Chapter 8 - Celeste’s SecretFor eleven years, Elias had visited his mother’s grave on her birthday.
Never on the anniversary of her death.
Nora learned this while sitting beside him in the car outside St. Augustine Cemetery.
“Why her birthday?” she asked.
“Because death already gets enough attention.”
It was such an Elias answer that Nora almost smiled.
Almost.
They had returned because Wexler’s words would not leave them alone.
Celeste knew.
Knew what?
About Parcel 14?
About Adrian?
About the Gray Ledger?
About Grant?
Perhaps all of it.
Mason had moved Wexler to a secure hospital.
Adrian had vanished.
Not dramatically.
His office simply said he was unavailable.
His phone went unanswered.
Elias considered that proof of guilt.
Nora considered it irritating.
They entered the mausoleum again.
This time Nora ignored the compartment beneath the bench.
She studied the walls.
“Your mother hid the key beneath her piano.”
“Yes.”
“She recorded Edward.”
“Yes.”
“She knew this place.”
“Yes.”
“Then she expected you to find the tape.”
“Eventually.”
“No.”
Nora looked at him.
“She expected someone smart enough to understand her clues to find it.”
“That was unnecessarily insulting.”
“You spent eleven years not finding it.”
“Continue.”
Nora examined Celeste’s plaque.
CELESTE KELLER ROURKE.
1962–2015.
Beloved mother.
Nothing about wife.
Interesting.
She ran her fingers around the stone edge.
One corner moved.
“Elias.”
He came closer.
Together they removed the plaque.
Behind it sat another envelope.
Elias stared.
“My family needs hobbies.”
Nora opened it.
Inside was a letter.
Not to Elias.
To Grant.
Grant,
If you are reading this, then I failed to stop Carlo from making enemies out of his sons.
Nora stopped.
Elias took the letter.
His hands shook.
He continued reading aloud.
Yes, sons.
You were right about Margaret.
Adrian is Carlo’s child.
But you were wrong about why Carlo paid her.
He did not pay Margaret to hide Adrian.
He paid because he believed Parcel 14 caused her illness.
Elias sat on the stone bench.
Nora continued reading.
Edward discovered the contamination. Carlo discovered it later. By then, the damage had already been concealed by men who worked beneath him and men he had paid to keep other secrets.
He chose to continue the concealment.
That choice belongs to him.
Do not forgive him for it because I loved him.
Nora paused.
Even dead, Celeste refused simplicity.
The letter continued.
Edward wanted public disclosure.
Carlo believed disclosure would destroy the company, expose hundreds of employees, and send several powerful men to prison.
They fought.
Edward left.
His death was an accident.
I know because I was in the car behind him.
Elias closed his eyes.
Grant had spent eighteen years believing Carlo killed his father.
Celeste had known otherwise.
Why had she not told him?
The next paragraph answered.
Grant, I tried to tell you this after the funeral.
You were eighteen, grieving, and furious.
You told me I had chosen Carlo over my brother.
Perhaps you were right.
I waited too long.
By the time I found courage, you had built your life around hatred.
Nora looked at Elias.
He stared at the floor.
The final paragraphs were worse.
I copied the Gray Ledger because Carlo would not confess.
I gave part of it to Arthur Bell.
I gave another part to Margaret Vale.
And I kept the final part.
If those pieces are ever reunited, they will expose people far more dangerous than Carlo.
Do not reunite them unless you are prepared for what truth costs.
Elias whispered, “She copied it.”
Nora nodded.
“The buyer may not have purchased the whole ledger from Grant.”
“He only had one piece.”
“Exactly.”
“So someone is collecting the pieces.”
Nora reread the letter.
Arthur Bell.
Margaret Vale.
Celeste.
Three custodians.
Margaret was dead.
Celeste was dead.
Arthur was alive.
Grant had Edward’s copies.
“Where is Celeste’s piece?” Nora asked.
Elias looked behind the plaque.
Nothing.
Mason called.
Nora answered.
“We found Adrian.”
“Where?”
“His office.”
“That sounds less dramatic than expected.”
“He’s bleeding.”
Nora stood.
“What happened?”
“Someone broke in.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
They reached Vale Infrastructure thirty minutes later.
Adrian sat in a conference room with a bandage across his forehead.
Broken glass covered the floor outside his office.
Elias entered first.
“You disappeared.”
Adrian looked up.
“I was unconscious.”
“That is moderately acceptable.”
Nora almost laughed.
Adrian noticed.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“A little.”
Elias placed Celeste’s letter on the table.
Adrian read it.
His face changed when he reached his mother’s name.
“She had a copy?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“We hoped you knew.”
Adrian shook his head.
“My mother never mentioned it.”
“What did they take from your office?” Nora asked.
“Nothing obvious.”
“Computers?”
“Still there.”
“Files?”
“Most.”
“Safe?”
“Untouched.”
Nora frowned.
“Then they weren’t stealing.”
Adrian looked at her.
“They were searching.”
“For the ledger.”
“Yes.”
Elias sat opposite him.
“Who contacted you four months ago?”
Adrian hesitated.
“Enough.”
Elias’s voice became dangerous.
“No more partial truths.”
Adrian looked at Nora.
She did not rescue him.
Finally he said, “Her name is Victoria Kane.”
Nora knew the name.
Everyone in Chicago finance did.
Victoria Kane was sixty-one.
Chairwoman of Kane Urban Development.
Philanthropist.
Political donor.
Widow.
Estimated net worth: 2.8 billion dollars.
More importantly, her late husband had served as deputy mayor during the Parcel 14 transaction.
Nora felt the structure emerge.
“What did she want from you?”
“Control of the terminals.”
“Why?”
“I thought redevelopment.”
“And now?”
Adrian looked at the letter.
“Maybe excavation.”
Nora understood.
“If evidence is buried there…”
“Records,” Adrian said. “Waste containers. Anything connecting Kane’s husband to the contamination.”
Elias’s jaw tightened.
“Grant sold her his part of the ledger.”
“Maybe.”
“And now she’s collecting the rest.”
“Maybe.”
“Stop saying maybe.”
“It’s what evidence allows.”
Nora glanced at Elias.
“See? I like him slightly more now.”
“I noticed.”
Adrian looked between them.
“This relationship is unsettling.”
“You get used to it,” Nora said.
Elias did not smile.
“What did Victoria threaten you with?”
Adrian’s expression changed.
Nora caught it.
“She threatened someone.”
Silence.
“Who?”
Adrian looked away.
“My daughter.”
Elias went still.
“You have a daughter?”
“Sixteen.”
Nora felt anger rise.
Not theatrical anger.
The colder kind.
“What did Kane say?”
“She sent photographs. School. Riding lessons. My ex-wife’s house.”
Elias stood.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because unlike you, I don’t have armed men following everyone I love.”
Elias flinched.
Adrian regretted it immediately.
Nora saw both.
“Where is your daughter now?”
“With her mother in Toronto.”
“Protected?”
“Yes.”
“Mason can reinforce it.”
“I don’t want your people near her.”
Elias’s voice softened unexpectedly.
“You should.”
Adrian looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because being proud is cheaper than burying someone.”
Silence.
Adrian nodded once.
The first trust between the brothers was not affection.
It was fear for a child.
Sometimes that was enough.
Nora’s phone buzzed.
A message from Sloane.
They had not spoken in two months.
Nora opened it.
A photograph.
Victoria Kane entering a restaurant.
Beside her walked a blonde woman.
Sloane.
Below the photograph:
I think we have a problem.
Nora immediately called.
Sloane answered in a whisper.
“Before you yell, I didn’t know.”
“Know what?”
“She contacted me three weeks ago.”
“Why?”
“She offered me a job.”
Elias and Adrian were watching Nora now.
“What job?”
“Public relations.”
“For Kane Urban?”
“Yes.”
“Sloane, where are you?”
Silence.
“Sloane?”
Her breathing changed.
Then she whispered:
May you like
“I’m in Victoria Kane’s house.”
The call ended.
