Chapter 10: Night in the Nursery
Midnight draped the estate in absolute darkness, broken only by the pale beams of a crescent moon cutting through the high arched windows. Clara knelt once more on the hearth rug in the nursery, holding a heavy iron flashlight. Maya stood guard by the door, while Eleanor held a cardboard box meant to hold whatever documentation they could salvage.
Clara shone the beam of light into the dark cavity behind the loose stone. Beneath the primary leather-bound journal lay a smaller, steel lockbox that had been wedged tightly into the mortar. Arthur hadn't mentioned this box in his main confessions; it was his ultimate contingency plan.
"I found it," Clara whispered, pulling the heavy steel box free with a dull scrape of metal against stone. She set it down on the Persian rug. There was no keyhole, only a digital numeric keypad powered by an internal lithium battery that still glowed a faint, amber hue.
Eleanor knelt beside her, squinting at the tiny numbers. "Arthur’s security codes were always tied to significant dates. Try Thomas’s birthday. July twelfth, nineteen-sixty-four."
Clara’s fingers hovered over the keypad. She pressed 07121964.
The keypad flashed red, and a sharp electronic beep echoed in the quiet room. Two attempts remaining.
"Wait," Maya said from the doorway, stepping closer. "Not Thomas's birthday. Arthur felt too much guilt over that. Try the date of the fire. November third, nineteen-ninety-one."
Clara pressed 11031991.
May you like
The keypad blinked green, and with a heavy internal thud, the steel lid popped open an inch.
Clara lifted the lid. Inside, resting on a velvet lining, were three heavy bearer bonds issued by a Swiss banking conglomerate, along with a laminated authorization card bearing Arthur’s signature and a string of cryptographic access keys. At the bottom of the box sat a single, handwritten envelope addressed simply to Whoever Survives Me.
