Chương 5
Sophie absorbed that.
Then she asked, “What about Mommy?”
Mara did not offer a promise.
“I don’t know yet.”
The answer seemed to satisfy Sophie more than reassurance would have.
Half an hour later, Officer Alvarez came to the library.
Claire had left the room.
She had no obvious serious injuries. She had declined medical treatment. She insisted she had entered the room voluntarily because she was overwhelmed by the dinner.
She denied being locked inside against her will.
Grant denied everything.
No arrest had been made.
Sophie stood.
“That’s a lie.”
Officer Alvarez looked at her.
“I know you disagree.”
“He locks her in.”
“I heard you.”
“Then why isn’t he arrested?”
Alvarez breathed out slowly.
“Because what you told us matters, but we have to figure out what happened. Your mom is an adult. She’s telling us something different.”
“She’s scared.”
“I think she might be.”
“Then why are you listening to her?”
Damian saw Alvarez flinch.
It was not the question of a child who misunderstood the world.
It was the question of a child who understood one of its ugliest problems.
Alvarez crouched.
“Because being scared doesn’t mean your mom stops getting to speak for herself.”
Sophie’s eyes filled.
“She lies when he’s there.”
“We separated them.”
“She still knows he’s here.”
Alvarez nodded.
“That can matter too.”
Sophie looked at Damian.
“Make him leave.”
Mara spoke before Damian could.
“He will not be staying in this house tonight.”
Damian looked at her.
She looked back.
Legal counsel had apparently made one decision without him.
He approved.
Grant’s employment could be suspended pending investigation. He could be removed from Cross House as a workplace and residence subject to access arrangements for his belongings. Mara had already started calling the appropriate people.
For once Damian did not object to someone solving a problem before he reached it.
“Where’s Claire?” he asked.
“In the morning room,” Alvarez said. “She asked for Sophie.”
Sophie moved toward the door.
Alvarez stopped her gently.
“Your stepfather isn’t there.”
The child nodded and left with her.
Damian rose.
Mara waited until Sophie was gone.
“What exactly is that room?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s your house.”
“Yes, Mara. I’ve recently become aware of that.”
She watched him.
“That sounded like guilt.”
“Don’t diagnose me.”
“I bill too much for diagnosis.”
Michael entered.
His face was grim.
“We secured the electronic access records for the east wing.”
Damian looked at him.
“The door is mechanical.”
“Yes. But the corridor has motion sensors and a smart-lighting system. There’s also a magnetic contact sensor on that door.”
“Why?”
“Grant requested it eighteen months ago. Said he needed notification if staff entered a restricted area during renovation.”
Damian stared.
“Was there a renovation?”
“Not that I can find.”
Mara’s eyes sharpened.
“How long does the system keep logs?”
“Locally, a year. Cloud backup might go longer. We’re preserving what we have.”
“Do not alter anything,” she said.
“I know.”
Damian walked toward the hallway.
Mara caught his arm.
“Five minutes.”
“I’m calm.”
“You have the face you get before terminating entire departments.”
“I’ve never terminated an entire department.”
“Zurich.”
“That department deserved it.”
“Five minutes.”
He looked at her hand on his sleeve.
Then at the cream-and-gold door.
“Fine.”
He lasted three.
The room was smaller than Damian remembered.
The police had finished their initial walkthrough and allowed him inside only after making it clear he was not to touch anything that might matter.
It had once been a music storage room. He remembered old cello cases there when he was a teenager.
Now there was a narrow cot.
A lamp.
A chair.
A plastic bottle of water.
No windows.
No bathroom.
A small shelf held folded towels and two paperback novels.
The brass handle on the inside of the door was ordinary.
Above it, however, the frame showed newer screw holes.
Damian looked closer without touching.
A steel bracket had been installed outside.
The lock operated by key from the hallway.
Inside, there was no corresponding mechanism.
Claire could close the door.
She could put up the interior security bar.
But if Grant turned the outside lock, the interior handle did nothing.
Michael stood behind him.
“There’s something else.”
He pointed toward the upper corner of the room.
A tiny camera.
Not one of the estate’s normal security cameras.
Damian stared at it.
“Was that authorized?”
“No.”
“Connected to our network?”
“Working on it.”
Mara appeared behind them.
“Stop working on it.”
Michael looked at her.
“We can preserve network metadata without accessing content.”
“Then preserve metadata.”
Damian turned.
“You enjoy ordering people around in my house.”
“I enjoy preventing my client from turning an abuse investigation into an evidence-admissibility seminar.”
“My house.”
“Your lawsuit.”
Michael muttered, “I’m going downstairs.”
Damian almost smiled despite himself.
Then he looked at the cot.
A gray blanket had been folded at the foot.
There was a stain on the wall beside the pillow where someone’s hair or hand had repeatedly touched the paint.
The books were not random.
One was a mystery novel.
The other was a used guide to apartment leases in the state.
Damian stared at that one for a long time.
Claire had been planning to leave.
Grant knew.
A disposable cup sat on the floor beside the cot.
Inside it were three hairpins and a paper clip bent straight.
Mara saw them too.
Neither spoke.
The room did not need dramatic interpretation.
A person had spent enough time there to try things.
That was enough.
Grant left Cross House shortly after midnight.
He did not go quietly.
Not loudly either.
Grant understood appearances too well for that.
He stood in the foyer while Michael watched from ten feet away and two officers remained near the front doors.
“You are making a serious mistake,” Grant told Damian.
Damian had come downstairs because hiding from the confrontation felt cowardly.
“Possibly.”
“My wife has a documented history of anxiety.”
May you like
“Her medical history is none of my business.”
“She has episodes.”
