Chapter 6 - Victor Sloane's Warning
"Stop," Mark said.
Victor Sloane paused beside the diner's front door.
He was taller than Mark remembered from charity dinners, with silver hair and an expensive coat that looked wrong against the cracked vinyl booths.
"You've mistaken me for someone else."
"You answered my mother's phone last night."
Sloane's smile faded.
"Your mother has been under extraordinary strain."
"So has my five-year-old daughter."
"Then take care of her. Let the adults finish the transaction."
Mark started forward, but Beatrice gripped his sleeve.
Two families were having breakfast ten feet away.
He forced himself to stand still.
"If my name is on your documents, you'll hear from my attorney."
Sloane adjusted his cuff.
"Make sure you hire one who can afford to lose."
After he left, Beatrice finally spoke.
"He was at the house the day Henry died."
Mark stared at her.
His father had suffered a fatal heart attack when Mark was twenty-three.
"What does that have to do with this?"
"I don't know. But Claire wrote that his visit was important."
Mark called his longtime friend, attorney Samir Patel, and emailed him the forged signature.
Samir responded within minutes.
"Don't confront anyone else alone. We can seek an emergency order if we have evidence of fraud, but a copied signature isn't enough by itself."
"Then what is?"
"The original trust and the records that establish who owns the spring."
Mark looked at Claire's recipe card.
12-4-9.
The numbers could be a date, a locker, a room.
Beatrice tapped the paper with one finger.
"There are twelve stone steps down the old pump shaft," she said. "Four windows in the service tunnel. And nine shelves in the records room."
Mark turned toward her.
May you like
"You knew there was a room."
"Yes," she whispered. "And someone has been keeping it locked from the inside."
