Chapter 7 - The Funeral
Norah remembered her father’s funeral clearly.
Rain.
Too many black umbrellas.
Her mother Rebecca wearing a navy dress because she said Elias hated black.
Norah was nineteen.
Angry at everyone.
Angry at the truck driver blamed for the crash.
Angry at the hospital for sending flowers.
Angry at her father for working another late night shift before driving exhausted.
She remembered a tall young man standing beyond the cemetery gate.
Dark suit.
Twenty something.
He never approached.
She had assumed he attended another burial.
Declan.
Now she sat outside his operating room holding the silver case and realizing memory had been incomplete, not false.
Vincent joined her.
Norah immediately moved the case closer.
He noticed.
“I am not going to take it.”
“Declan specifically said you might.”
“My nephew is dramatic when anesthetized.”
“He was not anesthetized when he said it.”
Vincent sat across from her.
“Your father saved Patrick’s life three times.”
“Declan’s father.”
“Yes.”
“What was Elias doing with your family?”
“Medicine.”
“That room is not for ordinary medicine.”
“No.”
“Why hide it?”
Vincent looked toward the operating theatre.
“Men in our world did not walk into public emergency rooms with gunshot wounds.”
“You say that like it is weather.”
“It was our reality.”
“Was?”
Vincent almost smiled.
“Declan has been trying to make parts of the family legitimate.”
“Parts.”
“He is not a saint.”
“Helpful.”
“Elias knew exactly who he was treating.”
“Did my mother?”
“Yes.”
Norah looked away.
Everything familiar had started moving.
“Why did she keep it from me?”
“Because she hated us.”
That answer came too fast.
Vincent continued.
“She tolerated Elias’s private work because the money paid your mortgage and your education. After he died, she blamed Hayes involvement.”
“Was she right?”
Vincent did not answer.
“Did you kill my father?”
“No.”
“Did Declan?”
“No.”
“Patrick?”
“No.”
“Adrian?”
“I do not know.”
At least one honest answer.
Vincent leaned forward.
“Elias died after refusing to alter a medical record.”
“Celeste Hayes.”
Declan’s mother.
Vincent looked surprised.
“Ryan told you.”
“Yes.”
Celeste Hayes died when Declan was eighteen.
Officially stroke caused by congenital vascular weakness.
Elias had privately drawn blood before the body was transferred.
The sample showed traces of a cardiac glycoside.
Potential poisoning.
“Who wanted the record changed?”
Vincent looked toward the hallway.
“My brother Patrick.”
Norah stared.
“Declan’s father wanted his wife’s poisoning hidden?”
“Patrick said public investigation would destroy the family and trigger a war.”
“Who poisoned her?”
“We never proved it.”
“Then why hide it?”
“Because Patrick believed he knew.”
“Who?”
Vincent looked at her.
“Me.”
Norah’s entire body tightened.
“You.”
“I was fighting Celeste over company control.”
“So Patrick suspected you.”
“Yes.”
“Did you do it?”
“No.”
“How reassuring.”
Vincent did not defend himself emotionally.
“Elias believed the toxin exposure could have been accidental or intentional. He refused to sign stroke as sole cause.”
“What happened?”
“Patrick ordered another doctor to complete the certificate.”
“Adrian?”
“No. Adrian was still junior.”
“Who?”
“Dr. Samuel Gray.”
Norah stopped breathing.
Gray.
Ryan’s mysterious recruiter.
“Samuel Gray.”
Vincent watched her face.
“You know the name?”
“Ryan said the man who recruited him called himself Gray.”
Vincent stood.
“Samuel Gray is dead.”
“When?”
“Ten years ago.”
“Body?”
“Heart attack in Florida.”
“Verified?”
Vincent said nothing.
Norah laughed without humor.
“Your family has a very flexible relationship with death certificates.”
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
No voice.
Only breathing.
Then a male whisper.
“Do not trust Vincent.”
The call ended.
Vincent stared.
“What?”
Norah did not answer.
She looked at the silver case.
Inside were specimen tubes.
One labeled CH 08.
Celeste Hayes.
Another label:
SHG.
Samuel Henry Gray?
She pulled it out carefully.
Vincent’s face changed.
“What is that?”
“You tell me.”
He stepped closer.
Norah moved back.
The tube contained dried blood residue.
Old.
Sealed.
Elias had preserved Samuel Gray’s sample too.
Why?
The operating room doors opened.
Declan survived surgery.
Bullet removed.
The surgeon carried it into evidence packaging at his request.
Custom round.
Serial microstamp.
Hayes Security Armory.
Weapon assignment could be traced.
Marcus took the report.
Then went pale.
“What?”
Declan asked from the recovery bed.
Marcus held up the tablet.
“The bullet came from weapon H17.”
“Whose?”
Marcus looked at Vincent.
“Your personal detail.”
Vincent’s face hardened.
“That weapon was reported stolen two months ago.”
“By who?” Norah asked.
Marcus answered:
“Vincent.”
Norah looked at the older man.
Two months before her job offer.
Before Ryan opened the vault.
Before Declan recovered the case.
The gun used to shoot Declan had been missing long before tonight.
Then Declan whispered from the bed:
“Check the theft report.”
Marcus opened it.
Filed by:
Peter Lowe.
May you like
Adrian Cole’s missing security officer.
Continue to the next part: The weapon that shot Declan disappeared months earlier, and the theft was reported by the same security officer who vanished on the night of the ambush.
