Chapter 6: Confessions in the Conservatory
The glass-paneled conservatory was filled with rows of dormant orchids and tropical ferns that thrived in the artificial humidity. It offered a panoramic view of the wet gardens, shielding them from the prying eyes of the crime scene technicians dusting the foyer for prints. Ethan sat on a wrought-iron bench, the black leather ledger heavy in his jacket pocket. Julian paced anxiously near the glass door, occasionally glancing back to ensure Vance wasn't listening.
"He knows," Julian whispered fiercely. "Vance isn't buying the accident story. If he looks at Claire’s phone records, he’ll see the text messages I sent her demanding she hand over the ledger keys."
"You texted her threats?" Ethan demanded, his voice rising dangerously. "Are you out of your mind, Julian?"
"I was desperate!" Julian hissed back, stopping to glare at Ethan. "You don't know what it’s like being under Eleanor’s thumb. Every dollar, every suit, every breath is rationed out to keep us dependent. I tried to borrow against my future trust. Claire found out and locked me out of the system. I lost my temper. I came here last night to reason with her."
"And did you?" Ethan asked, searching the younger man’s eyes for any flicker of deceit. "Did you push her?"
"No!" Julian whispered, slamming his palm against the glass pane. "When I got here, the side door was unlocked. I found her at the base of the stairs. She was already cold. But the front door security log showed someone else’s key fob was used at midnight—someone who left in a hurry before I arrived."
Ethan’s breath caught in his throat. "Whose key fob?"
"That’s the part that makes this whole house a nightmare," Julian said, his voice dropping to a gravelly murmur. "The log shows Eleanor’s personal override code was used. But Eleanor claims she was asleep in her west-wing suite all night and heard nothing."
"An override code can’t be used by accident," Ethan said slowly, the pieces of the puzzle clicking together with sickening precision. "It requires a biometric scan or a master passcode known only to the head of the estate."
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The conservatory door clicked open, and Detective Vance stepped inside, his breath pluming slightly in the cooler air of the plant room. He looked at both men with an expression of quiet determination.
"Gentlemen," Vance said smoothly. "I just finished reviewing the security footage from the perimeter cameras. It seems the storm knocked out the main cloud server, but the local hard drive in the basement was fully functional. And it captured quite a vivid picture of who entered this house right around midnight."
