Chapter 7 - Basement SeventeenWhat My Father Buried Beneath ChicagoThe hidden basement was underneath an abandoned textile factory on the south side.
Arthur drove alone.
He wouldn't bring his men.
He wouldn't bring police.
He wouldn't even let Dr. Mercer come.
“You stay in the car,” he told me.
“I won't.”
“Ivy.”
“I've had enough people telling me to stay somewhere.”
He stared at me.
Then he sighed.
“Fine.”
The factory looked dead.
Broken windows.
Rusting pipes.
Graffiti.
The air smelled of wet concrete.
Arthur found a steel door beneath the old loading dock.
The lock had no keyhole.
He pressed my key against a small metal plate.
Nothing.
Then I noticed another mark.
A tiny red line.
“The red book.”
Arthur turned.
“What?”
“Dad's clue.”
Arthur looked at the door.
Then removed a red notebook from his coat.
I stared.
“You had it?”
“I found it in my father's safe.”
He opened it.
Inside were columns of names.
Numbers.
Dates.
Locations.
Payments.
Arthur's expression darkened.
“The Black Ledger.”
We found a page labeled:
B-17.
Arthur pressed the notebook to the door.
A click sounded.
The steel door unlocked.
Inside was a room filled with boxes.
And photographs.
Hundreds of them.
Judges.
Detectives.
Politicians.
Union leaders.
Business owners.
People whose faces I had seen on television.
Arthur walked slowly through the room.
“This could destroy half the city.”
I saw another photograph.
My father.
Arthur's brother.
And a third man.
Older.
Gray hair.
A scar through one eyebrow.
I pointed.
“Who is that?”
Arthur didn't answer.
I looked at the back.
A name.
Julian Pendleton.
Arthur's uncle.
His father's younger brother.
“He's alive?”
Arthur's face hardened.
“He shouldn't be.”
“Why?”
Arthur lifted the photograph.
“Because my father died believing Julian was dead.”
I didn't understand anything anymore.
Then I saw a box with my name.
Arthur opened it.
Inside was a stuffed white rabbit.
My childhood rabbit.
I recognized it instantly.
“You had this?”
Arthur looked confused.
“No.”
I grabbed it.
Mom had bought that rabbit the week Dad disappeared.
I squeezed it.
Something rattled inside.
Arthur cut open the seam.
A tiny memory card fell out.
“What is that?”
Arthur stared.
“Your father left this.”
We found a laptop.
The card contained one video.
My father's face appeared on the screen.
Older than I remembered.
Tired.
Terrified.
“Ivy,” he said.
I stopped breathing.
“If you're watching this, then Elena's protection has failed.”
Arthur stood behind me.
Dad continued.
“Arthur, if you're there, I'm sorry.”
Arthur stared at the screen.
“I couldn't trust your uncle.”
My father's voice cracked.
“He found out about the ledger.”
The screen flickered.
“Julian didn't kill Thomas.”
Arthur's face changed.
“He took him.”
I stared.
Dad continued:
“Thomas is alive.”
Arthur stepped toward the screen.
“Where?”
My father's eyes suddenly shifted.
He looked behind him.
Someone had entered the room where he was recording.
Dad whispered:
“They found me.”
The video cut.
Silence.
Arthur stared at the black screen.
Then his phone rang.
One of his men.
Arthur answered.
The man's voice was panicked.
“Boss, the mansion is on fire.”
Arthur stood.
“What about the twins?”
A pause.
Then:
“We found Owen.”
Arthur's eyes narrowed.
“Where?”
“In the nursery.”
“Is he alive?”
Another pause.
“No.”
I screamed.
Arthur dropped the phone.
Then his men heard a second voice on the line.
A man's voice.
“Now you know what losing family feels like.”
The call ended.
May you like
Arthur looked at me.
And for the first time, I saw murder in his eyes.
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