Chapter 17: The Second Deed
Margaret Ellis was placed under protective supervision before sunset.
She was furious about it.
“I have spent forty years protecting legal documents,” she told Marcus.
“I don't need armed officers standing outside my office.””
“Someone just paid to have you threatened,” Marcus replied.
“Until we know who, you're not going anywhere alone.””
Margaret crossed her arms.
“Then at least tell me whether you've found the second deed.””
“Not yet.””
She looked at me.
“Your grandfather would be disappointed.””
I almost laughed.
“He'd probably tell us to stop arguing and find it.””
For the first time that day, Margaret smiled.
Then she became serious again.
“The second deed is more important than the first. It protects the property from being divided or transferred through separate transactions.””
“Could Daniel have acquired the access rights without owning the land?”” I asked.
“Yes. And if someone controlled those rights, they could make the main property nearly useless.””
Marcus looked at Natalie.
“Could Northbridge have done that?””
“We're tracing the relevant companies,” she replied.
“But we found something else.””
She placed a printed company registration on the desk.
A company called Eastgate Infrastructure had been incorporated six months before the first fraudulent transfer attempt.
Its listed director was a retired accountant.
Its registered address was a mailbox.
Its financial records showed payments from Northbridge Consulting.
“Who owns Eastgate?”” Marcus asked.
“The ownership structure is hidden behind two corporate layers.””
“Can you identify the beneficial owner?””
“We're working on it.””
Margaret leaned forward.
“Eastgate was the name Robert used when he first contacted me about the property.””
I looked at her.
“You remember that?””
“Very clearly. He said it was a development partner.””
“Did he mention Daniel?””
“No. He said the company represented the interests of your family.””
Marcus made a note.
“Do you have any correspondence?””
Margaret nodded.
“I kept everything.””
She retrieved another folder.
Inside were copies of emails, letters, and a handwritten list of appointments.
One entry was dated four years earlier.
*Meeting with R. Hayes and A. Whitmore — Eastgate transfer structure.*
I stared at the words.
“They were both involved.””
Margaret nodded.
“And there was another name.””
She pointed to the next line.
*Legal review — Victor Lang.*
Daniel's attorney.
I felt a chill.
“Victor knew about the transfer?””
“I cannot say what he knew. But he attended the meeting.””
Marcus looked at Natalie.
“Find out whether Lang represented Eastgate or Daniel at that time.””
Natalie nodded.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Dad.
*We found the metal box.*
I immediately called him.
“Where is it?””
“In the basement, behind the old furnace cabinet.””
“Have you opened it?””
“No. There's a lock.””
“Don't touch it. The investigators are coming.””
Dad lowered his voice.
“Claire, there's something else.””
“What?””
“The box has your grandfather's initials on it.””
I glanced at Marcus.
“Does it have anything written beneath them?””
“Yes.””
Dad paused.
“Two names.””
“Which names?””
“Claire and Emma.””
I closed my eyes.
The box had been made for us.
Not Daniel.
Not Robert.
Us.
The search team reached my parents' house twenty minutes later. They photographed the box, documented its location, and opened it using the proper evidence procedures.
Inside were several envelopes, a small notebook, and a sealed packet wrapped in oilcloth.
The investigators photographed every item before removing anything.
Natalie called as soon as the contents had been examined.
“We found the second deed.””
I sat forward.
“Is it authentic?””
“It appears consistent with the original trust records. We'll need formal verification.””
“What does it say?””
“Your grandfather retained the access rights in a separate trust. Both you and Emma are named as beneficiaries.””
“And who controls it?””
“Your father remains the trustee while he's alive and legally capable.””
I looked at Marcus.
“So Daniel couldn't take it without Dad's authorization.””
“Correct,” Natalie said.
“But there's a problem.””
“What?””
“The document contains a later notation indicating that a transfer was requested.””
“When?””
“Four years ago.””
“Who requested it?””
Natalie hesitated.
“The request was submitted under your father's name.””
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Was it approved?””
“No. The transfer was rejected.””
“Why?””
“Because the signatures of both beneficiaries were required.””
I remembered the forged declaration bearing my name.
“Did they submit our signatures?””
“Yes.””
I looked at Marcus.
“They tried to use the signatures Daniel collected from us.””
Natalie continued.
“The request also included copies of your birth certificates and a medical declaration.””
“What medical declaration?””
“A statement claiming that both beneficiaries were unable to make independent financial decisions.””
I felt sick.
“Who signed it?””
Natalie read the name.
“Dr. Samuel Price.””
I didn't recognize it.
Marcus did.
He went still.
“Price was a consultant for the department's employee wellness program.””
I looked at him.
“Was he connected to Robert?””
“I'm checking.””
Natalie added:
“We found an invoice from Northbridge Consulting to a medical services company. The payment was made three days before the declaration was submitted.””
I pressed my fingers against my forehead.
They had tried to make us appear incapable of managing our own inheritance.
And if they had succeeded, Robert could have taken control.
“What happened to the original request?”” Marcus asked.
“It was rejected and placed in the trust archive.””
“Can we identify who collected the rejection notice?””
Natalie paused.
“Yes.””
“Who?””
“Victor Lang.””
I looked at Marcus.
Daniel's attorney had been present at the original meeting, had collected the rejection notice, and was now representing Daniel.
The pieces were beginning to fit.
But there was still something missing.
The notebook from the metal box.
Natalie opened it carefully.
Most of the pages contained dates and handwritten instructions from my grandfather.
One page had been marked with a red ribbon.
It contained a short paragraph.
*If the two girls are ever separated from one another, the second deed must remain untouched. Neither beneficiary should be permitted to sign independently under pressure. The original access rights belong to them together.*
I read it twice.
Then I noticed another line.
*If Daniel Mercer ever asks about this document, contact the person named below.*
Beneath the sentence was a telephone number.
And a name.
*Evelyn Shaw.*
Margaret recognized it immediately.
“Evelyn was your grandfather's private investigator.””
“Is she still alive?”” Marcus asked.
“I believe so.””
Natalie searched the name.
Then her expression changed.
“She died six months ago.””
I stared at the notebook.
“Did she leave any records?””
Natalie checked.
“Her estate was transferred to a family member.””
“Who?””
She looked up.
“Her son. Peter Shaw.””
Marcus requested contact information.
Before he could make the call, my phone rang again.
Emma.
I answered.
“Are you okay?””
“I'm fine. But Claire, I remember something.””
“What?””
“Daniel told me that the original deed wasn't the only thing Grandpa left us.””
I sat upright.
“What else?””
“A recording.””
“What recording?””
“He said your grandfather had made a recording explaining why he separated the two deeds.””
My heart began pounding.
“Where did Daniel say it was?””
“He didn't know. He said Evelyn Shaw had taken it.””
I looked at Marcus.
He was already searching the name.
Then Emma whispered:
“Claire, I think Daniel found it.””
“How do you know?””
“Because the last time I saw him before the assault, he told someone on the phone that the old man had left a voice behind.””
I felt cold.
“Who was he speaking to?””
May you like
Emma swallowed.
“Robert.””
