Chapter 8 - THE FIRE AT THE OLD HOUSE
The old Kane house stood on a wooded property outside the city. It had
been closed for years, its windows boarded and its gardens overgrown.
Roman remembered it as the place where his parents had lived before the
business expanded and the family moved to the mansion.
His father had kept a private archive in the basement.
The archive contained original deeds, foundation records, medical files,
and correspondence that had never been digitized. If Silas reached it
first, he could destroy the evidence that linked him to the fraudulent
transfers.
Roman drove toward the property with Reeves, Eleanor, Marcus, and a
small team of independent security officers. Elizabeth remained at the
protected residence. Lily insisted on coming, but Roman asked her to
stay with Margaret and the others.
“I’m not made of glass,” she said.
“I know.”
“Then don’t treat me like I am.”
He looked at her. “I need you to keep the others safe. If Silas has been
watching the estate, I don’t want him to know where everyone is.”
Lily considered this, then nodded. “Call me when you know something.”
At the old house, the gate stood open.
A thin line of smoke rose from the roof.
Reeves ordered everyone to stop. They could hear a crackling sound from
inside. The fire department was already on its way, but the flames were
spreading through the rear wing.
Roman started toward the entrance.
Marcus grabbed his arm. “Don’t.”
“My father’s records are inside.”
“And you will die trying to save paper.”
Roman pulled free. “Those records are the only proof we have.”
Reeves pointed toward the side of the building. “There may be a basement
entrance. We go around, check the structure, and do not enter unless the
fire commander clears it.”
The team moved along the exterior wall. A rear door was unlocked.
Inside, smoke drifted through a narrow corridor. The basement stairwell
was still accessible, but the ceiling above it had begun to crack.
Roman saw the archive room at the bottom.
The metal cabinets were intact.
He took one step down.
Reeves caught his shoulder. “Wait.”
A figure emerged from behind the cabinets.
Silas Mercer.
He held a small metal case in one hand and a phone in the other. His
suit was covered in ash.
“Roman,” he said, almost politely. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Roman stared at him. “You set the fire.”
“I came to secure the records.”
“You came to destroy them.”
Silas looked at the flames reflected in the glass cabinets. “Some things
should never have been preserved.”
Marcus stepped forward. “You told me the archive was empty.”
“It was supposed to be.”
Reeves raised his hand. “Put the case down.”
Silas smiled. “You have no idea what is in it.”
“Then put it down and let us find out.”
Silas looked at Roman. “Your father was a weak man by the end. He let
your mother fill his head with accusations. He was going to hand the
foundation to investigators and leave the family with nothing.”
“He was going to stop you stealing from it.”
“I was keeping the family solvent.”
“You were paying people to erase lives.”
Silas’s expression hardened. “You think the world is clean? Your father
built this family with money and fear. I simply made sure it survived.”
Roman took another step.
Silas lifted the case. “Do not.”
A section of ceiling collapsed behind him. Dust and sparks filled the
room. Reeves ordered everyone back. Roman saw that the metal case had
fallen open, scattering several documents across the floor.
One page showed a list of payments to a physician. Another contained the
name of Roman’s father and a series of medication doses.
Roman lunged for the papers.
Silas grabbed his coat.
Marcus struck Silas’s arm, and the case fell. Reeves pulled Roman away
as the ceiling cracked again. The team retreated up the stairs, carrying
the documents they could reach.
Outside, firefighters arrived and began containing the blaze. Silas was
detained at the scene. He did not resist. He simply watched the old
house burn.
When the fire was under control, the archive room was heavily damaged,
but several metal cabinets had survived. The documents Roman and Marcus
had recovered were enough to support a warrant for Silas’s arrest.
The physician’s name on the payment list belonged to Dr. Peter Caldwell,
the doctor who had treated Roman’s father during his final illness. The
payment records showed regular transfers from a shell company controlled
by Silas.
Eleanor reviewed the recovered medication chart.
“These doses don’t match the prescriptions in the hospital file,” she
said.
“Could that have caused the stroke?” Roman asked.
“We need medical experts to answer that. But it is evidence of possible
deliberate medication tampering.”
Silas was taken into custody for questioning. He requested an attorney
and refused to answer further questions.
Marcus sat on the hood of the car, staring at the burning roof.
“I helped him,” he said.
Roman stood beside him. “You helped him hide the truth. That matters.
But you also helped us find it.”
“I should have gone to the police.”
“Yes.”
“I should have checked the letters.”
“Yes.”
Marcus nodded. He did not ask to be forgiven.
Roman’s phone rang. Lily.
“Are you alive?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Is the house still standing?”
“Part of it.”
“Did you find anything?”
He looked at the recovered papers. “Enough to keep looking.”
“Then come home.”
Roman glanced at the smoke rising into the evening sky.
For the first time, the word home did not mean the mansion, the
business, or the old house.
It meant the people waiting for him to return.
When he arrived, Lily was in the kitchen with Margaret, Helen, and
Walter. Arthur sat at the table, his hands wrapped around a mug. No one
asked whether the fire had been frightening. They could see it in
Roman’s face.
Lily placed a plate in front of him.
“Eat first,” she said. “Then tell us.”
He sat.
The food was simple soup and fresh bread, the same kind of meal she had
been carrying to the motel.
Roman took a bite and realized how hungry he was.
Then Lily placed a small envelope beside his bowl.
“Someone left this at the service gate.”
The handwriting on the front was his mother’s.
Inside was a note.
“Roman, Silas is not the only person who knows what happened to your
father. Ask Marcus who signed the final medical authorization.”
Roman looked up.
Marcus had gone pale.
The fire had not ended the secrets.
It had uncovered a new one.
Fire investigators arrived before sunrise. They found traces of an
accelerant near the rear archive entrance and confirmed that the alarm
system had been disabled from inside the building. The fire was not an
accident.
Silas’s fingerprints were found on the metal case, but the case itself
had not contained the only copy of the records. Eleanor believed the
recovered pages could be matched against the independent bank archive
once the account was located.
Roman asked whether Silas could be charged immediately.
“The prosecutor will decide,” Reeves said. “We have enough to seek
additional warrants. We do not yet have every link.”
Roman hated the answer, but he respected it.
At the estate, Lily had organized a quiet place for the former staff to
stay while the security team reviewed the property. Margaret and Helen
shared a guest suite. Walter had a room near the elevator. Arthur chose
a small apartment above the garage because he said he wanted to hear the
kitchen wake up in the morning.
Roman offered to move everyone to the furnished apartments near the
hospital, but Arthur declined.
“I spent thirty-four years in this house,” he said. “I don’t need to
live in the grand rooms. I just want to know I can come through the gate
without someone telling me I don’t belong.”
Roman promised that no one would turn him away.
Later, Marcus explained the medical authorization in greater detail. He
had signed it after Silas told him that Roman’s father was being
transferred to a specialist clinic for a short period. The form had been
prepared in advance. Marcus had not spoken directly with the physician.
“Did you read the entire document?” Roman asked.
“I read the first page. The second was attached behind the consent
sheet.”
“You signed every page?”
“No. Only the release.”
Eleanor pointed out that the clinic’s billing records showed a second
authorization had been added after the transfer. The signature on that
document was not Marcus’s. It appeared to be a scanned copy of his
original signature.
“That means someone used your signature after the fact,” she said.
Marcus looked sick. “I gave them the first one. I made it possible.”
“You gave them a legitimate release,” Eleanor replied. “They may have
used it to justify something you never approved. Both facts matter.”
Roman asked the investigator to compare the two forms. If the second had
been forged, it could establish that the clinic had deliberately
expanded its authority.
That afternoon, Elizabeth called from the protected residence. She had
found an old envelope among her personal papers. Inside was a pharmacy
receipt with the name of the doctor who had first warned her about the
medication changes. The doctor had retired to Michigan.
Roman arranged for Eleanor to contact him.
The case was becoming more complicated, but each recovered record made
the story less dependent on memory. That mattered to Roman. Memories
could be doubted. Documents could be tested, compared, and
authenticated.
He looked at the old house’s fire-damaged photograph on his desk.
May you like
Silas had tried to burn the past.
Instead, he had made sure that everyone finally looked at it.
