Chapter 9: The Night the Founder Died
Chapter 9: The Night the Founder Died
The rain had stopped by the time Marcus returned to Thorne Manor.
Twilight painted the sky in shades of amber and deep violet, while the Crystal Crown chandelier inside the mansion scattered thousands of tiny reflections across the marble foyer.
Everything looked peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Marcus carried Arthur Mercer's wooden case into his father's study and gently placed Richard's crystal hammer beside the hidden ledgers.
The room had begun to feel less like an office and more like an archive of unfinished truths.
On the desk lay three objects that now defined his investigation:
Richard's final video.
Elena's forgotten photograph.
Arthur's letters.
Each pointed toward the same conclusion.
His father's death had never been as simple as everyone believed.
Officially, Richard Thorne had died ten years earlier from a sudden heart attack while working late inside the executive offices of Thorne Industries.
The medical report had been clear.
Natural causes.
No signs of violence.
No evidence of foul play.
The board mourned him.
The city honored him.
Marcus buried his father believing the truth had been painful...
But uncomplicated.
Now he wasn't so sure.
Unable to ignore his growing doubts, Marcus unlocked one final cabinet in Richard's study.
Inside were boxes labeled only by year.
He searched until he found one marked:
Year 10
The year Richard died.
Dust covered the lid.
Marcus lifted it carefully.
Inside rested dozens of folders.
Medical reports.
Insurance documents.
Sympathy letters.
Funeral arrangements.
Everything appeared ordinary.
Until he noticed a small cassette recorder tucked beneath the paperwork.
Its battery compartment had been taped shut.
A faded label read:
Private
Marcus searched through a drawer until he found an old cassette player.
The tape crackled as it began to turn.
For several seconds there was only static.
Then Richard's familiar voice emerged.
Not calm.
Not confident.
Afraid.
"If anyone finds this recording...
it means I ran out of time."
Marcus closed his eyes.
His father's breathing sounded uneven.
As though he had been walking quickly.
A door slammed somewhere in the background.
Richard continued.
"They've started removing documents."
"Someone entered the archive tonight."
Another voice echoed faintly in the distance.
Too distorted to recognize.
Then footsteps.
Richard lowered his voice.
"If I don't make it home..."
The recording briefly cut out.
When it resumed, Richard sounded even more urgent.
"Marcus must never inherit lies."
"Promise me..."
Another loud noise interrupted him.
Glass shattered.
The tape ended abruptly.
Marcus stared at the silent machine.
Glass.
Again.
The next morning he visited the city's historical archives, where every major newspaper and police report had been preserved.
Archivist Helen Morris greeted him once more.
"Back again?"
Marcus smiled faintly.
"I need everything concerning my father's death."
Helen nodded sympathetically.
"I'll bring the files."
An hour later, Marcus sat surrounded by yellowed newspapers.
The headlines praised Richard's generosity and vision.
One small article, however, caught his attention.
It had appeared two days after the funeral.
Its title was almost forgotten.
Security Guard Resigns Following Executive Death
Marcus frowned.
He had never heard about any security guard.
The article mentioned only one name.
Thomas Calloway.
No interview.
No explanation.
Only that he had resigned immediately after Richard's death.
Marcus copied the address listed in the employment records.
Thomas Calloway lived alone in a modest house near the edge of the city.
He answered the door slowly, leaning on a wooden cane.
His hair had turned completely white.
When Marcus introduced himself, the old man's face changed instantly.
"I wondered if this day would come."
Marcus remained silent.
"You remember my father."
Thomas nodded.
"Every day."
They sat on the front porch overlooking a quiet lake.
For several minutes Thomas said nothing.
Finally he asked,
"What have you discovered?"
Marcus answered honestly.
"Enough to know I've been lied to."
Thomas sighed heavily.
"So Richard's messages survived."
"You knew?"
"I helped hide some of them."
Marcus leaned forward.
"I need to know what happened the night he died."
The old man closed his eyes.
His hands trembled slightly.
"I've carried that night for ten years."
"It wasn't supposed to happen."
Thomas stared across the lake as memories returned.
"Richard called me just after nine o'clock."
"He said someone had broken into the executive archive."
"I met him at headquarters."
Marcus listened carefully.
"What happened then?"
Thomas looked down.
"He wasn't alone."
Flashback — Ten Years Earlier
The executive offices of Thorne Industries were nearly empty.
Rain struck the windows.
Richard hurried through the corridors carrying a leather briefcase.
Thomas followed close behind.
"Mr. Thorne..."
"We should call the police."
Richard shook his head.
"I don't know who I can trust."
They entered the archive.
Several filing cabinets stood open.
Documents covered the floor.
Someone had searched the room.
Carefully.
Systematically.
Richard looked toward one empty shelf.
"They took it."
Thomas frowned.
"What?"
"The founding agreement."
A voice echoed from the hallway.
"Looking for something?"
Richard turned sharply.
Standing in the doorway was Harold Benson.
Perfectly calm.
Perfectly dressed.
Holding a folder in one hand.
Marcus's heart pounded as Thomas continued.
"I couldn't hear every word."
Thomas said quietly.
"But I remember the argument."
Richard demanded the documents back.
Harold refused.
Then another person arrived.
Victor Langston.
He looked frightened.
Not angry.
Scared.
Richard pointed toward both men.
"This ends tonight."
Harold smiled.
"No."
"It ends with you."
Thomas swallowed hard.
"I wanted to call for help."
"But Richard told me to stay hidden."
Marcus asked softly,
"Why?"
"He said..."
Thomas's voice cracked.
"...'If they know you saw them... you'll be next.'"
Richard picked up a crystal paperweight from his desk.
Not as a weapon.
As evidence.
Inside the crystal was something folded.
A tiny piece of paper.
Marcus immediately remembered Arthur's explanation.
Hidden messages inside crystal.
Richard had been protecting another secret.
Thomas continued.
"Harold stepped forward."
"He tried to take it."
"Richard wouldn't let go."
The struggle lasted only seconds.
The crystal slipped from Richard's hands.
It struck the marble floor.
And shattered.
Tiny fragments scattered across the office.
Richard suddenly stopped fighting.
He looked at the broken pieces...
And smiled.
Marcus frowned.
"He smiled?"
Thomas nodded.
"I never understood why."
Richard whispered only one sentence.
'Now the truth can finally escape.'
Those were the last words Thomas clearly remembered.
The lights suddenly failed.
Everything went dark.
By the time emergency power returned...
Richard lay unconscious on the floor.
Harold was already calling an ambulance.
Victor stood frozen.
The shattered crystal had disappeared.
Every piece.
Gone.
Marcus sat in stunned silence.
"The official report said my father collapsed from a heart attack."
Thomas nodded.
"That's what everyone believed."
Marcus looked directly at him.
"What do you believe?"
The old man answered without hesitation.
"I believe Richard knew he was dying."
Marcus frowned.
"What?"
Thomas nodded slowly.
"He'd been receiving anonymous threats for months."
"He told me if anyone cornered him..."
"...he would destroy the evidence himself."
Marcus suddenly understood.
The shattered crystal.
It hadn't been an accident.
Richard had broken it deliberately.
"So that's what he meant..."
Marcus whispered.
"'Follow the shattered glass.'"
Thomas smiled sadly.
"Exactly."
"The message wasn't inside one object anymore."
"It was hidden in many."
Before Marcus left, Thomas handed him one final envelope.
"I've kept this for ten years."
"It belongs to you."
Marcus opened it carefully.
Inside was a security access card.
Richard's.
Across the back someone had written:
Basement Level 4
Marcus frowned.
"There isn't a Level Four."
Thomas looked him directly in the eye.
"Officially..."
"No."
As Marcus drove away, his phone vibrated.
It was Hannah.
Her voice shook.
"Marcus..."
"What happened?"
"Lily."
His heart stopped.
"Is she alright?"
"She disappeared."
Marcus slammed the brakes.
"What?"
"We found her."
"Where?"
Hannah whispered,
"In your father's study."
Marcus frowned.
"She wasn't supposed to be there."
"I know."
"But that's not the strange part."
"What is?"
Hannah struggled to steady her breathing.
"When we found her..."
"...she was sitting in Richard's chair."
Marcus's grip tightened around the steering wheel.
"And?"
"She had written something."
Marcus barely managed to speak.
"What did she write?"
Hannah answered quietly.
"She wrote a name."
"One that none of us has ever heard before."
Marcus felt a chill run through his entire body.
"What name?"
There was a long silence.
Then Hannah whispered two words.
"Gabriel Ashford."
May you like
The line went dead.
End of Chapter 9
