Chapter 2 - ROOM NINE
“Nine minutes until what?”
Victor asked the question too quickly.
Vincent did not look at him.
“Marcus.”
“I’m on it.”
Marcus turned toward his two remaining men.
“Search every wall.”
“Kitchen included.”
“Storage rooms.”
“Bathrooms.”
“Move.”
The guards spread out.
Vincent remained beside Sophie.
She had seen the photograph.
Her small face had lost what little color remained.
“That’s him.”
Vincent crouched again.
“The man you saw downstairs?”
Sophie nodded.
“He was awake before.”
“What did they do to him?”
“I don’t know.”
Her voice shook.
“I heard them arguing.”
“About what?”
“They kept saying Room Nine.”
Vincent looked toward Lydia.
Her eyes moved away.
There it was.
Small.
Almost invisible.
But Vincent caught it.
“You know Room Nine.”
Lydia shook her head.
“No.”
“You reacted.”
“I reacted because a frightened child said a number.”
“No.”
Vincent stood.
“You reacted because you recognized it.”
Victor stepped forward.
“Vincent, interrogating everyone isn’t getting Gabriel out of whatever room he’s in.”
Vincent finally looked at him.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“You believe it’s Gabriel.”
Victor’s jaw tightened.
“The man looks like him.”
“Fourteen years changes people.”
“Apparently not enough.”
Vincent studied him.
“You dropped your glass before seeing the photograph.”
Victor did not blink.
“Sophie had already said Gabriel’s name.”
“I never said she did.”
The room seemed to contract.
Victor’s face went blank.
Vincent continued.
“I only said someone frightened her.”
“No one in this room heard what she whispered.”
Victor inhaled slowly.
“Come on, Vincent.”
“You’ve known me for twenty years.”
“I know what Gabriel’s name does to you.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting while your brother may be dying downstairs.”
Sophie suddenly looked toward Victor.
Vincent saw it.
Not fear exactly.
Confusion.
He gently touched her shoulder.
“Do you recognize him?”
Victor gave a dry laugh.
“She’s a traumatized nine-year-old.”
Vincent never took his eyes off Sophie.
“Do you recognize Mr. Shaw?”
Sophie stared at Victor for several seconds.
“I heard his voice.”
Victor’s face hardened.
“Where?”
“Behind the door.”
“That’s impossible.”
Sophie flinched.
Vincent stepped between them.
“Don’t raise your voice at her.”
“I’m not.”
“You just did.”
Victor held up both hands.
“I was sitting at this table all evening.”
Sophie shook her head.
“Not tonight.”
Vincent looked at her.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
No one moved.
Victor’s eyes narrowed.
“Yesterday I was in Boston.”
Vincent knew that.
At least, he knew Victor’s aircraft had been in Boston.
There was a difference.
Sophie whispered again.
“You said my dad should have stopped digging.”
Victor stared at her.
“That never happened.”
She stepped behind Vincent.
“You said he got what stubborn men get.”
Vincent felt a cold anger enter his chest.
Sophie’s father, Daniel Carter, had worked for Hale Meridian’s internal audit division.
Eight months earlier, Daniel had died when his car went over a guardrail north of Stamford.
Police ruled it an accident.
Vincent had questioned it.
Daniel had been one of the most careful men he knew.
He had also sent Vincent a strange message forty-eight hours before his death.
WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT GABRIEL.
Vincent had assumed Daniel meant Gabriel’s old trust accounts.
He had never learned the truth.
Daniel died before they could meet.
Now his nine-year-old daughter was telling Vincent that Victor had threatened him.
Victor laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
Because anger had begun to crack through his control.
“This is insane.”
Vincent turned to Marcus.
“Take his phone.”
Victor stepped back.
“No.”
Marcus approached anyway.
“Give me the phone, Mr. Shaw.”
“You don’t work for him in this room.”
Marcus almost smiled.
“I work for him everywhere.”
Victor looked at Vincent.
“Think very carefully.”
“I am.”
“We built Hale Meridian together after Gabriel died.”
“After Gabriel disappeared.”
“He died.”
Vincent’s eyes hardened.
“You seem increasingly desperate to keep saying that.”
A loud metallic sound came from the service corridor.
Marcus turned.
One guard called out.
“Found something.”
Vincent moved.
Sophie grabbed his hand.
“Don’t leave me.”
He stopped immediately.
“I won’t.”
He looked at Marcus.
“She stays with us.”
The group moved toward the corridor.
Marcus ordered everyone else to remain in the dining room.
Vincent, Sophie, Marcus, Lydia, and Victor entered a narrow service hall behind the kitchens.
A guard knelt beside a section of paneled wall.
Fresh scratches surrounded a brass hinge.
“There’s pressure behind it.”
Marcus placed his hand against the wall.
“Stand back.”
He shoved.
Nothing.
He struck the panel with his shoulder.
Once.
Twice.
On the third hit, part of the wall swung inward.
Cold air came out.
Behind it was a concrete staircase descending into darkness.
Lydia whispered something under her breath.
Vincent heard her.
“No.”
He turned.
“You’ve seen this.”
Lydia’s mouth opened.
“No.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“What were you going to say?”
She shook her head.
“Nothing.”
Sophie suddenly pointed toward the floor.
“There.”
A small brass plate was fixed beside the stairs.
Nine.
Room Nine.
Vincent’s pulse jumped.
Marcus drew his weapon.
Victor immediately said, “We should call the police.”
Marcus looked at him.
“Already tried.”
“What?”
“No signal outside this floor.”
Victor frowned.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Neither do disappearing walls.”
Vincent looked down the staircase.
“Police won’t reach Gabriel in nine minutes.”
Marcus checked his watch.
“Seven now.”
They descended.
The stairs were much older than the club above.
Brick walls.
Copper pipes.
Exposed wiring.
The Bellgrave Club had existed since 1912.
Vincent’s grandfather had been one of its earliest members.
Gabriel had renovated part of the property two years before his supposed death.
Vincent remembered something.
Gabriel had once joked that Bellgrave had more secrets underground than it had whiskey upstairs.
Vincent had thought he was joking.
At the bottom of the stairs was a steel door.
A keypad glowed beside it.
Marcus tried the handle.
Locked.
Sophie spoke.
“Four-seven-one-nine.”
Everyone looked at her.
“The ring man typed it.”
Marcus entered the numbers.
Red light.
Denied.
“Maybe reversed.”
Vincent entered 9174.
Denied.
Sophie frowned.
“He pressed something first.”
“What?”
She stared at the keys.
Then she touched the Bellgrave crest above them.
The crest moved.
A hidden scanner lit beneath it.
Biometric.
Vincent stared.
Gabriel had designed this.
He remembered his brother insisting on fingerprint access for Hale Meridian’s old trading floor.
Vincent placed his thumb against the scanner.
A beep.
Green.
The door unlocked.
Marcus opened it.
Inside was an empty room.
One chair.
Rope on the floor.
A camera mounted on the wall.
But Gabriel was gone.
Vincent crossed the room.
The photograph had been taken here.
There was no question.
The same cracked tile.
The same rust stain.
The same overhead light.
Marcus examined the rope.
“Cut less than a minute ago.”
Vincent turned.
“Another exit.”
They searched.
Nothing.
Sophie moved toward the wall.
“He went through there.”
“How do you know?”
“I heard the wheels.”
Vincent looked at her.
“What wheels?”
“They put his chair on something.”
A faint mechanical hum came from beneath the floor.
Marcus’s face changed.
“Freight system.”
Vincent looked down.
The center section of the floor contained two nearly invisible metal seams.
A concealed lift.
Marcus hit the emergency release.
Nothing.
The phone in Vincent’s pocket vibrated.
The unknown phone.
Another message.
TOO SLOW.
Then a live video appeared.
Gabriel was strapped to the same chair.
This time he was somewhere darker.
Behind him, water moved.
Black water.
A tunnel.
Vincent heard Gabriel breathe.
Then Gabriel lifted his face toward the camera.
His lips moved.
At first there was no sound.
Then the audio activated.
“Vincent.”
The voice broke something inside him.
Older.
Weaker.
But unquestionably Gabriel.
“Don’t trust Victor.”
May you like
Marcus instantly turned.
Victor Shaw was no longer standing behind them.
