Chapter 4 - The Trust No One Was Supposed to Find
Thomas Vale looked nothing like the monster Elena had imagined.
That unsettled her.
He was sixty-three.
Thin.
Gray-haired.
His shoulders stooped beneath an old brown jacket.
When security brought him into the library, he did not fight.
He did not shout.
He simply looked toward Elena and began to cry.
“I’m sorry.”
Elena remained standing.
Julian was beside her.
Daniel sat near the desk.
Margarethe had been placed under supervision in another room after surrendering Arthur’s diary.
Thomas stared at Elena.
“You look like Marianne.”
“Don’t.”
His face collapsed.
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You’re right.”
Elena wanted to hate him.
Maybe she already did.
But hatred was harder when the person in front of you looked broken rather than evil.
“Why were you waiting for Margarethe?”
Thomas swallowed.
“She called me.”
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“How?”
“I gave her a prepaid phone months ago.”
Julian leaned forward.
“Why?”
Thomas looked embarrassed.
“Because she was afraid this day would come.”
“What day?”
“The day Elena learned about the trust.”
Elena frowned.
“You knew?”
Thomas nodded.
“Your grandfather told me.”
Daniel looked stunned.
“Arthur told you about the trust?”
“Before he died.”
“Why?”
Thomas stared at his hands.
“Because I was part of the reason he created it.”
Elena felt cold.
“Start talking.”
Thomas took a long breath.
“After your mother died, your grandfather paid me to leave.”
“We found the ledger.”
“He thought the police would discover what happened.”
“Why didn’t they?”
“Because the brake line ruptured during the crash. There wasn’t enough evidence to prove tampering.”
“And you took his money.”
Thomas closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Two hundred thousand dollars.”
“Yes.”
“You killed my mother and got paid.”
His eyes filled with tears.
“I believed I was creating a small leak.”
“That’s what Margarethe said.”
“Arthur told me Marianne was driving to the private airfield. He wanted the warning light to appear before she reached the main road.”
“Did Margarethe know?”
Thomas hesitated.
“Yes.”
Elena’s jaw tightened.
“How much?”
“She knew Arthur asked me to make the car unusable.”
“But not that you touched the brakes?”
“I don’t know exactly what he told her.”
Julian spoke.
“What went wrong?”
Thomas rubbed his face.
“The car had been serviced two days earlier. I thought I was loosening the auxiliary hydraulic connection.”
“You thought?”
“I was rushed. It was raining. Arthur kept calling.”
“You cut the main brake line.”
Thomas nodded.
“I realized later.”
Elena turned away.
For a moment she could see nothing but her mother’s photograph.
Marianne smiling.
Alive.
“I heard about the crash on the radio,” Thomas continued. “I came back.”
“You came back here?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To confess.”
Elena turned.
“What happened?”
“Arthur stopped me.”
Daniel frowned.
“He stopped you from going to police?”
Thomas nodded.
“He said confessing wouldn’t bring Marianne back. He said it would destroy the family.”
“So instead he paid you.”
“Yes.”
Elena’s voice became quiet.
“And Margarethe?”
“She wanted me gone.”
“Of course.”
“No.”
Thomas looked toward her.
“She wanted me to confess.”
That stopped Elena.
“What?”
“Margarethe and Arthur fought for hours.”
Elena stared.
“Margarethe wanted the truth public?”
“At first.”
Julian exchanged a look with Daniel.
Thomas continued.
“She blamed Arthur. She said hiding it would make everything worse.”
“That doesn’t sound like Margarethe.”
“No,” Daniel said slowly. “But grief changes people.”
Thomas nodded.
“Arthur convinced her Elena would lose everything if there was a criminal investigation.”
Elena frowned.
“Why would I?”
“Because Nathan would have used it in the custody case.”
Elena understood.
“My father.”
“Yes.”
“Margarethe wanted custody.”
“She said she was protecting you.”
Elena laughed bitterly.
“Everyone says that while lying to me.”
Thomas lowered his eyes.
“Arthur paid me to relocate. Years later I couldn’t live with it anymore.”
“The ledger said you confessed.”
“I contacted him eleven years later.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I wanted to go to the police.”
“And?”
“He asked me to meet him first.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Thomas looked toward Daniel.
“Arthur had changed.”
Daniel’s voice softened.
“He was ill by then.”
“Yes.”
Thomas continued.
“He told me he had spent years trying to protect the family and realized all he had protected were lies.”
Elena looked at the trust folder.
“He created the trust.”
“Soon after.”
“Why?”
“Because Margarethe had gained control over almost everything.”
Daniel nodded.
“That matches the dates.”
Thomas looked at Elena.
“Arthur feared if he died suddenly, Margarethe would control you forever.”
Elena almost laughed at the irony.
“He was right.”
“He knew.”
“Then why wait until I was twenty-seven?”
Thomas shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Daniel answered.
“I do.”
Everyone looked at him.
“Twenty-seven was Marianne’s age when she first confronted Arthur about leaving the family companies.”
Elena stared.
“He chose my mother’s age.”
Daniel nodded.
“Arthur believed that by twenty-seven, you would have enough life outside the family to decide for yourself.”
Elena looked down.
For once the decision felt almost loving.
Flawed.
Cowardly.
Too late.
But loving.
Julian opened Arthur’s diary.
“There’s an entry six months before his death.”
He read silently.
Then looked toward Elena.
“What?”
“He wrote about Margarethe.”
Elena held out her hand.
Julian passed her the diary.
The entry was short.
Margarethe believes control is protection. I once believed the same. Marianne paid the price for our arrogance. Elena must not.
Elena reread it twice.
Then another line.
The trust will end Margarethe’s authority at twenty-seven. If she resists, Daniel must reveal everything.
Elena looked at Daniel.
“You knew?”
“Not everything.”
“But you knew there was a contingency.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me on my birthday?”
“Arthur required a triggering event.”
“What event?”
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
“A formal attempt by Margarethe to remove you from the estate, seize designated personal property or legally diminish your capacity.”
Elena touched the broken necklace.
“She triggered it tonight.”
“Yes.”
For a long moment no one spoke.
Then Julian looked at Thomas.
“Why did Margarethe call you tonight?”
Thomas swallowed.
“She wanted help leaving.”
“Leaving where?”
“Canada.”
Elena’s eyes narrowed.
“She planned to run?”
“She was frightened.”
“Of losing the house?”
“No.”
Thomas hesitated.
“Of something else.”
Elena leaned forward.
“What?”
“She said you would find Marianne’s recordings.”
Elena froze.
“What recordings?”
“I don’t know.”
“She specifically said recordings?”
“Yes.”
Julian immediately looked toward Daniel.
“Did Arthur mention recordings?”
Daniel shook his head.
Elena stood.
“Margarethe knows.”
They returned to the drawing room where Margarethe sat beneath guard.
The moment Elena entered, her aunt knew.
“You spoke with Thomas.”
“Yes.”
Margarethe looked away.
“Then you have what you wanted.”
“No.”
Elena walked closer.
“I want my mother’s recordings.”
Margarethe’s face changed.
Barely.
But enough.
“Where are they?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Thomas said you were afraid I’d find them.”
“Thomas has spent seventeen years drowning his conscience in alcohol.”
“He remembered enough.”
Margarethe stood.
“You should leave certain things buried.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother was not the saint you have created in your imagination.”
Elena’s voice sharpened.
“I never said she was.”
“You think these recordings will make you love her more?”
“I want the truth.”
“You always say that as if truth is gentle.”
“I don’t need gentle anymore.”
Margarethe stared at her.
Then sighed.
“Your grandfather hid them.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“I genuinely do not know.”
Elena studied her.
Margarethe appeared sincere.
That was almost worse.
“What’s on them?”
Margarethe looked toward the window.
“Marianne began recording conversations after she decided to leave.”
“With whom?”
“Everyone.”
“Why?”
“She believed your grandfather was moving money without authorization.”
Daniel sat forward.
“What?”
Margarethe laughed bitterly.
“You thought our only family secret involved a damaged brake line?”
Elena’s stomach tightened.
Margarethe continued.
“Your mother discovered someone had been draining funds from the Blackwood Foundation for years.”
“How much?”
“Millions.”
“Who?”
Margarethe looked directly at her.
“We never found out.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Believe whatever comforts you.”
Julian spoke.
“If Marianne recorded evidence, the person stealing money may have had another motive to stop her leaving.”
The room went silent.
Elena felt goosebumps rise along her arms.
Until now, Marianne’s death seemed horrifying but accidental.
Arthur ordered the car disabled.
Thomas made a deadly mistake.
But what if that was not the entire story?
“What exactly did Thomas do to the car?” Julian asked.
Margarethe frowned.
“You already know.”
“No. We know he damaged the brake line.”
“Yes.”
“Was that the only problem discovered after the crash?”
Margarethe’s face changed.
Daniel noticed.
“Margarethe.”
She said nothing.
Elena stepped closer.
“What else?”
Margarethe whispered, “The steering.”
Thomas stood.
“What?”
Everyone looked at him.
He appeared genuinely shocked.
Margarethe continued.
“The investigator found scoring around the steering linkage.”
Thomas shook his head violently.
“No.”
“You knew,” Elena said.
“I never touched the steering.”
Margarethe stared at him.
“That is why Father buried the entire report.”
Julian’s expression hardened.
“Someone else tampered with Marianne’s car.”
Thomas whispered, “Someone wanted her dead.”
Elena’s heart pounded.
“And the recordings might tell us who.”
Before anyone could answer, Daniel’s phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Daniel Whitmore.”
Silence.
Then a woman’s voice.
Daniel’s face drained of color.
“Yes.”
He looked at Elena.
“Who is it?” she whispered.
Daniel slowly handed her the phone.
“She asked for you.”
Elena pressed it to her ear.
“Hello?”
A pause.
Then the woman said something that froze every part of Elena’s body.
“My name is Rebecca Vale. Thomas is my father.”
Elena glanced at Thomas.
He looked confused.
Rebecca continued.
“I have something that belonged to your mother.”
Elena’s fingers tightened around the phone.
“What?”
“A cassette tape.”
Elena stopped breathing.
May you like
Rebecca’s next words made Margarethe sink into the nearest chair.
“Marianne recorded it the night she died.”
