Chapter 9 - The Tunnel beneath the East Wing
The service tunnel had been built during the nineteen twenties.
Household staff once used it to move food and supplies between the carriage building and the main estate during winter.
My father sealed most entrances after purchasing the property.
Adrian reopened the guesthouse section during renovations without telling me.
He said the construction concerned drainage.
The estate plans showed something else.
A narrow corridor reached the east study wall.
Someone could enter the property, access the study, and leave without appearing on exterior cameras.
That explained how Victoria placed documents inside the steel box without Adrian seeing her carry them through the house.
It also explained how my passport and medical records moved between rooms.
Police entered the tunnel from the carriage building.
I remained at Rebecca’s office watching the body camera feed.
The corridor smelled of damp stone and fresh paint.
New electrical cables ran along one wall.
Halfway beneath the garden, officers found a monitoring station.
Two screens displayed estate cameras.
A third displayed my bedroom.
A fourth displayed the downstairs bathroom where I hid the burner phone.
The camera had been installed behind the ventilation grille.
Victoria had watched me remove the loose tile.
That was why she recognized the black phone immediately.
She knew the hiding place.
She did not know the passcode or what evidence had already been transmitted.
The monitoring station contained printed screenshots.
Me speaking with Rebecca.
Me meeting Mason in the garden.
Me reviewing trust records.
Adrian and Victoria had known about my investigation for at least three weeks.
They allowed it to continue because they wanted to identify every person helping me.
One note listed names.
Rebecca.
Mason.
Naomi.
Maria.
Nora.
Beside each name sat a strategy.
Professional complaint.
Financial pressure.
Confidentiality enforcement.
Immigration review.
Medical credibility attack.
They planned retaliation against every witness.
Officers reached the east study entrance.
The hidden door stood open.
The founder safe behind my father’s portrait had been forced.
The estate trust key was missing.
The key itself was not a physical key to the house.
It was a cryptographic device used to approve changes inside Mercer Residential Trust when the online system failed.
My father created it after a cyberattack years earlier.
Only I could activate it with a personal code.
Yet the device also contained original property schedules and historic signatures.
Charles could use copies to make forged documents appear authentic.
Adrian and Victoria had returned for it.
Fresh blood marked the safe handle.
A trail led back into the tunnel.
Police followed.
The guesthouse exit was open.
A vehicle had left through the service gate twelve minutes earlier.
Traffic cameras identified Victoria’s car heading north.
Adrian drove.
Victoria sat beside him.
A third person occupied the rear seat.
The image was unclear.
Older woman.
Silver hair.
Mason enlarged the frame.
The passenger might have been Margaret Holloway.
If so, Adrian and Victoria had located her before investigators did.
Or the passenger was someone dressed to resemble her for a financial transaction.
The car disappeared near a private medical airfield.
No scheduled flight departed.
One hangar camera had been disabled.
Inside the hangar, officers found Victoria’s car, blood on the rear seat, and an empty wheelchair.
A medical transport plane had left without filing a passenger list.
Canadian authorities closed likely landing sites.
The aircraft’s transponder stopped over the Atlantic coast.
The trust key remained active.
At eleven forty, someone attempted to use it against Mercer Family Office.
The request did not transfer the estate.
It opened a dormant beneficiary account created by my father.
Account name: Mercer Holloway Reconciliation Reserve.
I had never seen it.
The account contained twelve million dollars and an old legal instruction.
Funds could be released only if Margaret Holloway personally confirmed that Victoria had returned her original property rights.
My father had known Margaret.
Rebecca searched archived correspondence.
He met her twenty years earlier when Mercer Family Office considered investing in Holloway properties.
Margaret told him Victoria was attempting to remove her.
My father created the reserve to finance Margaret’s legal defense if she ever regained independent access.
He died before she could use it.
Victoria had spent years searching for the reserve.
My marriage gave her access to the Mercer system.
Taking control of me would give her the trust key.
Margaret was not simply a witness to the Holloway fortune.
She was the beneficiary of money Victoria could not reach without her.
The aircraft may have carried her because Victoria needed a living confirmation.
The trust request failed.
The biometric check did not recognize the person presented as Margaret.
Either she refused.
Or the passenger was not her.
A video file arrived through the trust portal.
An older woman sat inside an aircraft cabin.
Her silver hair was disordered. A bruise marked her temple.
Victoria remained outside the frame.
The woman looked into the camera.
“My name is Margaret Holloway.”
Her voice was weak but clear.
“Grace, do not release the reserve.”
Someone reached toward her.
The video ended.
Then another request struck the trust system.
This time, the biometric pattern matched Margaret.
Rebecca looked at me.
“They have her.”
The release still required my authorization.
A message appeared beneath the request.
May you like
Approve before sunrise, or Margaret returns to the place where no one found her.
Continue to the next part: Grace must choose whether to release the hidden reserve while police search for the aircraft carrying Victoria, Adrian, and Margaret.
