Chapter 7 - The Brother in the GardenArthur Webb did not exist.
Cooks.
Drivers.
Security guards.
Gardeners.
Assistants.
Cleaning staff.
Maintenance technicians.
Daniel had known many for years.
Now Detective Brooks told him one might be working for Victor.
Charles Bennett was taken into federal custody.
For the first time, he began cooperating.
His story did not excuse him.
He admitted helping move money.
He admitted falsifying contracts.
He admitted covering up Victor’s involvement.
But he insisted the breakfast drugging had been forced.
“Victor contacted Victoria four months ago,” Charles explained during a recorded interview.
“He told her he had documents that could send her to prison for financial crimes.”
Daniel watched from behind one-way glass.
Brooks sat across from Bennett.
“What did he want?”
“Control of Harrington Holdings.”
“Why?”
“Daniel stopped the Brighton merger.”
Bennett explained that the buyer behind Brighton was secretly connected to Victor through offshore entities.
If the merger succeeded, Victor would effectively regain control of part of the family company.
Daniel had blocked it without knowing the real reason anyone wanted it.
“So Victor threatened my mother into helping remove me from the board vote,” Daniel said afterward.
Brooks nodded.
“That’s Bennett’s version.”
“He still drugged me.”
“He says Victoria used what she believed was a mild sedative.”
“And the dosage?”
“Bennett claims someone switched bottles.”
Daniel’s expression changed.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning whoever Victor has inside the house may have intended to kill you.”
Daniel thought about Maria.
She had interrupted breakfast.
Without her, he might have drunk it.
“Who?”
“We’re checking.”
Every staff member was interviewed.
Phone records were subpoenaed.
Bank activity examined.
By late afternoon, investigators found something unusual.
Daniel’s head of security, Nathan Cole, had received repeated payments from a consulting company in Delaware.
The company traced to a Caribbean holding firm.
The holding firm traced to Victor.
Daniel stared at Brooks.
“Nathan has worked for me nine years.”
“I know.”
“He protected me after kidnapping threats.”
Brooks raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe he knew where those threats came from.”
Nathan disappeared before police could question him.
His apartment was empty.
His estate-issued phone was found beneath a highway overpass.
But he made one mistake.
He had accessed the security system remotely that morning.
Investigators traced the connection to a motel outside Albany.
Police raided the room.
Nathan was gone.
On the desk, they found photographs of Daniel.
Maria.
Victoria.
Sofia.
And Marcus Reed.
Several had red circles drawn around their faces.
Sofia’s photograph had an address written beneath it.
Daniel immediately called Maria.
No answer.
He called Sofia.
Nothing.
His stomach dropped.
The security team at their safe apartment was contacted.
The front door was open.
One guard was unconscious.
Maria and Sofia were gone.
Daniel nearly lost control.
Brooks grabbed his arm.
“We’ll find them.”
“This happened because of me.”
“It happened because someone took them. Focus on the person responsible.”
Twenty minutes later, Daniel received a text from an unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Maria and Sofia sat inside a dark room, wrists tied.
Then came a message.
BRING THE W-17 FILES.
ALONE.
MIDNIGHT.
Daniel immediately showed Brooks.
She shook her head.
“You are not going alone.”
“They’ll kill them.”
“And they may kill them if you obey.”
Daniel stared at the image.
Maria had risked everything to save him.
He could not abandon her.
Brooks studied the photograph.
“There may be clues.”
Investigators enlarged the background.
Concrete wall.
Industrial electrical box.
A partially visible red logo.
Sofia’s shoe reflected light from something metallic on the floor.
A railroad track.
Brooks contacted state police.
Within thirty minutes, they identified several abandoned industrial sites near rail lines with matching electrical equipment.
But there were too many.
Then Maria sent another message.
Not from her phone.
From an old housekeeping scheduling app linked to the estate.
Three words:
BLUE CLOCK. 12:17.
Daniel understood.
Years earlier, Maria had once told him about an old train station where Sofia used to wait after school. Above the entrance hung a large blue clock that had stopped at 12:17.
Brooks searched.
North Cambridge freight terminal.
Abandoned for twelve years.
Police teams surrounded it.
Daniel insisted on going.
“No.”
“Maria left that clue for me.”
“She left it for anyone smart enough to understand.”
“She saved my life.”
Brooks stared at him.
Finally, she agreed to let him accompany the tactical team but remain behind cover.
At 11:26 p.m., officers entered the warehouse.
Shots were fired.
One suspect was arrested.
Another escaped.
Maria and Sofia were found locked inside an office.
Alive.
Daniel reached them minutes later.
Maria started crying when she saw him.
“I’m sorry.”
He hugged her.
“No more apologies.”
Sofia was shaking.
“They kept asking about Room 17.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Did they say who sent them?”
She nodded.
“One man called someone on speaker.”
“What name?”
“He said, ‘Mr. Harrington.’”
Daniel’s stomach tightened.
Victor.
But Sofia shook her head.
“No. He said another name first.”
Daniel waited.
“Alexander.”
Daniel froze.
There had never been an Alexander Harrington in the family.
At least not one he knew.
Maria looked at him.
“Mr. Daniel, they said Alexander Harrington has been waiting thirty years for the company.”
Daniel stared at Brooks.
That night, genealogical and financial investigators uncovered a sealed court record from 1979.
Richard and Victor Harrington had another brother.
An older half brother.
Alexander Vale.
Born before their father married.
Never publicly acknowledged.
And according to the sealed record, Alexander had once sued the Harrington family for his share of the fortune.
He lost.
Then disappeared.
Brooks looked at Daniel.
“Victor may not be the person at the top.”
Daniel stared at the old court photograph.
Alexander Vale looked remarkably like Richard.
Only colder.
Brooks placed another photograph beside it.
A recent passport image.
Daniel stopped breathing.
He knew the man.
Alexander Vale had been inside the Harrington estate dozens of times.
Only he used another name.
Arthur Webb.
The family’s quiet, trusted groundskeeper.
The man who had worked outside Daniel’s windows for eleven years.
May you like
The enemy had not merely been inside the house.
He had been watching the family every day.
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