Chapter 5 - Dinner With a Dying King
Thomas Rourke did not answer immediately.
That frightened Emily more than denial would have.
She sat in the hidden security room adjoining the library, headphones pressed against her ears, watching three camera feeds.
Mason at the table.
Jack behind him.
Thomas opposite them.
Six black stitches beside Mason’s wineglass.
For seventeen years, Thomas Rourke had been the closest thing Mason possessed to a father.
Now they sat facing each other like strangers.
Thomas reached for his wine.
“You’ve been sick too long.”
Mason’s expression did not change.
“The poison affected my shoulder, not my imagination.”
“You think I poisoned you?”
“I think you arranged for Emily Carter to be hired months before I was shot.”
Thomas smiled faintly.
“I approve hundreds of staffing contracts.”
“You personally approved hers.”
Silence.
Mason continued.
“You owned Everline Textiles.”
Thomas’s eyes sharpened.
There.
A reaction.
Emily felt her heartbeat accelerate.
Mason noticed too.
Thomas put down his glass.
“Your maid has been telling stories.”
“My maid removed the poison you paid to have sewn into my shoulder.”
“You have proof?”
“Enough.”
“If you had enough, Jack would have shot me before dinner.”
Jack’s face remained blank.
Thomas leaned back.
“So you have questions.”
“One.”
Mason touched the black stitches.
“Why?”
Thomas stared at him.
Something old passed across his face.
Fatigue.
Resentment.
Perhaps grief.
“You were supposed to be different.”
Mason’s jaw tightened.
“Different from what?”
“Your father.”
Emily leaned forward toward the monitor.
Thomas continued.
“Vincent built an empire, then became sentimental.”
Mason’s voice chilled.
“Be careful.”
“You asked.”
Thomas did not raise his voice.
That made him more dangerous.
“He started talking about legitimacy. Selling routes. Closing operations. Cooperating with federal investigators.”
Mason stopped moving.
“My father never cooperated.”
Thomas smiled without humor.
“That’s what I told everyone after he died.”
Silence crashed over the room.
Emily’s breath caught.
Mason stared.
Jack’s hand moved inside his jacket.
Mason whispered, “After he died.”
Thomas realized what he had revealed.
Too late.
Mason’s face changed.
“You killed him.”
Thomas looked away.
Seventeen years of history collapsed in four seconds.
Mason pushed back from the table.
Jack drew his weapon.
Thomas did not move.
“You killed my father.”
“I saved what he built.”
“You murdered him.”
“He was going to destroy everything.”
Mason’s breathing became dangerous.
Thomas looked at him almost sadly.
“You were eighteen. Angry. Brilliant. Easy to shape.”
Emily felt sick.
Thomas had not rescued Mason after his father’s murder.
He had created the wound and then stepped forward as the cure.
Mason’s voice cracked with suppressed rage.
“You raised me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you were his heir.”
Thomas leaned forward.
“And because I loved you.”
Mason laughed once.
It sounded broken.
“You poisoned me.”
“Because you became him.”
Mason froze.
“You started closing operations. Moving assets into legitimate companies. Refusing deals that had kept us powerful for decades.”
“Deals involving children.”
“Business.”
“Trafficking.”
Thomas’s expression hardened.
“You became moral.”
“No.”
Mason leaned forward.
“I developed standards.”
“That is morality wearing an expensive suit.”
Emily almost smiled despite everything.
Thomas continued.
“You would have dismantled the organization.”
“I was rebuilding it.”
“Into what? Shipping companies? Real estate? Hospitals?”
“Yes.”
Thomas shook his head.
“Your father said the same things.”
Mason stared.
“And you killed him for it.”
“I prevented collapse.”
Jack spoke.
“You could have challenged Mason.”
Thomas glanced toward him.
“And lose?”
He laughed softly.
“No.”
Thomas looked back at Mason.
“The bullet created a clean wound. Crane used the thread. The poison was slow enough to look like infection. After the arm was removed, you were meant to develop systemic failure.”
Emily closed her eyes.
He was admitting it.
“The doctors would blame complications,” Thomas said.
“And Emily?” Mason asked.
Thomas hesitated.
Emily leaned closer.
“What about her?”
Thomas’s face changed.
“Insurance.”
Mason’s expression darkened.
Thomas continued.
“Her mother collected evidence from Everline. I knew the daughter still possessed Lorraine’s boxes.”
“You hired her to watch her.”
“Yes.”
“And the poison bottle?”
“To provide motive if anyone discovered the compound.”
Jack’s jaw tightened.
Thomas almost sounded proud.
“She was poor. Angry. Her mother died because of a company I owned. She worked in your home. She had access.”
Mason’s voice became nearly inaudible.
“You were going to let her die for it too.”
Thomas did not answer.
That was answer enough.
Emily felt cold.
Mason stood.
Jack raised the gun.
Thomas remained seated.
“Mason.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I raised you.”
“You studied me.”
“I protected you.”
“You manufactured everything I needed protection from.”
Thomas looked older suddenly.
“Mason, listen to me.”
“No.”
Thomas reached beneath the table.
Jack shouted.
The lights went out.
Emily tore off the headphones.
Gunfire exploded from the library.
One shot.
Then another.
Emergency lights flashed red.
Emily ran for the door.
A security guard tried to stop her.
“Miss Carter!”
She pushed past him.
The library doors opened.
Jack was on the floor.
Alive.
Blood on his sleeve.
Mason stood beside the table.
Thomas was gone.
A hidden service door behind the bookcase stood open.
“Jack!”
Emily dropped beside him.
“Arm,” he grunted. “Just the arm.”
Mason grabbed his jacket.
Emily looked up.
“You’re not going after him.”
“Yes.”
“You’re still recovering.”
“He killed my father.”
“And he’ll kill you.”
Mason stopped.
For one second, rage and reason fought across his face.
Then Jack spoke through clenched teeth.
“She’s right.”
Mason looked toward the passage.
Sirens sounded beyond the estate.
Thomas had planned his escape.
Jack’s team flooded the grounds.
A car exploded near the west gate.
Diversion.
Thomas disappeared.
By midnight, Jack was stitched up.
The bullet had passed through muscle.
“Apparently shoulders are fashionable,” Jack muttered.
Emily sat beside him.
Mason stood at the window.
Thomas’s confession had been recorded.
Enough for betrayal.
Enough for conspiracy.
Perhaps enough for murder.
But Thomas knew every weakness in Mason’s organization.
Every safe house.
Every account.
Every loyal soldier.
The war was not over.
Jack received a call.
His face hardened.
“He took Daniel Price.”
Mason turned.
Price had regained consciousness hours earlier and was being transferred secretly.
Thomas intercepted the vehicle.
Emily stood.
“Why Daniel?”
Jack answered.
“Because Daniel knows where the original ledger is.”
Emily frowned.
“I thought we had it.”
“Copies.”
Mason looked toward the docks.
“The original contains everything.”
Thomas needed it destroyed.
Mason grabbed his coat.
This time Emily did not tell him to stay.
She simply took her own.
Mason looked at her.
“No.”
She raised a hand.
“I know. Dangerous. Dying. Future. All your favorite arguments.”
“This isn’t a joke.”
“I know where my mother marked the Everline documents.”
“What?”
Emily pulled Lorraine’s notebook from her bag.
On the final page was a hand-drawn symbol.
A crow beside the number 17.
The same crow symbol appeared repeatedly in the dock ledger.
Jack stared.
“CROW wasn’t Crane.”
Emily shook her head.
“It was my mother’s whistleblower code.”
Mason took the notebook.
“Seventeen?”
“Pier Seventeen.”
Jack checked a map.
An abandoned customs building sat there.
Mason’s eyes hardened.
“That’s where Thomas is going.”
Emily looked at him.
“And where Daniel is.”
Mason handed her the notebook.
“You stay in the armored car.”
She started to argue.
He took her hand.
That stopped her.
“Please.”
It was the first time she had ever heard Mason Vale say that word.
Emily nodded.
“Fine.”
They left the estate at twelve-forty.
Rain began falling over New York.
At Pier Seventeen, an old customs warehouse waited in darkness.
Inside, Thomas Rourke was preparing to burn seventeen years of secrets.
May you like
And tied to a chair beside him was the one man who could prove everything.
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