Chapter 10 - The Envelope with Four Names
Dana photographed the sealed envelope from every angle before anyone touched it.
"The wax hasn't been broken."
Marcus nodded.
"Neither has the paper."
One detective carefully read the writing beneath the seal.
There weren't just four words.
There were four names.
Samuel Whitmore.
Rebecca Lawson.
Daniel Whitmore.
Eleanor Whitmore.
Victor frowned.
"My name isn't there."
"No," Eleanor replied quietly.
"It never was."
Marcus studied Victor's reaction.
Rather than appearing hurt or surprised, Victor seemed... relieved.
As though he had expected exactly that.
The detective noticed it too.
"You knew this envelope existed."
Victor said nothing.
Instead, he watched every movement Marcus made.
Every inch the envelope shifted.
Every photograph taken.
Every evidence bag sealed.
It was obvious he feared losing access to whatever remained inside.
Dana looked toward Eleanor.
"Did Daniel ever tell you why these four names were chosen?"
Eleanor searched her memory.
"He said..."
She hesitated.
"...that each of us held one part of the truth."
Marcus frowned.
"What did he mean?"
"I don't know."
"You were his wife."
"He protected me by telling me less."
Marcus understood.
Sometimes ignorance was the safest place to hide someone.
The communications officer returned carrying another archive folder.
"We found something else."
Dana accepted it.
"What is it?"
"Maintenance records."
"For what?"
"The storage facility shown on Daniel's map."
Marcus unfolded the map beside the maintenance documents.
Every loading bay matched.
Every hallway matched.
Even the emergency exits matched.
Except for one difference.
Daniel's map showed an additional room.
The official blueprint did not.
A room that technically didn't exist.
The detective traced it with his finger.
"A hidden vault?"
The communications officer slowly shook his head.
"No."
"What then?"
He pointed toward an old engineering notation in the margin.
"It wasn't built as a vault."
Everyone leaned closer.
"So what was it?"
The officer answered quietly.
"It was originally constructed as a secure evidence archive."
Marcus immediately looked at the notebook again.
Do Not Trust Vault.
The sentence suddenly made perfect sense.
Daniel hadn't been warning them about a bank vault.
He had been warning them about the airport's evidence archive itself.
Before anyone could process the implication, Marcus's phone vibrated.
The caller ID displayed only four words.
Unknown Internal Airport Line.
He answered.
No one spoke for several seconds.
May you like
Then an elderly male voice whispered only one sentence before the line went dead.
"They know the suitcase is open... and they're already inside the airport."
