CHAPTER 2 — THE MISSING NINE MINUTES
The emergency lights came on seven seconds later.
Their pale glow transformed the living room into a room of shadows.
Michael ran into the hallway.
No one was there.
The front doors remained locked. The alarm system showed no entry or exit. Whoever had spoken had either disappeared into the mansion or had never been standing in the hallway at all.
Andrew checked the wall panel.
“The voice came through the intercom.”
Michael looked toward Eleanor.
She stood beside the sofa, one hand clutching the torn shoulder of her dress.
“Who told you to accuse my father?”
“I don’t know.”
Michael’s anger returned.
“You expect us to believe that?”
“I never saw the person.”
“You spoke to someone.”
“Through messages.”
“Show me.”
Eleanor reached into a small pocket hidden inside her dress and removed her phone.
The screen displayed a series of messages from an unknown number.
The first had arrived two days earlier.
WE KNOW WHAT HAPPENED ON MULHOLLAND DRIVE.
The next message included a photograph.
It showed a damaged black sedan stopped beside a mountain road at night.
Eleanor stood near the driver’s door.
Michael enlarged the image.
“What is this?”
Eleanor lowered her eyes.
“Three years ago, I hit a man with my car.”
The relatives reacted with shocked whispers.
“He stepped into the road,” she continued. “It was dark. I panicked.”
“Did he die?” Michael asked.
“No. But he was badly injured.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?”
“I did eventually. But I left first.”
George watched her closely.
“And someone obtained proof.”
Eleanor nodded.
“They threatened to give everything to the police and the newspapers.”
“What did they demand?”
She scrolled to the next message.
At 2:40 that afternoon, the instructions had arrived.
GO TO THE LIVING ROOM AT 3:05.
TEAR YOUR DRESS.
SCRATCH YOUR NECK.
SCREAM WHEN MICHAEL ENTERS.
ACCUSE GEORGE.
Michael read the message twice.
“They knew I was on the terrace.”
“They knew everyone’s location,” Eleanor said.
George looked toward the black camera in the corner.
“They also knew the recording would need to disappear.”
Andrew restored power to the security terminal.
The system showed that the deletion command had come from Michael’s private study.
Michael led the family upstairs.
His study door was locked.
He entered the code and pushed it open.
Nothing appeared disturbed.
A laptop rested on the desk.
George approached it.
“Don’t touch anything.”
Michael stopped.
Andrew photographed the screen before waking the computer.
The security software was open.
A deletion log showed that the living-room footage had been erased at 3:16.
Michael looked at Andrew.
“I was downstairs.”
“We all saw you,” Eleanor said.
George examined the desk.
A nearly empty glass of water stood beside the laptop.
He pointed to it.
“Was that yours?”
Michael shook his head.
“I haven’t been in here since breakfast.”
Andrew put on a pair of gloves and lifted the glass.
A faint lipstick mark appeared near the rim.
Everyone looked at Eleanor.
She shook her head quickly.
“That isn’t my color.”
The mark was dark red.
Eleanor wore pale rose lipstick.
Michael’s older sister, Catherine, wore red.
Catherine had been standing quietly near the doorway since the accusation began.
Now every eye turned toward her.
She gave a short laugh.
“You cannot be serious.”
“Where were you at 3:16?” Michael asked.
“In the garden with Aunt Rebecca.”
Rebecca hesitated.
“You left for several minutes.”
Catherine stared at her.
“I went to the bathroom.”
George looked at the laptop.
“Did you enter Michael’s study?”
“No.”
“Did you use his computer?”
“No.”
Andrew examined the login record.
“The computer was accessed with Michael’s administrator account.”
Catherine folded her arms.
“Then Michael did it.”
“I was downstairs.”
“Someone could have scheduled the deletion earlier.”
Andrew shook his head.
“This was done manually.”
Michael moved toward his sister.
“Did you frame Dad?”
Catherine’s expression hardened.
“Why would I?”
George answered.
“Because tomorrow morning, I intended to remove you from the family trust.”
The room fell silent.
Catherine slowly turned toward him.
“You never told me that.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
Michael looked at his father.
“Why remove her?”
George opened the folder he had carried into the living room before the camera went dark.
Inside were bank records.
Over eighteen months, twelve million dollars had been transferred from the Brooks Family Foundation into companies that existed only on paper.
Every transfer had been approved by a trustee.
Catherine Brooks.
Her face remained calm.
“These are legitimate investments.”
“They are theft,” George said.
“You have no proof.”
“I have enough to call the federal authorities.”
Catherine looked toward Eleanor.
A tiny movement.
Almost nothing.
But George saw it.
“You knew,” he said to Eleanor.
She began crying.
“I knew someone wanted him discredited. I didn’t know why.”
George turned to Michael.
“If Eleanor accused me of assault, the trustees could vote to declare me unfit. Control of the family assets would temporarily pass to the next senior trustee.”
Michael looked at Catherine.
“You.”
She stepped into the study.
“You’re all making an extraordinary accusation based on a glass and a deleted video.”
George closed the folder.
“No. We are making it based on motive.”
Catherine smiled.
“Then you still need evidence.”
A voice came from behind them.
“I may have it.”
Victor Lang, the Brooks family attorney, stood in the hallway carrying a leather briefcase.
He had served the family for thirty-one years.
George looked surprised.
“You were not invited.”
Victor entered the room.
“I received a message telling me to come.”
“From whom?”
Victor opened his briefcase.
Inside was a portable hard drive.
“The mansion’s cameras create a secondary backup before footage is deleted.”
Andrew stared at him.
“I didn’t know that.”
“You were not supposed to.”
Victor connected the drive to Michael’s laptop.
A video file appeared.
LIVING ROOM — 3:05 TO 3:18.
Eleanor covered her mouth.
Catherine’s confidence disappeared.
Victor moved the cursor toward the play button.
Then stopped.
“There is one thing you should know.”
George looked at him.
“What?”
“The person who sent me this backup knew the recording would be deleted before it happened.”
Victor pressed play.
The video began with Eleanor entering the living room behind George.
But she was not alone.
Someone else followed her through the doorway.
Someone whose face remained outside the camera frame.
Only one hand was visible.
It wore a large emerald ring.
May you like
Michael looked toward Catherine’s hand.
Her emerald ring was gone.
