Chapter 4 - Frederick Had Given Cordelia a Second Job Nobody Knew AboutCordelia had not always been only a housekeeper.
That was the first thing Malcolm learned.
"Your father hired me in 2004," she said.
"I know."
"No. You know when I began working in the house."
Malcolm frowned.
Cordelia continued.
"Three years later, he gave me another responsibility."
"What?"
"Document custody."
He almost laughed.
"You're telling me Dad used his housekeeper as a records officer?"
"Exactly."
"Why?"
"Because nobody pays attention to what a housekeeper carries."
Malcolm stared.
Cordelia gave him a tired smile.
"Executives see assistants. Lawyers see paralegals. Family members see one another. Almost nobody notices the woman carrying laundry."
That sounded like Frederick.
His father had distrusted formal systems even while building one of the largest medical-device companies in the Northeast.
He kept duplicate notebooks.
Wrote passwords on paper locked in places no IT auditor knew existed.
"How did this start?"
"After a board leak."
Malcolm remembered.
A confidential acquisition plan reached a competitor two days before announcement.
The deal nearly collapsed.
"Dad never found who leaked it."
"No."
Cordelia paused.
"But he learned that information stored in official places could disappear."
"So he gave documents to you?"
"Copies."
"Where?"
"Different places."
"Why not tell us?"
"Because secrecy was the purpose."
Malcolm looked at her.
"Did my mother know?"
Cordelia's expression softened.
"Joanna knew I helped him with something. She never asked what."
Malcolm's mother had died twelve years earlier.
Cancer.
Afterward, Frederick became more private.
More controlling.
Maybe more afraid.
"When did the list begin?"
"About three years ago."
"Before Samuel died."
"Yes."
"Who discovered the signatures?"
"Samuel."
Frederick's accountant.
"What happened?"
Cordelia hesitated.
"Mr. Price found documents connected to the Legacy Trust."
"Which documents?"
"Beneficiary waivers. Voting proxies. Consent forms."
"Forged?"
"Some signatures were authentic but taken from unrelated papers. Others were false."
Malcolm's stomach tightened.
"To accomplish what?"
"To move voting authority."
"To whom?"
Cordelia looked away.
"I never saw the final structure."
"You're lying."
"No."
"You kept evidence for Dad but never asked who benefited?"
"Your father didn't tell me everything."
"Who prepared the documents?"
She closed her eyes.
"Some came through Walter Keene's office."
Malcolm felt cold.
The family attorney.
The man who had read Frederick's will.
Explained the trust.
Managed probate.
"Was Walter involved?"
"I don't know."
"Did Dad suspect him?"
"Yes."
"Then why keep him as attorney?"
"Because your father believed firing someone was the fastest way to tell them you knew."
That also sounded like Frederick.
"He was investigating Walter."
"And others."
"Who?"
"Your siblings."
Malcolm leaned back.
"Cassandra and Declan?"
"Potentially."
"That's not an answer."
"Frederick didn't know who was responsible."
"Then why did Declan tell me Dad fired you?"
Cordelia's mouth tightened.
"Because Declan was there the day your father pretended to."
Malcolm frowned.
"Pretended?"
Cordelia nodded.
"Frederick staged an argument."
"Why?"
"Someone had searched my room."
Malcolm stared.
"At the house?"
"Yes."
"What was missing?"
"A copy of the list."
"Who knew you had it?"
"Only Frederick."
"Then someone followed him."
"Probably."
Cordelia continued.
"He shouted at me in front of staff. Said I'd broken confidentiality. Told me I was dismissed."
"But you stayed."
"I left for three days."
"I remember that."
Malcolm did.
Cordelia suddenly vanished during the week before Frederick died.
Family staff said she'd taken emergency leave.
"Then you came back."
"Your father called me."
"Why?"
"He said the person watching believed I'd been removed."
Malcolm felt his skin prickle.
"Who was there for the argument?"
Cordelia counted.
"Declan. Walter. Cassandra came in near the end. Two staff members."
"So Declan believed you were fired."
"Maybe."
"Or he knew it was fake."
Cordelia didn't answer.
Malcolm stood.
He needed air.
Instead, he walked toward the hospital window.
Below them, Manhattan glowed through the night.
"Why didn't Dad tell me?"
Cordelia was quiet.
"Why didn't he trust me?"
"He did."
"No."
Malcolm turned.
"If he trusted me, I would've known."
"Your father didn't trust what you would do."
"What does that mean?"
"He believed you'd confront everyone."
Malcolm almost laughed.
Apparently Elise wasn't the only dead family member who feared confrontation in another story; but let's remain within this story.
Cordelia continued.
"Frederick said you were honest but impatient."
"That's supposed to make me feel better?"
"No."
"What about Cassandra?"
"He thought she was too involved in foundation finances."
"Declan?"
Cordelia looked uneasy.
"He thought Declan wanted control too badly."
Malcolm remembered childhood.
Cassandra wanted approval.
Malcolm wanted independence.
Declan wanted to win.
Always.
"What was Dad's plan?"
"Complete an independent audit, then amend the trust before anyone knew."
"Did he?"
"I don't know."
Malcolm frowned.
"How can you not know?"
"Because the night before he died, he gave me one envelope."
"What's inside?"
"I never opened it."
"Where is it?"
Cordelia looked at him.
"I don't have it."
His pulse changed.
"Who does?"
"Your son."
Malcolm stared.
"What?"
"Frederick hid it in something he gave Harrison."
"When?"
"Two days before he died."
"Harrison was eight."
"Exactly."
Malcolm felt anger.
"Why would everyone in this family use children as hiding places?"
Cordelia's eyes filled.
"Because Frederick believed nobody would search a child's things."
"Someone already did."
Cordelia nodded.
"Tonight."
Malcolm went still.
"Harrison opened your bag."
"No."
Cordelia looked directly at him.
"Someone searched Harrison's room before he opened mine."
Malcolm stared.
"How do you know?"
"Because when I went upstairs this afternoon, his bookshelf had been moved."
"Maybe he moved it."
"No."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because Frederick built a cavity behind it."
Malcolm felt the room tilt.
"What was inside?"
Cordelia whispered:
"The ledger."
Malcolm stopped breathing.
The note at the bottom of the list returned to him.
If Frederick is crossed out, open the ledger before they reach the boy.
"Did you check?"
Cordelia nodded.
"And?"
"It was gone."
Malcolm immediately pulled out his phone.
He called Ethan, where Harrison was staying.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
His heart hammered.
On the third call, Ethan answered.
"Hey."
"Where's Harrison?"
"Sleeping."
"Are you sure?"
"Malcolm, yes."
"Check."
"What?"
"Check now."
Ethan heard his tone.
Footsteps.
A door opening.
Then:
"He's here."
Malcolm exhaled.
"Wake him."
"Why?"
"Please."
A moment later, Harrison's sleepy voice came through.
"Dad?"
"Buddy, Grandpa gave you something before he died."
Silence.
"What?"
"Something he said you needed to keep."
Harrison became quiet.
Malcolm's heartbeat accelerated.
"Do you remember?"
"Maybe."
"What was it?"
"A book."
"What book?"
"Grandpa's puzzle book."
"Where is it?"
Another pause.
"I don't know."
"Harrison."
"I used to keep it behind my shelf."
Malcolm closed his eyes.
"Did you move it?"
"No."
The ledger.
Gone.
Then Harrison added:
"But I took something out before it disappeared."
Malcolm opened his eyes.
"What?"
"A little metal thing."
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"What kind of thing?"
"It looks like a key."
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