Chapter 10 – The Night Edward Died
Chapter 10 – The Night Edward Died
For thirty years, Daniel had remembered his father's death as a tragedy.
A sudden heart attack.
A terrible night.
A moment when the world changed forever.
He remembered the phone call.
His mother's trembling voice.
His sister Emily crying.
The long drive home.
The funeral.
The empty chair at the dinner table.
He remembered standing beside Edward's coffin, believing the worst thing that could happen to a family was losing someone they loved.
Now he understood.
Sometimes the worst thing was discovering that the person you lost had taken the truth with them.
And someone had spent thirty years making sure that truth stayed buried.
Daniel placed the photograph from Adrian Cross on the table.
The image showed his family.
Taken from outside the house.
Someone had been watching them.
But the person who frightened Daniel most was not the unknown photographer.
It was the person standing behind his family in the reflection of the window.
A familiar face.
Someone who had access.
Someone who had been with them during the investigation.
Someone who knew everything.
Mark.
Daniel stared at the photograph.
"No."
Emily looked over his shoulder.
Her face changed.
"Is that..."
Daniel nodded.
"Mark."
The room became silent.
Clara slowly sat down.
"No."
Daniel looked at her.
"You knew him?"
Clara hesitated.
"Yes."
Another secret.
Daniel closed his eyes.
"Of course."
Clara reached for the photograph.
"Daniel, you don't understand."
"Then explain."
She looked at Mark's image.
"Mark was the person Edward trusted most after me."
Daniel felt a sharp pain.
"Then why is he spying on us?"
Nobody answered.
Because they all knew.
The answer would hurt.
They searched for Mark immediately.
But he was gone.
His phone was turned off.
His apartment was empty.
His car was abandoned near the train station.
Only one thing remained.
A handwritten note.
Placed carefully on the kitchen table.
Daniel opened it.
Three words.
"Find the truth."
Nothing else.
Emily became angry.
"He helped us."
Daniel looked at her.
"Did he?"
The question hurt.
Because nobody knew anymore.
That night, Daniel returned to Edward's study.
He needed answers.
Not from people.
From evidence.
He opened the old files again.
This time he looked differently.
Not for who Edward trusted.
For who was missing.
Then he found something.
A calendar.
The final week before Edward died.
Most of it was ordinary.
Meetings.
Appointments.
Notes.
Until one entry.
The night before his death.
Meeting with M.
Daniel stared.
M.
Margaret?
Mark?
Someone else?
He searched through Edward's documents.
Nothing.
But inside the pocket watch was another clue.
A tiny engraving beneath the mechanism.
Something he had missed before.
E.W. - M.W. - 11:45
Daniel felt cold.
M.W.
Margaret Whitaker.
He found Margaret in the kitchen.
She looked exhausted.
Before Daniel spoke, she said:
"You found the engraving."
He stopped.
"You knew?"
She nodded.
"Edward showed it to me."
Daniel sat down.
"Tell me about that night."
Margaret looked toward the window.
And for the first time...
She stopped defending herself.
"Edward knew he was going to die."
Daniel froze.
"What?"
"He knew."
Margaret explained.
On the night before his death, Edward called her to the old Whitaker house.
He had discovered that The Circle had a traitor inside his operation.
Someone who had access to his files.
Someone who knew where the evidence was hidden.
"Who?"
Daniel asked.
Margaret shook her head.
"Edward didn't know."
"That's why he was afraid."
"What happened when you arrived?"
Margaret's eyes filled with tears.
"He gave me the pocket watch."
"Why?"
"Because he knew someone was searching his house."
Daniel listened.
"He told me if anything happened to him, I had to protect the watch."
"Why didn't you give it to me?"
Margaret looked ashamed.
"Because someone threatened me."
"Who?"
Margaret whispered:
"Your mother."
Daniel stopped.
"My mother was dead."
"I know."
Margaret's voice broke.
"That's what made it worse."
Daniel stared.
"What are you saying?"
Margaret reached into a drawer.
She pulled out an old envelope.
Inside was a letter.
Not from Edward.
From Daniel's mother.
The handwriting shook.
The message was short.
Margaret,
If Edward finds out the truth, everything collapses.
I need you to stop him.
Please.
Daniel felt numb.
"She asked you to stop him?"
Margaret nodded.
"But I didn't know what she meant."
"Then what happened?"
Margaret closed her eyes.
"Edward arrived before I left."
The night replayed in her memory.
Edward standing in the study.
The ledger in his hands.
The fear in his eyes.
"He told me he knew."
"Knew what?"
"That someone close to him was involved."
"Then?"
Margaret whispered:
"Then your father collapsed."
Daniel stared.
"From the heart attack?"
Margaret looked away.
"No."
The room went silent.
"What are you saying?"
Margaret's voice barely existed.
"Edward didn't die from a heart attack."
Daniel stood.
"Then how?"
Margaret looked at him.
"He was poisoned."
Everything stopped.
"My father was murdered."
Margaret nodded.
"Yes."
Daniel's hands shook.
Thirty years.
Thirty years believing he lost his father naturally.
Thirty years without justice.
"Who poisoned him?"
Margaret didn't answer.
"Margaret."
She looked at him.
Her eyes filled with guilt.
"I don't know."
"But I know one thing."
Daniel waited.
"The person who killed Edward..."
She swallowed.
"...was standing in that room when he died."
Daniel felt the blood leave his face.
"Who was there?"
Margaret closed her eyes.
And said the words that changed everything.
"Edward."
Daniel frowned.
"What?"
"No."
Margaret corrected herself.
"Not just Edward."
A pause.
"There were three people in that room."
"Edward."
"Me."
"And the person who killed him."
Daniel stared.
"Who?"
Margaret looked toward the doorway.
And whispered:
"Your sister."
At that exact moment, Daniel's phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A familiar voice spoke.
"Daniel."
Mark.
"Don't trust Margaret."
Daniel froze.
Mark continued:
"She just told you the part that makes her look innocent."
The call crackled.
Then:
"Your father wasn't killed by poison."
A pause.
"He was killed by the truth."
The line went dead.
Daniel stood motionless.
Because now he had two stories.
Margaret's.
And Mark's.
May you like
And somewhere between them...
Was the truth about the night Edward Whitaker died.
