm."
"He was laundering money for a cartel out of Cyprus, Mother."
"He was your brother!"
"And he was a criminal."
"If Julian were alive," Eleanor whispered, her tears finally falling, "he would have come to me first."
"Unless," Claire's voice cut through the silence once more, "he knew you were being watched."
Every eye in the room turned toward Claire.
Roman watched her carefully.
She was no longer acting like a servant.
Her posture was rigid, analytical, and sharp.
"Claire," Roman said softly.
"Look at the mantelpiece, Mr. Vale," she said.
Roman turned his head toward the stone hearth.
Above the mantle hung a portrait of Julian Vale painted four years ago.
A small red pinpoint of light was blinking from the gilded frame.
May you like
A pinhole surveillance camera had been live the entire time.
The transmission was broadcasting outside the estate.
