Chapter 6 - My Dead Uncle Came Back for the Heir
Victor survived.
Barely.
He spent three days in intensive care.
Before surgery, he grabbed my arm.
“Your uncle…”
“I know.”
“He isn't alone.”
“Who?”
“Your lawyer.”
I thought of Leonard.
“He's dead.”
“No.”
Victor shook his head.
“Leonard worked for someone else too.”
“Who?”
He whispered,
“Your mother.”
I froze.
“What?”
Victor closed his eyes.
“She knew.”
That sentence followed me for days.
My mother knew about the network.
She knew about Theo.
She knew about Richard.
And she knew Victor was protecting me.
But why hadn't she told me?
The answer arrived in a package.
A box addressed to Arthur Pembroke.
Inside were twenty-four sealed letters.
One for every year since my mother's death.
The first was dated three weeks before she died.
The last was dated two days earlier.
I opened the oldest.
Arthur,
If Richard returns, protect the child.
I opened another.
I know what you will think of Victor.
You will believe he betrayed us.
He did not.
I read another.
Your father made a terrible decision.
He trusted Richard.
That trust almost destroyed all of us.
I finally reached the latest letter.
Arthur,
If you're reading this, Theo has found you.
Do not fear him.
He is not a weapon.
He is a child.
The people who want his inheritance will try to turn him into one.
Don't let them.
I cried.
For the first time since my mother died, I cried like her son.
She had been trying to reach me.
For twenty-four years.
And I had never known.
Then I read the final line.
Your uncle killed your father.
I stopped breathing.
Richard had murdered my father.
Not a car accident.
Not a heart attack.
Murder.
I showed the letter to Vincent.
He stared.
“Do you want revenge?”
“No.”
He looked surprised.
“I want proof.”
The investigation accelerated.
Victor gave testimony.
Martin agreed to cooperate.
Dr. Shaw provided hospital evidence.
Margaret Carter was still missing.
Until one afternoon, the phone rang.
A woman said,
“Arthur?”
I stood.
“Who's this?”
“Margaret.”
My heart stopped.
“Where are you?”
She gave me an address.
We found her in a small apartment in Cambridge.
Older.
Tired.
But alive.
Samuel broke down when he saw her.
Theo ran into her arms.
I stood in the doorway.
Margaret looked at me.
“Your mother would have been proud.”
I didn't know what to say.
“You knew her.”
“Yes.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“You stole my mother's bus.”
“No.”
She smiled.
“Your mother gave it to me.”
I looked down.
“Why?”
“Because she knew one day Theo would need it.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“Because your mother hid the first key inside it.”
“The key to what?”
“The Pembroke Trust.”
I froze.
Margaret explained that my grandfather had created a secret trust protecting vulnerable branches of the family.
Richard wanted to control it.
My father tried to block him.
The trust required two living beneficiaries.
Arthur.
And Theo.
That's why Richard needed the boy.
He needed me.
And he needed control of the legal documents.
“What happened to the trust?”
“It was hidden.”
“Where?”
Margaret looked at me.
“In your childhood house.”
We returned to the old Pembroke estate.
The house had been closed for years.
My childhood bedroom remained untouched.
Margaret took out a small key.
The yellow bus had contained a key.
The key opened a panel beneath the floor.
Inside was a metal box.
In it were original trust documents.
A list of properties.
Bank accounts.
And a letter from my father.
Arthur,
I know what I have done will make you angry.
I believed Richard could be controlled.
I was wrong.
The trust belongs to you and the youngest descendant.
Protect him.
My eyes filled with tears.
Then I saw the date.
The letter had been written the day before my father died.
He knew he was going to die.
He had prepared for it.
Richard hadn't simply murdered him.
He had forced him to sign the first transfer.
I looked at Margaret.
“Where is Richard now?”
She didn't answer.
Then Samuel entered.
“The police found him.”
“Where?”
“At the old harbor mansion.”
I left immediately.
Richard was waiting for me.
He stood beside the window.
Older.
Gray.
Smiling.
“My nephew.”
I raised my gun.
“You killed my father.”
“Yes.”
“You killed my mother.”
“No.”
“But you tried.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He stared at the harbor.
“Because your father had forgotten what our family was built on.”
“What?”
“Power.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
Richard smiled.
“That's where you're wrong.”
He pointed toward the street.
“You became powerful because I taught you.”
I looked at him.
“You didn't teach me anything.”
“You learned from fear.”
“No.”
I lowered my gun.
“I learned what not to become.”
For the first time, Richard looked uncertain.
Then he said,
“The boy dies tonight unless you sign over the trust.”
Theo.
Again.
Always Theo.
May you like
Richard had one final move.
And this time, I wasn't going to let him make it.
