Chapter 5 - THE KEY IN THE CLASP
Margaret finally told them about Thomas Vance.
Andrew’s father had died seven years earlier.
Publicly, he was remembered as the man who saved Vance Hospitality after the recession.
Privately, Margaret said, he had been terrified during his final year.
“Of what?” Andrew asked.
“Sterling Capital.”
Brenda’s expression changed.
“My father?”
Margaret looked at her.
“Your father and Thomas were partners.”
Everyone knew that.
Sterling Capital had financed Vance hotels for decades.
Margaret continued.
“Twenty years ago, they created an investment fund.”
“What happened?”
“It collapsed.”
Brenda said, “My father lost millions.”
Margaret looked at her.
“So did other people.”
“How much?”
“Almost sixty million.”
Andrew stared.
“I’ve never heard about this.”
“It was settled privately.”
Mariana asked, “And the bank box?”
“Thomas kept records.”
“Of the fund?”
“Yes.”
Brenda folded her arms.
“My father never mentioned a box.”
Margaret replied, “Perhaps Thomas did not trust him.”
Brenda’s jaw tightened.
Mariana asked, “Who knew the key was inside the necklace?”
“Thomas. Me.”
“Anyone else?”
Margaret hesitated.
“Possibly the jeweler.”
Andrew looked at Brenda.
She laughed.
“You think I stole a necklace containing a key I didn’t know existed?”
Mariana said, “You did search my room.”
“For financial documents.”
“Why my room?”
“Because you keep confidential files there.”
“How did you know?”
Brenda smiled faintly.
“Andrew told me.”
Mariana turned toward him.
Andrew looked ashamed.
Again.
“How much have you been telling her?”
“Business things.”
“She isn’t your wife.”
“No.”
Brenda said, “And being his wife apparently didn’t stop you from hiding $8.4 million.”
Mariana ignored her.
The police arrived.
Detective Lena Brooks took statements.
She watched the hidden-camera footage.
“Ms. Sterling enters the room but does not approach the safe.”
Brenda nodded.
Brooks asked, “Who knew the safe code?”
Mariana answered.
“Only me.”
Andrew said, “I knew an older code.”
Mariana looked at him.
“You did?”
“You used our anniversary for years.”
“I changed it.”
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
Brenda asked, “To what?”
Mariana looked at her.
“Nice try.”
Detective Brooks examined the emerald.
Then she looked at Margaret.
“We need the necklace’s appraisal records.”
Margaret provided them.
The jeweler was Elias Monroe.
Still alive.
Still working.
Brooks called him.
No answer.
They drove to his shop.
The front door was unlocked.
Inside, display cases were untouched.
No robbery.
Elias Monroe lay unconscious behind the counter.
Beside him was a photograph of Margaret’s necklace.
The clasp had been circled in red.
May you like
And beneath it someone had written:
BOX 317.
