Chapter 8: Cabinet Seventeen
The ambulance arrived twenty minutes later.
Margaret refused to let go of my hand until the paramedics had placed her on a stretcher.
"Promise me something," she whispered.
"What?""
"Don't destroy the records. Whatever you find, preserve everything.""
I nodded.
"I promise.""
She squeezed my fingers.
"Your father believed the truth would eventually find its way home.""
Then the paramedics carried her outside.
I stood in the doorway, watching the ambulance disappear down the gravel road.
Naomi approached quietly.
"She's going to be okay.""
I nodded.
But my attention was on Eleanor.
She stood beside the overturned kitchen chair, holding her handbag tightly.
"Why did Margaret accuse you?"" I asked.
Eleanor looked exhausted.
"Because she believes I betrayed your father.""
"Did you?""
"No.""
"Then tell me why she thinks you did.""
She took a slow breath.
"Your father called me that night. He said he had discovered the identity of the person who altered the ownership agreement. He wanted me to meet him at the warehouse.""
"Did you?""
"Yes.""
"When?""
"About nine in the evening.""
I looked at my watch.
"His accident happened later that night?""
"Yes.""
"What happened at the warehouse?""
Eleanor lowered her eyes.
"We argued.""
"About the person who altered the documents?""
She nodded.
"Daniel believed I had known about the forged agreement for months. I told him I had only recently discovered it.""
"Did he believe you?""
"No.""
I waited.
Eleanor continued.
"He told me he had evidence proving someone inside the company had arranged the transfer. He said he would take it to the authorities the next morning.""
"And then?""
"I left.""
"Did he?""
She looked at me.
"I don't know.""
I stared at her.
"You're telling me you were the last person to see my father alive, and you don't know what happened afterward?""
"I wish I had a better answer.""
Naomi stepped between us.
"Cedric, we need to get to the warehouse.""
I nodded.
But before leaving, I turned toward Eleanor.
"You're coming with us.""
She looked surprised.
"Why?""
"Because if you really had nothing to do with my father's death, you should have no reason to fear what's inside that cabinet.""
The old Whitmore warehouse stood on the outskirts of the city.
Its exterior walls were covered in rust, and several windows had been boarded shut.
A faded company sign hung above the entrance.
Inside, dust covered the concrete floor.
Rows of abandoned equipment stood beneath plastic sheets.
I turned on my flashlight.
My father's toolbox was still visible in the photograph Naomi had received.
We found it near the back wall.
I knelt and ran my hand across the wooden lid.
There was a small brass plate attached to the front.
DANIEL WALLS.
I swallowed.
My father had made this box himself.
I remembered watching him carve the letters when I was twelve.
He had told me that every good mechanic needed a toolbox that could survive a lifetime.
I opened it.
Inside were his old wrenches, a measuring instrument, several notebooks, and a folded piece of paper.
I picked up the paper.
It was a handwritten diagram of the original braking technology.
Beside it was a note.
Cedric, if you ever find this, remember that the smallest part can cause the greatest failure.
I smiled sadly.
That was exactly how he taught me to work.
Naomi touched my shoulder.
"Is that his handwriting?""
"Yes.""
I folded the note carefully and placed it in my pocket.
Then we found the basement entrance.
A metal staircase descended into darkness.
Eleanor turned on her flashlight.
"Cabinet seventeen should be at the far end.""
We walked down.
The basement smelled of damp concrete and old paper.
Rows of filing cabinets lined the walls.
Most were empty.
Some had been broken open.
But cabinet seventeen remained locked.
I inserted the brass key.
It turned.
Inside were several sealed envelopes, two engineering notebooks, a black ledger, and a thick document folder.
I removed the folder.
The first page was the original ownership agreement.
My father's signature.
Eleanor's signature.
And the original percentage allocation.
I read the numbers.
Then I read them again.
"That's impossible.""
Naomi leaned over.
"What?""
I pointed to the page.
My father had owned forty percent of the original company.
Eleanor had owned thirty-five percent.
Richard Mitchell had owned only fifteen percent.
The remaining ten percent belonged to an employee trust.
But the disputed transfer document claimed my father had surrendered his entire stake to Richard.
The original agreement proved otherwise.
I turned another page.
There was a handwritten amendment.
It had been signed by my father two months before his death.
The amendment stated that his shares would pass directly to me.
And there was a condition.
If Richard or any associated party attempted to acquire those shares through fraudulent means, the employee trust would receive additional voting rights.
I looked at Eleanor.
"Did you know this existed?""
She nodded slowly.
"Yes.""
"Then why didn't you tell me?""
"Because I believed the original had been destroyed.""
"Who told you that?""
She didn't answer.
I opened the black ledger.
It contained years of financial transactions.
Payments to shell companies.
Transfers between investment accounts.
Invoices for research that had never been delivered.
And one name appeared repeatedly.
Richard Mitchell.
But there was another name.
One that appeared on almost every questionable transaction.
Eleanor Whitmore.
I looked up.
"What is this?""
Eleanor went pale.
"Those entries don't necessarily mean—"
"Your name is everywhere.""
"I was chief executive. My authorization was required for several transactions.""
"Then why didn't you tell me?""
"Because I didn't know Richard was diverting the money through those accounts.""
I pointed to a specific entry.
"This payment was authorized the day before my father died.""
Eleanor leaned forward.
She studied it.
Then her face changed.
"I never approved that.""
I looked at the signature.
It was hers.
Another forged signature?
Or something worse?
I turned to the next page.
There was a small handwritten note.
*Meeting confirmed. E.W. will deliver original records.
R.M. will handle Daniel.*
My blood went cold.
Naomi read it over my shoulder.
"Who wrote that?""
Eleanor shook her head.
"I've never seen this.""
I looked directly at her.
"What does E.W. mean?""
She didn't answer.
Then I heard a metallic sound behind us.
The basement door slammed shut.
I spun around.
"Who's there?""
Footsteps moved above us.
Then a voice echoed through the basement.
"Looking for something, Cedric?""
Xavier.
He appeared at the top of the stairs.
Two men stood behind him.
One held a metal crowbar.
Xavier smiled.
"That's my father's property.""
I stepped in front of Naomi.
"Not anymore.""
He began descending.
"You really should have listened to me at graduation.""
I laughed.
"You mean when you told me I was a bad investment?""
He shrugged.
"Well, look at us now.""
His eyes moved toward the open cabinet.
Then he saw the ledger.
His smile disappeared.
"Give me that.""
"No.""
He continued down the stairs.
"You're making a serious mistake.""
I held the ledger tightly.
"Then explain why your father paid millions through shell companies.""
Xavier glanced at Eleanor.
"You see? This is why I told you she couldn't be trusted.""
Eleanor stepped forward.
"Xavier, stop this.""
He laughed.
"Don't pretend you're innocent.""
One of the men behind him pulled a small bottle from his jacket.
I recognized the smell before he even opened it.
Fuel.
My stomach dropped.
"What are you doing?""
Xavier looked at the records.
"Cleaning up.""
Naomi stepped forward.
"You're going to burn everything?""
He looked at her.
"You should have stayed out of this.""
She shook her head.
"I should never have trusted you.""
Xavier smiled coldly.
"Trust is expensive, Naomi. You should know that by now.""
He gestured to the man with the bottle.
The man began pouring fuel along the basement floor.
I looked around.
There was only one staircase.
And Xavier was standing in front of it.
Then Eleanor did something I never expected.
She stepped between Xavier and the cabinet.
"Take the ledger," she whispered to me.
I stared at her.
"What?""
"Take it and go.""
Xavier laughed.
"Still playing the hero, Eleanor?""
She turned toward him.
"No, Xavier. I'm finally correcting the mistake I made twenty years ago.""
He raised his hand.
One of the men moved toward her.
Naomi grabbed a metal wrench from the toolbox and struck the emergency alarm mounted on the wall.
A deafening siren erupted.
Red lights flashed.
The men panicked.
I seized the opportunity.
I grabbed Naomi's hand, shoved the ledger inside my jacket, and ran toward a narrow maintenance passage I had noticed behind the cabinets.
"Go!"" I shouted.
Naomi followed.
Eleanor stayed behind.
As we reached the passage, I heard Xavier screaming.
"GET THE BOOK!""
Then came the sound of breaking glass.
A moment later, the entire basement filled with smoke.
We crawled through the narrow corridor and emerged behind the warehouse.
Naomi coughed violently.
I pulled her away from the building.
Then I turned.
Flames were already spreading across the basement windows.
"Eleanor!"" Naomi shouted.
I started toward the entrance.
She grabbed my arm.
"Cedric, no!""
I fought against her grip.
"She's still inside!""
Then someone appeared through the smoke.
Eleanor stumbled out of a side door, clutching a small metal box.
I rushed toward her.
She collapsed into my arms.
"Are you hurt?""
She coughed.
"Not badly.""
I looked at the metal box.
"What's that?""
Eleanor held it tightly.
"Something your father left for me.""
I frowned.
"What's inside?""
She looked at me.
"Proof that Richard didn't act alone.""
Before I could ask another question, sirens sounded in the distance.
Police cars surrounded the warehouse.
And as officers rushed toward us, Xavier emerged from the front entrance.
He was covered in soot.
But he wasn't running.
He was smiling.
Because he knew something we didn't.
He looked straight at me and shouted:
"Ask Eleanor who was driving the car that night!""
I turned.
Eleanor's face collapsed.
May you like
She whispered one sentence.
"I was, Cedric.""
