Chapter 2 - THE SILVER WATCH
Adrian Vale did not walk fast.
Men who rushed were men who were reacting to their environment, and Adrian had spent the last fifteen years ensuring he was the one controlling it.
He walked down the long, carpeted hallway of his Lake Forest estate with measured, silent steps. The heavy oak doors of the security and surveillance room sat at the end of the corridor.
When Adrian pushed the door open, his head of surveillance, David, was staring at a glowing monitor.
The room was cool, humming with the sound of server towers.
David stood up immediately. “Mr. Vale.”
“Show it to me,” Adrian said, his voice flat.
David didn’t ask questions. He clicked a few keys on his keyboard.
The center monitor pulled up a high-definition, black-and-white feed from the estate’s basement. The timestamp in the corner read 5:38 AM.
Adrian watched the screen.
Nora walked into the frame, carrying a basket of folded linens. She looked tired, her shoulders slumped in the quiet solitude of the early morning.
Then, she stopped dead in her tracks.
The camera angle was positioned near the ceiling, looking down the narrow aisle between the massive industrial boilers and the storage racks.
At the end of the aisle, Thomas Rourke was kneeling on the concrete floor.
He was using a crowbar to pry open a heavy steel grate that covered the old drainage system.
Adrian’s eyes narrowed. That grate hadn't been opened in a decade.
On the screen, Nora took a step backward, trying to retreat before she was noticed. Her heel bumped a metal bucket.
Thomas whipped around.
Even without audio, the violent shift in the air was palpable.
Thomas dropped the crowbar. He closed the distance between them in three massive strides. Nora dropped the laundry basket, raising her hands to apologize.
Thomas didn't listen.
He grabbed her by the throat, shoving her hard against the brick wall.
Adrian’s jaw locked. His hands curled into fists at his sides.
On the screen, Thomas leaned in, saying something to Nora. She was terrified, shaking her head frantically.
Then, Thomas grabbed her left hand.
He dragged her toward the massive, exposed steam pipe that fed the upper floors.
Nora fought him, her feet kicking against the concrete, but Thomas was too strong. He forced her palm directly onto the scalding iron pipe, holding it there for three agonizing seconds.
Nora’s mouth opened in a silent, horrific scream.
Thomas let her go. She collapsed to the floor, cradling her blistering hand against her chest.
Thomas pointed a finger in her face, issuing a final warning, and then stormed out of the frame.
“Pause it,” Adrian commanded.
David froze the frame.
Adrian stared at the screen. The rage simmering in his chest was a quiet, cold thing. Thomas had laid hands on a civilian. An innocent employee. In Adrian’s house.
But Adrian’s eyes drifted away from Nora’s huddled form.
He looked at the floor near the open steel grate.
“Zoom in on the grate,” Adrian said. “Right before Thomas grabbed her.”
David zoomed in.
When Thomas had whipped around to face Nora, his jacket pocket had swung wide. Something had slipped out and landed on the concrete floor, rolling into the shadows near the edge of the open drain.
“Can you enhance that?” Adrian asked.
David typed for a second. The blurry shape sharpened.
It was a heavy, silver watch.
Adrian stopped breathing.
He recognized the etched pattern on the metal band even in black and white. It was a vintage Patek Philippe.
It belonged to his older brother, Julian.
Julian had died three weeks ago. The police said it was a carjacking gone wrong in downtown Chicago. His wallet and his watch were missing when they found his body.
“Erase this footage,” Adrian said, turning toward the door. “Keep a backup on a secure drive and give it directly to me. Say nothing to Thomas.”
Adrian left the security room.
He didn’t go back to the breakfast room. He went straight to the basement.
The air was damp and smelled of bleach and old iron.
He walked down the narrow aisle, finding the exact spot where Nora had been tortured. He looked at the floor.
The steel grate had been placed back over the drain.
Adrian knelt, ignoring the dust on his expensive suit, and lifted the heavy iron cover.
He reached into the dark, dry alcove beneath it.
His fingers brushed against cold metal.
He pulled it out.
It was Julian’s silver watch.
The dial was cracked. The silver was scratched. But it was undeniably his brother’s.
Adrian’s mind raced. Thomas didn’t just assault a maid to keep a secret. Thomas was involved in the murder of the only family Adrian had left.
Adrian turned the watch over in his hand. The back casing felt loose.
He pressed his thumb against the edge and twisted. The metal backing popped off.
A small, folded piece of thick yellow paper fell into his palm.
It was a baggage ticket from Chicago Union Station.
Adrian stared at it. Julian had hidden a baggage ticket inside his watch, and Thomas had killed him for it.
Before Adrian could process the discovery, the unmistakable sound of a gun hammer clicking back echoed in the silent basement.
“You shouldn’t be down here, Adrian.”
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Adrian slowly turned around.
Thomas Rourke was standing ten feet away, pointing a suppressed pistol directly at Adrian’s chest.
