Chapter 14: The Abduction
Chapter 14: The Abduction
Claire Donovan didn't answer immediately.
She stared at the radio in her hand as if the words themselves might change.
Then she pressed the transmit button.
"Repeat that."
Static crackled.
The officer's breathing was ragged.
"Richard Ashford has been taken."
"We never saw the attacker."
"The security cameras all went offline for exactly forty-three seconds."
Claire's eyes narrowed.
Forty-three seconds.
Long enough for a professional.
Far too short for an amateur.
Adrian was already running.
He burst from the hidden chamber, raced through the cellar, and climbed the marble staircase two steps at a time.
The ballroom looked completely different.
Police tape stretched across the entrance.
Guests huddled together in frightened groups.
Officers were interviewing witnesses.
Richard's chair stood empty.
One overturned champagne glass lay beside it.
Nothing else appeared disturbed.
No signs of a struggle.
No blood.
No broken furniture.
It was as if Richard had simply...
Vanished.
Claire knelt beside the chair.
The carpet caught her attention.
A faint trail of white powder.
She rubbed a tiny amount between her gloved fingers.
"Lab test," she ordered.
A forensic technician nodded.
Five minutes later...
"Detective."
"The powder contains residue from a fast-acting inhalation sedative."
Claire frowned.
"He didn't walk away."
"No."
The technician looked at the report.
"He was unconscious."
Eleanor approached Adrian.
"Who would kidnap him?"
Before Adrian could answer...
Victoria spoke quietly.
"Someone who needs him alive."
Everyone turned toward her.
She continued.
"If Richard were really the mastermind..."
"...he'd already be dead."
Silence.
Claire looked thoughtfully at Victoria.
The logic was difficult to ignore.
Meanwhile...
Thirty miles outside the city...
An old warehouse overlooked an abandoned freight yard.
Inside...
Richard Ashford slowly opened his eyes.
His wrists were tied to a metal chair.
A single lamp hung from the ceiling.
Someone sat in the darkness beyond its light.
Richard smiled faintly.
"I wondered how long it would take."
The figure answered calmly.
"Twenty-seven years."
The voice belonged to a woman.
Richard sighed.
"I suppose I deserve that."
"You deserve much more."
She stepped into the light.
For the first time...
The mysterious White Queen revealed her face.
She was around fifty years old.
Silver beginning to streak through dark hair.
Calm gray eyes.
No anger.
No satisfaction.
Only quiet determination.
Richard stared at her.
"I always knew you survived."
The woman smiled sadly.
"And yet..."
"...you never looked for me."
Richard lowered his eyes.
"I did."
"No."
"You looked for someone to silence."
"You never looked for someone to save."
Back at the mansion...
Claire reviewed every security recording.
Exactly as the officer had said.
All cameras failed simultaneously.
Forty-three seconds.
Then one technician called out.
"Detective."
"We recovered one camera."
"The backup battery kept recording."
The footage appeared on the monitor.
Black-and-white.
Grainy.
But usable.
Everyone leaned closer.
Richard sat alone.
Suddenly...
A woman in a maintenance uniform approached him.
She carried a toolbox.
She said something.
Richard looked up.
The instant he saw her face...
He smiled.
Not with surprise.
With recognition.
Then...
Without resisting...
He stood.
Walked with her.
And disappeared through a side corridor.
Claire paused the video.
"He wasn't forced."
Adrian stared.
"He knew her."
The footage zoomed in as much as possible.
The woman's face remained partially hidden beneath a cap.
But one detail stood out.
Around her neck hung a silver chain.
Attached to it...
A small ivory chess queen.
The same symbol they had just discovered underground.
Claire whispered,
"The White Queen."
At the warehouse...
The woman untied Richard's hands.
He looked surprised.
"I expected chains."
"You aren't my prisoner."
She placed a folder on the table.
"You're my witness."
Richard frowned.
"Witness to what?"
She opened the folder.
Inside were newspaper clippings.
Police reports.
Photographs.
Every unsolved death connected to Ashford Biotech over three decades.
"There were twelve."
Richard stared.
"Twelve?"
"I only knew about three."
She looked directly into his eyes.
"Exactly."
Richard slowly looked up.
For the first time in years...
He appeared genuinely shaken.
"You've spent twenty-seven years believing you were the worst man in this story."
The White Queen spoke quietly.
"You weren't."
Richard laughed bitterly.
"I abandoned Emily."
"Yes."
"I forged financial records."
"Yes."
"I hid Father's will."
"Yes."
"I blackmailed competitors."
"Yes."
She closed the folder.
"But you never discovered who was using your crimes to hide murders."
Richard's smile vanished.
Back at the mansion...
Another call came into Claire's phone.
It was the forensic laboratory.
"Detective."
"We've completed DNA testing on the skeleton from Wall Seventeen."
Claire activated the speaker.
"Go ahead."
"It is not Emily Bennett."
"We know that."
A pause.
"But we identified the remains."
Claire held her breath.
"They belong to..."
Several seconds passed.
"...Michael Ashford."
Adrian felt his stomach drop.
Richard's missing younger brother.
His uncle.
The boy everyone had believed drowned.
He had never drowned.
He had been murdered.
And hidden beneath the family mansion for more than twenty years.
Claire closed her eyes.
One mystery had just been solved.
Only to reveal an even larger one.
Then the lab technician added one final sentence.
"Detective..."
"We also recovered DNA from beneath Michael's fingernails."
Claire looked up.
"Whose?"
The answer came back immediately.
"It doesn't match Richard Ashford."
Silence.
"It doesn't match anyone in our criminal database."
Another pause.
"But it does match..."
Claire's pulse quickened.
"...the unknown female DNA recovered from George Ashford's office twenty-seven years ago."
The room fell silent.
The same unknown woman...
Had been present when George disappeared.
And had also been with Michael when he died.
Adrian whispered,
"The White Queen..."
Claire slowly shook her head.
"Maybe."
"But if it's her DNA..."
She looked toward the warehouse footage.
"...then why would she leave evidence that points directly to herself?"
Neither of them had an answer.
Far away, in the warehouse, the White Queen looked at Richard and quietly said,
"It's time you met the person who truly ordered your father's death."
She opened the steel door behind her.
A shadow stepped into the light.
Richard's face drained of all color.
"No..."
he whispered.
"That's impossible."
The figure smiled.
"Hello, Richard."
May you like
"I've been dead for twenty-seven years."
End of Chapter 14
