Chapter 5 - Margarethe’s Last Desperate Move
Rebecca Vale arrived at Blackwood House just before midnight.
She was thirty-six, with dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail and the wary expression of someone who had rehearsed this moment many times but still feared it.
Thomas stood when she entered.
“Rebecca?”
She ignored him.
Her eyes found Elena.
“Are you Marianne’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
Rebecca held a small padded envelope against her chest.
“My father doesn’t know I have this.”
Thomas looked stunned.
“What is it?”
She finally turned toward him.
“The reason Mom left you.”
Thomas went pale.
Elena glanced between them.
Rebecca explained.
“When I was nineteen, my mother found a box hidden in our garage. It belonged to Dad.”
Thomas whispered, “Rebecca…”
“There were newspaper articles about Marianne’s death. Photographs. Letters from Arthur Blackwood.”
Elena’s stomach tightened.
“And the tape?”
“In the box.”
Thomas shook his head.
“I never saw a tape.”
“I know.”
Rebecca looked toward Elena.
“It wasn’t addressed to him.”
She handed Elena the envelope.
On the front was faded handwriting.
For Nathan. If I cannot reach him.
Elena’s eyes filled with tears.
Her father.
Marianne had intended the recording for Elena’s father.
“Why didn’t your mother send it?”
Rebecca looked ashamed.
“She was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“My father.”
Thomas recoiled.
“I never hurt either of you.”
“No,” Rebecca said. “But you were drinking. You woke up screaming about the Blackwoods. Mom thought if the family found out we had evidence, someone might come after us.”
Margarethe murmured, “She wasn’t wrong.”
Everyone looked at her.
Elena’s voice hardened.
“Do you know what’s on the tape?”
“No.”
“Then stop acting like you do.”
Margarethe looked away.
Blackwood House still possessed an old audio system in the library because Arthur had refused to replace certain technology he considered “perfectly adequate.”
A cassette deck sat inside the cabinet.
Daniel found it.
Julian checked the tape carefully.
Then Elena inserted it.
For several seconds there was only static.
Then a voice.
Marianne.
Elena stopped breathing.
She had forgotten the exact sound.
Not entirely.
Somewhere inside her childhood memories it remained.
Warm.
Light.
A little breathless when excited.
But seventeen years had softened it.
Now suddenly her mother was in the room again.
“If Nathan hears this…”
A pause.
“I hope that means I finally found the courage to leave.”
Elena covered her mouth.
Julian slipped his hand into hers.
Marianne continued.
“I discovered missing transfers from the foundation eight months ago. At first I thought they were accounting errors. They aren’t.”
Paper rustled on the recording.
“The transfers were approved through Father’s office, but he says he didn’t authorize them.”
Daniel frowned.
Marianne listed account numbers.
Dates.
Amounts.
Then came another voice.
Male.
Distant.
Elena could not identify it.
“You shouldn’t be recording this.”
Marianne answered.
“I’m recording because no one believes me.”
The man said, “Destroy what you found.”
“No.”
“You have no idea what you’re involving yourself in.”
“I know someone stole almost eighteen million dollars.”
Daniel inhaled sharply.
Even Margarethe looked surprised.
Marianne continued.
“And I know the authorization code came from inside the house.”
The recording suddenly stopped.
Then resumed.
Different location.
Rain could be heard.
Marianne again.
“This is the last copy. I’m leaving tonight. Nathan thinks Elena and I are meeting him tomorrow, but I’m going earlier because I don’t feel safe.”
Elena’s fingers tightened around Julian’s.
Her mother had been afraid.
Then Marianne said the sentence none of them expected.
“Margarethe tried to help me.”
Elena turned sharply toward her aunt.
Margarethe closed her eyes.
On the tape, Marianne continued.
“She gave me cash and told me not to use any Blackwood account. She said Father was desperate and might try to stop me.”
Elena stared.
All evening she had believed Margarethe helped imprison her mother.
Now Marianne’s own voice complicated everything.
Margarethe whispered, “I told you relationships are not simple.”
The recording continued.
“I don’t trust Father anymore. But I’m also afraid Margarethe knows more about the missing money than she admits.”
Margarethe opened her eyes.
Elena saw pain.
Marianne’s voice became quieter.
“If anything happens to me, Nathan needs to find the red account book.”
The tape clicked.
Silence.
That was all.
Daniel immediately spoke.
“What red account book?”
Margarethe shook her head.
“I never saw it.”
Thomas looked confused.
Neither had he.
Julian replayed the final sentence.
Find the red account book.
Elena remembered something.
A childhood memory.
Her mother sitting beside a window.
A red leather notebook in her lap.
Elena had wanted to draw in it.
Marianne had smiled and said, “Not this one, sweetheart. This book is for grown-up numbers.”
Elena stood.
“I’ve seen it.”
Everyone looked at her.
“Where?” Julian asked.
“I don’t know.”
She closed her eyes.
Think.
The room.
Sunlight.
Flowers outside.
Her mother.
A window seat.
Then Elena remembered.
“The greenhouse.”
Blackwood House had an old glass greenhouse beyond the west garden.
Marianne had used it as a painting studio.
Margarethe stood abruptly.
“No.”
Elena looked at her.
“What?”
“The greenhouse was renovated after Marianne died.”
“So?”
“Everything was removed.”
“By whom?”
Margarethe didn’t answer.
Daniel understood first.
“You.”
Margarethe walked toward the door.
Security blocked her.
“I had the room cleared.”
“Where did the contents go?” Elena asked.
“Storage.”
“Which storage?”
Margarethe remained silent.
Elena stepped closer.
“Aunt Margarethe.”
The title sounded strange now.
“Where?”
Margarethe looked at her.
Then something changed.
She appeared suddenly older.
Tired.
“Basement archive.”
Elena turned toward Julian.
“Let’s go.”
Margarethe grabbed her wrist.
“Elena.”
Julian immediately moved.
Margarethe released her.
“What?”
“If that ledger still exists, you need to understand something.”
“What?”
“Your mother suspected me.”
“I heard.”
“She was wrong.”
“Then you shouldn’t be afraid.”
Margarethe laughed bitterly.
“You still don’t understand power.”
Elena stared at her.
Margarethe lowered her voice.
“If someone stole eighteen million dollars from your grandfather while living under this roof, they were not afraid of him.”
Elena felt a chill.
“And?”
“They certainly won’t be afraid of you.”
The basement archive was colder than the rest of the house.
Metal shelving filled three rooms.
Boxes stretched from floor to ceiling.
Marianne’s belongings were listed under inventory numbers.
It took forty minutes to locate the greenhouse collection.
Elena opened the first box.
Paintbrushes.
Canvases.
Old gardening gloves.
The second contained books.
The third held framed photographs.
No ledger.
Julian opened another.
Nothing.
Then Rebecca noticed something.
“This box is lighter.”
The label said M. BLACKWOOD — PERSONAL PAPERS.
It was empty.
Daniel frowned.
“The inventory sheet says fourteen pounds.”
Elena looked toward the doorway.
“Someone removed the contents.”
Julian examined the dust.
“Recently.”
A clean rectangular mark appeared on the shelf.
Something had been sitting there until tonight.
Elena’s pulse quickened.
“Margarethe.”
They rushed upstairs.
The drawing room was empty.
The security officer assigned to Margarethe stood near an open French door.
His face was panicked.
“She said she needed air.”
Julian stared at him.
“You let her outside?”
“She stayed on the terrace.”
“Where is she?”
The officer pointed toward the darkness.
“She ran.”
Elena looked toward the driveway.
A car engine roared.
Headlights appeared beyond the trees.
Margarethe had escaped again.
But this time she carried something.
Elena saw red leather beneath her arm as she climbed into the passenger side.
“The ledger.”
Julian ran toward his car.
“I’m going after her.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Julian.”
“Elena, whoever is driving that car may be connected to your mother’s death.”
“That’s exactly why I’m coming.”
Before he could argue, another vehicle appeared at the gate.
It blocked Margarethe’s route.
Brakes screamed.
Margarethe’s driver swerved.
The car struck a stone planter and stopped.
Security rushed forward.
Julian and Elena followed.
The driver jumped out and fled into the trees.
Margarethe remained inside.
She clutched the red ledger.
Elena opened the passenger door.
“Give it to me.”
Margarethe looked terrified.
Not of Elena.
Of the woods.
“He came back.”
“Who?”
“The driver.”
“Who was he?”
Margarethe shook her head.
“I thought he was dead.”
Elena’s pulse raced.
“Who?”
Margarethe whispered a name.
“Charles Mercer.”
Julian stopped behind Elena.
His entire body went rigid.
Elena turned.
“Mercer?”
Julian said nothing.
Margarethe stared at him.
“Yes.”
Then she laughed with disbelief.
“You really never told her?”
Elena looked from Margarethe to Julian.
“Told me what?”
Julian’s face had gone pale.
Margarethe held the red ledger tighter.
“Charles Mercer is Julian’s father.”
The night suddenly became silent.
Elena stared at the man she loved.
May you like
And for the first time since Julian entered Blackwood House, she wondered whether he had come to save her—
or whether he had been connected to the Blackwoods long before they ever met.
