Chapter 6 - THE SECURITY MAN
The security control room was empty except for two monitors and a half-finished cup of coffee.
Harold Crane's access card lay on the desk.
Frank checked the logs.
“He used the west service door at 12:17.”
“Vehicle?”
“His personal car is still in the lot.”
“Then he left on foot.”
I looked at the screens.
“Show me the west corridor.”
Frank brought up the recording. Crane walked through the service door carrying a small black bag. He paused beside the gate camera, looked directly at it, then held up two fingers.
A signal.
Someone outside the estate answered with a flash of headlights.
The vehicle pulled away.
“Can we identify it?”
“Not from this angle.”
“Get the road cameras.”
Frank called the state police. I called the head of the private security contractor and ordered every record related to Crane preserved. The contractor promised cooperation, then asked whether the matter could be handled discreetly.
I nearly threw the phone across the room.
“My son was almost murdered. There is no discreet version of this.”
Within twenty minutes, police officers arrived at the estate. They interviewed Margaret, the catering manager, and the remaining household staff. Lily's statement was taken by a child specialist with Sophia present. No one asked her to repeat the story more than once.
I was grateful for that.
At three in the afternoon, the police found Crane's car abandoned near a train station. The black bag was gone. His apartment had been emptied. A neighbor reported seeing him leave with a woman the previous evening.
The woman was Rebecca Shaw.
Naomi placed their employment records side by side.
“They both worked under Malcolm's authority,” she said. “Crane was hired through the security contractor. Rebecca was hired through the executive office. Neither had a direct reporting relationship, but both received payments from the same consulting company.”
“Which company?”
“Northbridge Advisory.”
I recognized the name. It had been paid for risk analysis and security consulting on several of my properties.
“Who owns it?”
“An investment trust in the Cayman Islands. The trustee is a law firm Anthony uses.”
I leaned back.
“Anthony and Malcolm.”
“Possibly coordinating. We need the financial records.”
“Get them.”
Naomi closed the folder.
“Dominic, the police want you to give a formal statement. They also want to know whether you have any reason to believe Anthony would target Ethan.”
I looked through the glass wall toward the garden, where Ethan was sitting with Lily and Sophia. They were building a tower from wooden blocks. Lily had placed a yellow block at the top and was explaining that it was the roof.
“I have reasons to believe someone wanted to harm him,” I said. “I don't know who gave the final order.”
“That is the right answer.”
I gave the statement.
I told the detectives about the watch, the footage, the supplier change, and the messages. I told them about Anthony's strange call to Isabella and the fact that he had left the estate before security could question him. I did not hide the fact that he was my brother-in-law.
One detective asked whether I had business disputes with him.
“Several,” I replied. “But none that would justify this.”
“What kind of disputes?”
“Anthony wanted a larger stake in the family investment company. I refused. He wanted control over a hotel acquisition. I refused that too.”
“Was he angry?”
“He was disappointed.”
The detective wrote something down.
“Did he threaten you?”
“Not directly.”
“Did he threaten your son?”
“No.”
The detective looked up.
“Then why would he do this?”
I thought of the gold watch. The duplicate. The silver container. The supplier. The hidden camera override.
“Because he believed my son was the one thing I could not risk losing.”
The detective said nothing.
After the interview, I returned to Ethan's room. He was awake and watching a cartoon. He looked up when I entered.
“Dad, Lily says she can stay for cake tomorrow.”
I sat on the edge of the bed.
“She's right.”
“Can we have a big one?”
“We can have whatever you want.”
“Chocolate?”
I hesitated. His allergy was complicated, and the doctor had approved a limited list of ingredients. I did not want him to think every ordinary thing had become dangerous.
“We'll ask Dr. Harris to help us choose.”
Ethan sighed dramatically.
“Doctors always decide.”
I laughed. “They do have a lot of opinions.”
He turned back to the television.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Are you mad at Lily?”
“No.”
“Are you mad at the man?”
I looked at him.
“Yes.”
“Because he touched my cake?”
“Because he tried to hurt you.”
Ethan was quiet for a moment.
“Can you tell him to stop?”
“I will.”
That evening, Frank brought me a new piece of information.
The vehicle that had picked up Crane was registered to a company owned by Anthony Vale. It had been seen entering a private airfield in New Jersey.
“Do we know where it went?” I asked.
“Not yet. The aircraft's transponder was switched off after takeoff.”
“Can the flight plan be recovered?”
“The police are working on it.”
I looked at the map.
“Anthony may be on that plane.”
“Possibly.”
“Where would he go?”
“His family has a property in the Bahamas. He also has an office in London.”
“Check both.”
Frank nodded.
Then he added, “There is another concern. The medical file that described Ethan's allergy was accessed six weeks ago.”
“By whom?”
“The system shows a credential belonging to the estate's medical coordinator. But the coordinator says she never logged in.”
“Could the account have been copied?”
“Yes.”
“Who had access to the credential?”
“Malcolm, the security office, and the medical coordinator.”
I stared at the screen.
“Malcolm knew.”
“That's what the record suggests.”
“Where is he?”
“We still don't know.”
My phone buzzed. A number with no caller ID.
I answered.
“Dominic Moretti,” a man's voice said.
I knew the voice.
Anthony.
“Where are you?”
“Somewhere you can't reach me.”
“Come back and face this.”
He laughed quietly.
“You still think this is about you.”
“It's about my son.”
“Exactly.”
I felt my grip tighten around the phone.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to understand that the world you built is not yours alone. You made promises to people, Dominic. You took everything and called it protection.”
“If you have a grievance with me, come after me.”
“I did.”
The line went silent for a beat.
Then Anthony said, “You just didn't notice.”
The call ended.
Frank was already tracing it.
I stood very still.
A moment later, a text arrived with a photograph.
It showed Ethan sleeping in the secure residence.
The picture had been taken from inside the building.
Beneath it were six words:
You can't guard every door, Dominic.
The photograph changed every rule we had put in place. The secure residence had been chosen because it was separate from my business, but we had failed to account for a person with legitimate access. A copied credential had turned an ordinary maintenance visit into an open door.
Frank ordered a full sweep of the building. Every room was checked, every access card disabled, and every electronic device removed for examination. The police brought in a digital forensics team to preserve the network logs. The staff were interviewed separately, and no one was allowed to use a personal device until the initial review was complete.
I hated the atmosphere. The residence had been meant to feel safe and ordinary for Ethan. Now it felt like another locked building.
Dr. Harris advised me to let Ethan return to a familiar routine as soon as possible. He said the greatest danger now was allowing the adults' fear to become the child's entire world.
So I took Ethan and Lily into the garden under supervision. They played with a ball while Sophia sat on a bench. I stayed close enough to hear them but far enough away to let them pretend the afternoon was normal.
Ethan kicked the ball too hard and it rolled beneath a hedge. Lily crawled after it and came back with a leaf stuck to her sleeve.
“It's a treasure,” she announced.
Ethan laughed.
I watched them for a long time.
Then Frank called me aside. He had found the second access card in a locked cabinet behind the medical station. It had been logged out under Malcolm's name, but the return signature was missing.
The card was not lost.
Someone had kept it.
The police asked whether I wanted the staff questioned again. I told them to speak with anyone who had used the medical corridor, but not to conduct interviews in front of the children. I also requested that the residence's cleaning crew be paid for the extra shifts and given time off after the lockdown. They had been working under emergency conditions without knowing why.
Frank seemed surprised when I brought it up.
“They're part of the operation,” I said. “They deserve to be treated like people, not furniture.”
May you like
He nodded slowly. “I'll arrange it.”
It was a small thing, but I wanted the people protecting Ethan to know that their work mattered. Fear could keep a door closed. It could not build a team worth trusting.
