Chapter 27 - The Photograph Taken Yesterday
Nobody breathed.
The photograph showed Martin standing outside a train station.
Older than Claire remembered.
Gray at his temples.
Alive.
Jonathan immediately zoomed in.
“This could be fabricated.”
Michael shook his head.
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“I took the photograph.”
Claire stared at him.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
Wesley stepped forward.
“Why didn't you tell us?”
“Because I didn't know whether he was really Martin.”
Claire almost laughed.
“Who else could it be?”
Michael pointed to the man's left hand.
“Look.”
Claire zoomed in.
A wedding ring.
Martin's ring.
But there was another detail.
The man's right hand carried a cane.
Martin had never used one.
Jonathan looked closer.
“The image is real.”
Claire's heart raced.
“So he's alive.”
Michael shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“Then find him.”
“We've been trying.”
“For how long?”
“Six months.”
Claire turned.
“You've known for six months?”
Michael nodded.
“I didn't tell you because every time I got close, someone moved him.”
“Who?”
“Unknown.”
Jonathan examined the image.
“Where was this taken?”
“Boston.”
“Then why bring us here?”
“Because whoever is controlling Martin is connected to the trust.”
Claire looked at the computer.
The transfer was still pending.
“How long?”
“Forty-seven minutes.”
“Until what?”
“Until the money leaves.”
Claire stared at the screen.
“We have to stop it.”
Jonathan nodded.
“I need access to the original trust server.”
“Where?”
“Chicago.”
Michael looked at him.
“That's impossible.”
“Why?”
“The building is watched.”
Claire stood.
“Then we'll go anyway.”
Audrey grabbed her hand.
“Mom.”
Claire looked at her.
“We spent years running.”
She squeezed Audrey's fingers.
“I'm finished.”
They left before sunrise.
By noon, they were in Chicago.
The trust headquarters occupied the top floors of a glass tower.
Jonathan had arranged temporary access.
But as they entered the building, Claire noticed something strange.
Security guards were not watching them.
They were watching the elevators.
Michael whispered:
“Something's wrong.”
They reached the forty-second floor.
The hallway was empty.
Too empty.
Jonathan swiped his card.
The doors opened.
Inside, computer servers hummed.
Claire walked toward the central terminal.
Jonathan connected the drive.
The transfer screen appeared.
He typed.
“Come on.”
The system rejected him.
Again.
Rejected.
Michael looked over his shoulder.
“What's wrong?”
“The server requires biometric approval.”
“Whose?”
Jonathan looked at Claire.
“Martin's.”
Claire felt a chill.
“Then we're wasting time.”
A door opened behind them.
Everyone turned.
A man stood there.
Not Daniel.
Not Elliot.
A security officer.
He raised his hands.
“Don't shoot.”
Michael lowered his gun.
“Who are you?”
“Samuel Price.”
Jonathan recognized the name.
“He worked for Martin.”
Samuel nodded.
“I've been waiting.”
“For what?”
“For Claire.”
Samuel opened a drawer.
Inside was a biometric access device.
“Martin left this with me.”
Claire stared.
“Why?”
Samuel looked at her.
“He knew someone would eventually come.”
“Did he tell you he was alive?”
Samuel hesitated.
“No.”
“Then what did he tell you?”
Samuel handed her a letter.
Claire opened it.
The handwriting was Martin's.
Claire,
When you reach this room, you will believe the worst.
Don't.
The man in the photograph is not me.
He is my brother.
Claire's hands began to shake.
“Brother?”
Michael stepped closer.
Samuel continued.
“Martin told me the man would look exactly like him.”
Claire read the next line.
He was born before me and disappeared before anyone knew he existed.
Michael stared at the page.
“He knew.”
Claire looked at him.
“Martin knew about you?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Most of my life.”
Michael's expression cracked.
“He found me.”
Claire read on.
My brother is the only person I trust to carry the truth after I'm gone.
Claire looked up.
The pieces were beginning to fit.
“The photograph.”
Michael nodded.
“That wasn't Martin.”
“It was you?”
“No.”
He took the photograph.
“The man in this picture isn't me.”
Everyone stared.
Then Samuel whispered:
“There's a third brother.”
Silence.
Claire's face went blank.
“No.”
Samuel opened another file.
Three birth records.
Three names.
Three boys.
One disappeared.
One presumed dead.
One raised by another family.
Martin had been the middle brother.
Michael was the first.
The third was listed under a different surname.
Claire felt dizzy.
“Why would Martin hide this?”
Samuel answered.
“Because the third brother became the network's accountant.”
Jonathan stared.
“The person controlling the trusts.”
Samuel nodded.
Claire whispered:
“What's his name?”
Samuel looked at Michael.
“Adrian Hart.”
Michael closed his eyes.
“He's the one I've been looking for.”
The server suddenly beeped.
TRANSFER COMPLETE.
Claire stared.
The money was gone.
Four hundred million dollars.
Transferred to:
ADRIAN HART TRUST.
Michael whispered:
“He won.”
Then a message appeared on the screen.
THANK YOU FOR AUTHORIZING THE TRANSFER, CLAIRE.
May you like
A final line appeared.
NOW COME HOME.
