Chapter 3 - The Locked Room
Frank arrived twenty minutes later carrying gloves, evidence bags, and the same weathered leather case he had used during his years as a detective.
He examined the urn without disturbing its contents.
“This is construction material,” he said. “There might be traces of actual cremains mixed in, but I doubt it.”
“Then whose body was in the car?”
“We don’t know that there was an identifiable body.”
“The police said there was.”
“Marcus told you the dental records matched, correct?”
Arthur nodded. “That’s what the report said.”
“Did you ever see the report yourself?”
“No. Marcus handled everything.”
Frank removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We need to proceed carefully. If official records were falsified, this could involve more people than Marcus.”
The possibility made Arthur feel sick.
He showed Frank the death certificate and funeral documents. Frank photographed each page and promised to contact a former colleague who could access archived case files legally.
“What about Leo?” Arthur asked.
“Until we know whether he’s in immediate danger, behave normally. Don’t let Marcus realize the boy warned you.”
“What if Marcus hurts him?”
“Then we move immediately. But if we confront Marcus without evidence, he could take Leo and disappear.”
Arthur hated the logic, but he understood it.
The next morning, he opened the hardware store as usual.
At ten, Marcus called.
“Have you made the transfer?”
“Not yet.”
“I told you I need it by Friday.”
“I’m waiting for funds from a rental account.”
It was the first lie Arthur had ever told him.
Marcus sighed. “You should have planned better.”
Arthur tightened his grip on the phone. “I’ll have it soon.”
“You’d better.”
The call ended.
That afternoon, Frank parked an unremarkable gray sedan two blocks from Marcus’s house. Arthur joined him in the passenger seat wearing an old baseball cap.
At four fifteen, Marcus left alone in the black SUV.
They followed him across town, maintaining several vehicles between them. Marcus stopped first at a private bank. He remained inside for nearly forty minutes before emerging with a slim document case.
His next destination was an upscale apartment building.
The blonde woman met him in the underground parking garage.
Even from a distance, Arthur recognized her immediately.
She had removed her sunglasses. Her hair was shorter and lighter than Claire’s had been, and her face appeared thinner. Yet when Marcus said something that upset her, she lifted her chin in precisely the way Claire had done as a teenager.
Arthur reached for the door handle.
Frank caught his wrist.
“Not yet.”
“That could be my daughter.”
“And if it is, we need to know why she’s hiding.”
Marcus handed the woman an envelope. She opened it, counted the money, and spoke to him angrily.
Frank had positioned a small directional microphone near the open window.
Their voices crackled through the receiver.
“This isn’t enough,” the woman said.
“It’s all you’re getting until Arthur sends the transfer.”
“I told you I’m done helping you.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“I want to see Leo.”
Arthur stopped breathing.
Marcus stepped closer to her. “You know the agreement.”
“He’s my son.”
The words struck Arthur with such force that his vision blurred.
Frank whispered, “Stay still.”
The woman continued. “You promised I could see him when he turned six.”
“I promised you a lot of things.”
“You can’t keep me away forever.”
Marcus laughed. “I can if you want to stay out of prison.”
She slapped him.
Marcus seized her wrist and shoved her against a concrete pillar.
Arthur surged forward, but Frank held him back.
“If you go now, we lose everything.”
“He’s hurting her.”
“We have it recorded. Give me ten seconds.”
Marcus released the woman.
“You helped create this situation, Claire,” he said. “Don’t pretend you’re innocent.”
Arthur’s eyes filled with tears.
Claire.
She was alive.
His daughter had been standing less than fifty yards away while he and Evelyn mourned her for six years.
Claire covered her face with both hands.
“I didn’t know anyone would die.”
“But someone did.”
“I want to tell Dad the truth.”
“You do that, and the police learn everything. You’ll spend the rest of your life in prison, and Leo will grow up knowing his mother is a murderer.”
Marcus climbed into the SUV.
Claire remained beside the pillar until he drove away.
Arthur tried to leave the car again.
Frank stopped him.
“She may run if you approach her now.”
“She’s my child.”
“I know. But she’s frightened, and Marcus has controlled her for years. Let’s find out where she goes.”
Claire entered the apartment building through a service door.
Frank recorded the address.
That night, they reviewed the original crash file obtained by Frank’s former colleague.
The report contained serious irregularities.
The car was registered to Claire, but the identification process had relied heavily on personal items recovered from the wreck. The dental confirmation came from records submitted by a clinic that closed three months later.
The dentist who signed the comparison had moved overseas.
Most disturbing of all, the medical examiner had initially classified the victim as an unidentified woman between twenty-five and forty. The name Claire Vance appeared only after Marcus provided the dental records.
Arthur stared at the report.
“Who was the woman in the car?”
Frank turned to another page. “A waitress named Rachel Dunn disappeared from a town twenty miles away that same night. She was thirty-one and had no close relatives living locally.”
“Marcus killed her?”
“We don’t know.”
“Claire said she didn’t know anyone would die.”
“That suggests she participated in something but may not have understood Marcus’s entire plan.”
Frank enlarged a traffic-camera photograph taken near the highway on the night of the crash. Claire’s sedan appeared at a gas station at 9:42 p.m.
A second vehicle waited near the exit.
Marcus’s old pickup truck.
Arthur pressed a hand against his mouth.
The next morning, Frank contacted the apartment manager and claimed he was investigating a property-insurance issue. He learned that the blonde woman rented under the name Laura Bennett and rarely received visitors.
Arthur could no longer wait.
He went to the building alone.
He climbed three flights of stairs and stood before apartment 314. For several seconds, he could not raise his hand.
Then he knocked.
Footsteps approached.
The door opened three inches, secured by a chain.
The blonde woman stared through the gap.
Her face drained of color.
“Dad?”
Arthur’s knees nearly gave way.
He had imagined hearing that word a thousand times since the funeral.
“Claire.”
She slammed the door.
Arthur heard the chain slide and believed she was about to let him in.
Instead, footsteps rushed away.
“Claire, please.”
A window opened inside.
Arthur stepped back and hurried toward the stairwell, but Claire emerged through another door at the end of the corridor. She ran downstairs and disappeared into the alley.
Arthur followed as quickly as his aging legs allowed.
When he reached the street, she was gone.
His phone rang.
Marcus’s name appeared on the screen.
Arthur answered.
“You should have kept sending the money,” Marcus said.
Arthur’s blood turned cold.
“Where is my daughter?”
A quiet laugh came through the speaker.
“You’re asking the wrong question.”
“What question should I ask?”
“You should ask where your grandson is.”
Arthur immediately called Leo’s school.
The administrator checked the attendance system.
“Leo was collected twenty minutes ago by his father.”
Arthur looked toward Claire’s empty apartment window.
May you like
Marcus knew the secret had been exposed.
And now he had Leo.
