Chapter 9 - BEHIND THE BALLROOM
My father understood immediately.
“This house has service passages.”
I had forgotten.
The original estate had been built in 1912.
Hidden corridors allowed staff to move between formal rooms without disturbing guests.
Most had been sealed during renovations.
Most.
Dad looked at Marcus.
“West ballroom passage.”
Marcus contacted his teams.
We returned to the ballroom.
Guests had been moved away from the walls.
Police officers now controlled the room.
The atmosphere had changed completely.
No champagne.
No laughter.
No orchestra.
Just whispers.
Phones.
Fear.
Preston stood near the staircase with two officers.
When he saw us approaching the west wall, he panicked.
“Don’t open that.”
Detective Bennett looked at him.
“Why?”
He shut his mouth.
Too late.
Marcus found the old access panel behind a tapestry.
The lock had fresh scratches.
Someone had used it recently.
Security opened the narrow door.
Cold air moved through the gap.
Two officers entered first.
Then Marcus.
Dad tried to follow.
I caught his sleeve.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“You’re staying here.”
“So are you.”
For once, he didn’t argue.
We waited.
Thirty seconds.
One minute.
Then a shout echoed inside the wall.
“Police!”
Another shout.
Movement.
Something crashed.
Guests screamed.
Two officers emerged dragging a man in a torn tuxedo.
Senator Malcolm Harrington.
The entire ballroom erupted.
Cameras came up.
People shouted questions.
Malcolm looked nothing like the charming senator from earlier.
His hair was disheveled.
Dust covered his jacket.
A cut crossed his cheek.
But his eyes remained calculating.
He saw Preston.
Then me.
Then my father.
“Jonathan.”
Dad stared at him.
“Malcolm.”
The senator almost smiled.
“This looks dramatic.”
My father’s hands trembled.
“You killed my son.”
Malcolm’s expression remained calm.
“Careful.”
Robert was brought into the ballroom on a stretcher as paramedics prepared to transfer him.
He lifted his head when he saw Malcolm.
“That’s him.”
Malcolm glanced toward him.
“Robert.”
“You ordered Nathan’s car compromised.”
Malcolm smiled sadly.
“You’ve always had a weak constitution.”
Robert began shouting.
“I gave you the code!”
His voice cracked.
“You said nobody would get hurt!”
The ballroom exploded with whispers.
Malcolm’s attorney pushed through the crowd.
“Senator, do not speak.”
Malcolm ignored him.
Instead, he looked at me.
“You resemble your mother.”
I felt disgust crawl across my skin.
“Don’t say her name.”
“I respected Caroline.”
“You used her foundation to blackmail my uncle.”
Malcolm shrugged.
“Robert blackmailed himself.”
Dad moved forward.
Police stopped him.
Malcolm smiled.
“There’s the Jonathan Arden I remember.”
Dad’s voice shook.
“You remember my son?”
The smile disappeared.
“I remember Nathan was reckless.”
“You had him murdered.”
“No.”
“You sabotaged his car.”
Malcolm’s eyes shifted.
That tiny movement was enough.
Detective Bennett saw it.
I saw it.
Dad saw it.
Then Malcolm said something none of us expected.
“I did not order Nathan Arden’s death.”
Robert shouted.
“Liar!”
Malcolm looked at him.
“I ordered his car stopped.”
The ballroom went silent.
Dad stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“I wanted the vehicle disabled.”
“The brake line was cut.”
“That wasn’t my instruction.”
Robert shook his head.
“You told me to provide full maintenance access.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To prevent him from reaching the investigator.”
Dad’s face twisted.
“And then?”
Malcolm looked toward Preston.
His son turned pale.
“No.”
Preston whispered it.
“No, Dad.”
Malcolm ignored him.
“Someone changed the order.”
I stepped closer.
“Who?”
Malcolm looked directly at me.
“The person Nathan trusted most.”
My heart began pounding.
“North?”
Malcolm laughed.
“No.”
He shook his head.
“Your brother.”
Dad stared.
“What are you saying?”
May you like
Malcolm’s smile returned.
“I’m saying Nathan Arden sabotaged his own car.”
