Chapter 6 - THE BROTHER’S HANDWRITING
Marcus denied writing the card.
He stared at the photograph Detective Ellis placed before him and shook his head.
“It looks like mine, but I didn’t do it.”
Adrian stood near the interrogation-room window.
“You were in New York the night Dr. Halpern vanished.”
“So were millions of other people.”
“You knew about the storage unit.”
“I brought you there.”
“Maybe because you knew we would eventually find it.”
Marcus slammed one hand against the table.
“I am not Father.”
“No. Father admitted what he did on tapes. You keep pretending you know nothing.”
Detective Ellis placed three samples of Marcus’s signature beside the card. The slant, spacing, and unusual shape of the letter F appeared nearly identical.
“A handwriting expert will examine it,” she said. “Until then, we need your complete travel history.”
Marcus leaned back.
“Get my attorney.”
Adrian left the room without looking at him.
He wanted to believe his brother.
Marcus had been an irritating child who followed Adrian everywhere, later becoming a competitive adult who treated affection like a weakness. But he had never seemed capable of abducting elderly women or imprisoning Evelyn.
Then again, Adrian had never believed Vivian capable of tying Noah to a bench.
The family had hidden monsters behind manners for generations.
Claire waited in the station hallway.
“What did he say?”
“He denied it.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I don’t know.”
Her husband, Thomas Bennett, had joined her. He was a calm, broad-shouldered high-school principal who seemed determined to protect Claire without deciding what she should feel.
“We need to get the children somewhere safe,” Thomas said.
Adrian agreed. Someone had followed Margaret, moved Evelyn from Blue Haven, and entered Dr. Halpern’s apartment. Claire and her family could be targets.
He offered a secured apartment owned by the company, but Claire refused.
“I will not hide in another Sterling property.”
Adrian understood.
Detective Ellis arranged police protection instead.
At the hospital, Noah was cleared to go home, but Adrian could not take him back to the estate. The hidden room, the garden gate, and Vivian’s presence in every hallway made the mansion unsafe.
They moved temporarily into a hotel suite under another name.
Noah stood by the window overlooking Central Park.
“Are we living here now?”
“For a while.”
“Because Grandma knows where our house is?”
Adrian knelt.
“Grandma cannot come near you.”
“But other people can.”
Noah’s voice was so quiet Adrian almost missed it.
“What other people?”
“The man in Grandpa’s study.”
Adrian went still.
“What man?”
“The night Grandpa gave me the key, there was someone behind the curtain.”
“Did you see his face?”
“No. But he smelled like oranges.”
Adrian remembered that Marcus always carried orange-flavored mints.
“Was it Uncle Marcus?”
Noah shook his head. “He was older.”
“What did Grandpa say to him?”
Noah pressed both hands against the window.
“He said, ‘You were supposed to keep Evelyn quiet, not make her disappear.’”
Adrian called Detective Ellis.
Police reviewed security logs from the estate on the night Charles died. One visitor had entered through the service gate using an old employee code.
Martin Vale.
According to official records, Claire’s father had been dead for more than forty years.
But someone using his code entered the Sterling estate eleven months earlier.
An autopsy had never been conducted on Charles. His death was ruled natural because of his age and history of heart disease.
Ellis requested exhumation.
Meanwhile, the handwriting expert delivered a preliminary conclusion. Marcus had probably not written the card. The similarities came from someone who had deliberately copied his writing.
“Who had access to samples?” Adrian asked.
“Anyone in your family or company.”
Marcus was released.
He met Adrian outside the station.
“You owe me an apology.”
“My son recognized the smell of your mints.”
Marcus pulled a silver tin from his pocket.
“Father carried these too.”
Adrian remembered.
Charles had kept them in every car and desk drawer.
“So did his driver,” Marcus added.
“How do you know?”
“Because I met Martin Vale.”
Adrian seized his arm.
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
Marcus pulled free.
“He approached me in London. He said Father had left a debt unpaid and that our family would lose everything unless I gave him access to company funds.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because he had photographs of Evelyn.”
“Recent photographs?”
Marcus nodded.
“She was alive. I could tell. The newspapers in the room showed current dates.”
Adrian’s anger became almost unbearable.
“You knew she was alive for three months?”
“I was trying to find her.”
“You should have come to me.”
“You would have gone to the police. Vale said he would kill her.”
“What did he want?”
“Five million dollars and control of Febria Holdings.”
“Did you pay?”
“I transferred one million.”
Adrian stared at him.
“That explains the missing amount in the company audit.”
“I was buying time.”
“You were funding him.”
Marcus’s face twisted.
“I thought I was saving our sister.”
Adrian wanted to strike him, but saw something in his brother’s expression he had rarely seen.
Shame.
“Where did you meet?”
“A private club in London. He used another name, but later I compared his photograph to old employee records.”
“What name?”
“Julian Cross.”
Detective Ellis searched the alias.
Julian Cross owned a private medical-transport company operating across New York, Connecticut, and Maryland. Its vehicles had been used to transfer patients from Blue Haven.
He had access to Margaret.
He could have moved Evelyn.
And he was alive.
A warrant was issued, but Cross had vanished from his Manhattan residence.
Police found orange mints on the kitchen counter and several forged passports.
One passport carried Martin Vale’s photograph.
Another carried Marcus Sterling’s name.
In a locked desk, investigators found surveillance photographs of Adrian, Claire, Noah, and Vivian.
One photograph showed Noah standing outside his school.
It had been taken two weeks before the gala.
On the back, someone had written:
The boy knows where Charles hid the final recording.
Adrian rushed to the hotel.
Noah was safe with two officers, but the suite had been searched while they were downstairs having breakfast. Nothing appeared stolen.
Then Noah opened his backpack.
The wooden model airplane Adrian had brought from Boston was gone.
May you like
In its place lay an orange mint and a message.
Bring the silver key to Pier 19 at midnight, or Evelyn disappears forever. Come alone.
