Chapter 5 - The Room That Wasn’t There
The sound came from the wall beside the fireplace, three measured taps followed by two. Adam motioned for everyone to stay still. His weapon remained trained on the paneling.
“Martin?” he called.
The house answered with silence.
Lenore pulled Camille toward the kitchen. “There is a service tunnel beneath the pantry.”
“You knew about this house.”
“I knew about the property.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the only one I have time to give.”
Adam heard them. “No tunnels. We go through the front.”
“The front is watched,” Lenore said.
“How do you know?”
“Because I saw the man watching it before we arrived.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed. “You let us drive into a trap?”
“I didn’t know whose trap it was.”
The panel beside the fireplace shifted. A thin line of darkness appeared.
Adam shoved Camille and Lucy behind the kitchen island. He moved toward the wall, then stopped when a voice emerged from the gap.
“Adam Mercer,” the voice said. “You look exactly like your father.”
“Come out.”
“Not until Lenore tells the truth.”
Lenore’s face had gone white.
“Arthur,” she whispered.
The panel opened. A man in his late sixties stepped through, thin and stooped but alert. He wore a brown cardigan and carried no weapon. He did not wear a watch.
Lucy peered over the island. “You fix clocks.”
Arthur Bell gave her a tired smile. “I used to.”
Adam kept his weapon raised. “You were the accountant.”
“I was the bookkeeper. Accountants know where money goes. Bookkeepers know who carried it.”
“Where is Olivia?” Camille asked.
Arthur looked at her as if she were a ghost. “You have her eyes.”
“Where is she?”
“Alive, last I knew.”
Camille stepped forward. “You knew her?”
“I helped her leave.”
Lenore shut her eyes.
Arthur removed a small brass token from his pocket. The number 17 was stamped into it.
“The key opens a box at Saint Agnes,” he said. “The box contains only half the ledger.”
Adam lowered the weapon an inch. “And the other half?”
“With Olivia.”
“Why would she send us after it now?” Camille asked.
Arthur’s gaze moved to Lucy. “Because the Circle has begun again.”
“Rusk is dead,” Adam said.
“Dead men leave companies.”
He explained that Halcyon Meridian had been dissolved after the waterfront collapse, but its assets had passed through shell companies. The network had recently resurfaced under the name Meridian Renewal, with a new project: a private medical district on the same unstable harbor ground Daniel had condemned.
“Who runs it?” Camille asked.
“A woman called the Curator.”
“That’s not a name.”
“It is the only name anyone uses.”
The back door rattled.
Adam moved. “How many?”
Arthur answered, “Four outside. Perhaps five.”
“You brought them here.”
“They followed me.”
“Why didn’t you warn us?”
“Because I needed to know whether Lenore still belonged to them.”
Camille looked at her aunt. “Did you?”
Lenore’s voice shook. “Once.”
Arthur reached into his cardigan and produced a photograph. It showed Lenore standing beside Olivia and a man Camille had never seen. On the back, a date had been written: THE NIGHT WE CHANGED THE GIRL’S NAME.
Camille stared at it. “My name?”
“Your mother gave you a new identity,” Lenore said. “Camille Rowan was not the name on your birth certificate.”
The windows shattered.
Adam pushed Lucy to the floor as bullets tore through the kitchen cabinets. Arthur disappeared through the hidden panel. Lenore grabbed Camille’s arm and pulled her toward the pantry.
“You’re leaving him?” Camille shouted.
“He knows where to go.”
Adam fired twice toward the window. A figure outside fell back.
“Move!” he shouted.
The pantry floor swung open beneath a stack of flour sacks. A ladder descended into darkness.
Camille looked at Lenore. “What was my name?”
Lenore climbed down. “Olivia called you Elise.”
Another bullet struck the doorframe.
Camille followed Adam into the tunnel, carrying Lucy against her chest. Behind them, the house filled with smoke.
At the bottom of the ladder, Arthur waited beside a rusted rail cart.
“The box at Saint Agnes must be opened before sunrise,” he said.
May you like
Adam climbed aboard. “And if we’re too late?”
Arthur looked at Camille. “The Curator will know that Elise Rowan is alive.”
