Chapter 8 - Locker 409
The underground vault of the Metro Secure Depository was cold, quiet, and smelled of polished steel and old paper. The attendant, an elderly man with thick glasses, unlocked the heavy outer security gate and gestured toward corridor B.
Adrian walked slightly ahead of me, his heavy boots echoing off the concrete floor. When we reached locker 409, he stepped aside, gesturing for me to take the lead.
I inserted the brass key into the old-fashioned mechanical lock. It turned with a satisfying, heavy click. I pulled the steel door open and reached inside.
There was no gold, no stacks of cash, and no jewelry. Just a single, thick leather-bound binder and a heavy wooden box with a brass latch.
I pulled them out, carrying them over to a small examination table under the harsh fluorescent lights. Adrian stood behind me, resting one hand on the back of my chair, his presence a solid, unyielding anchor.
I flipped open the leather binder. The first page was a handwritten letter addressed to me, dated three days before my father's fatal car crash.
<i>'My dearest Victoria,'</i> my father's familiar, elegant handwriting scrolled across the page. <i>'If you are reading this, it means the worst has happened. For months, I have discovered that Celeste and her brother Richard have been systematically siphoning funds from the Halden Group to finance private debts and illegal offshore accounts. When I threatened to cut them out of my will and hand the evidence to the federal prosecutor, Celeste looked at me with a smile I had never seen before—cold, devoid of any humanity. If anything happens to me on the road, do not trust the police report. Look to Victor Shaw.'</i>
A tear slipped down my cheek, splashing onto the paper, blurring the ink. I choked back a sob, my hands trembling as I turned the page.
"Read the wooden box," Adrian whispered softly, his hand resting gently on my shoulder, his thumb stroking my collarbone in a rare gesture of comfort.
I reached for the wooden box and lifted the brass latch. Inside sat a pristine, micro-cassette recorder and a thumb drive labeled <i>'Backup Evidence - Halden embezzlement & vehicle tampering log.'</i>
May you like
I looked up at Adrian, my eyes blazing through my tears. "They didn't just embezzle from him. They sabotaged his car."
"And now," Adrian said quietly, his dark eyes locking onto mine with lethal precision, "we have everything we need to bury them forever. But before we go to the authorities, there's one more stop we have to make. Your uncle Richard is hosting a private gala at his estate tonight. And I think it's time we RSVP."
