PART 12 — The House in the Woods
The fog hung like a thick, gray blanket over the driveway as we parked the car beneath the dense canopy of oak trees. The manor rose from the darkness like an ancient stone monstrum, hidden behind neglected hedges and a rusted iron gate standing slightly ajar.
Julian sat behind the wheel of his black SUV. Beside him sat I, and in the back seat was Lucas. Nobody said a word. The only sound was the soft ticking of the cooling engine.
"It's exactly two o'clock," Lucas said, checking his watch.
I looked at the large manor house. Not a single light was burning. The windows on the first floor were boarded up with wooden planks. It looked like an abandoned ruin, but the flattened tracks in the wet grass on the driveway revealed that cars had driven here recently.
"We stay together," Julian said. He retrieved a heavy flashlight and a small weapon from the glove compartment. He looked at me. "Claire, if anything goes wrong, you run straight back to the car. Understood?"
"I'm not running away anymore," I replied firmly.
We stepped out. The freezing forest air penetrated my coat. We walked noiselessly over the wet gravel toward the manor's imposing oak front door. Engraved on the doorknob was the same symbol: a rose with a black thorn through it.
Julian pushed against the door. It wasn't locked. With a deep, hollow groan, the heavy door swung slowly inward.
The hall was gigantic. A double marble staircase led to the upper floor. Dust and cobwebs hung everywhere, but fresh footprints lay in the dust on the floor. The smell of old books, dampness, and... a faint trace of expensive tobacco filled the space.
My heart skipped a beat. That tobacco. It was the same brand Daniel had smoked for thirty years.
"Do you see that?" Lucas whispered, pointing to the wall at the back of the hall.
Hanging there was a gigantic oil painting. It depicted a group of five people dressed in formal attire from the nineties, standing around a heavy wooden table.
I stepped closer and illuminated it with Julian's flashlight.
My breath caught.
At the head of the table in the painting sat a young Daniel Vance. Beside him stood Arthur. And on the other side of the table... stood a very young Monique Laurent.
But it was the fifth person in the painting that made my blood run cold.
An older man with an aristocratic face, a silver mustache, and a piercing, cold gaze. He wore a gold ring with the White Rose motif on his pinky finger.
"My grandfather..." I whispered, bewildered.
"What?" Lucas called out softly. "Your father?"
"My father... Charles Clair," I stammered. "He died thirty years ago... or so I thought."
"He didn't die," a trembling, familiar voice suddenly echoed from the upper balcony.
We all turned around simultaneously. At the top of the marble staircase stood a woman in a long black cloak.
It was Monique.
Her face was pale and lined with fear. In her hand, she held an old brass key.
"Mother!" Julian called out, half-raising his weapon. "What are you doing here? What is this place?"
Monique walked slowly down the stairs. Each of her footsteps echoed in the immense hall.
"This is where it all began," Monique said in a broken voice. "Claire... your father, Charles Clair, was the founder of the Society. He used the family business to amass wealth for an elite network. Daniel and Arthur were his pupils."
I stared at her, out of my mind with bewilderment. "My father?"
"When your father noticed thirty years ago that the authorities were onto him, he staged his own death," Monique continued. "He left the company to Daniel and Arthur, but set one condition: Daniel had to marry you to keep the Clair family capital within the organization. Your marriage to Daniel... was no accident, Claire. It was planned by your own father."
The world around me seemed to collapse. Thirty years of love. Thirty years of memories. A fairytale constructed on the drafting board of a shadow organization.
"And you?" I asked with suppressed anger. "Who were you?"
"I was the supervisor," Monique said softly. "Appointed by your father to ensure Daniel adhered to the agreement. If Daniel ever tried to leave you or betray the organization, I was to take over. But..." Monique looked at Julian. "...I fell in love with Daniel. And I had a child with him."
"So Daniel didn't lead two lives..." Lucas whispered in shock. "He was a prisoner."
"We were all prisoners," Monique said. "Until Tuesday night. Daniel wanted to destroy the organization by handing all the documents over to the police. That's why Arthur stopped him."
"And who left that card at my house this morning?" I asked sharply.
Monique looked at the black double doors at the back of the hall.
"He did," she whispered. "He's been here the whole time. He waited for Arthur and Daniel to eliminate each other... so he could claim the final portion of the fortune."
The heavy double doors at the back of the hall slowly swung open.
From the darkness of the room behind emerged the slow, dry tapping of a walking stick on the marble.
