Chapter 2 - THE SILVER KEY
Julian stood completely still, waiting for his mother’s answer.
Margaret didn’t look at Beatrice.
She kept her eyes locked on her son.
“She knows that the estate doesn’t belong to you, Julian,” Margaret said softly.
The words hung in the air.
I watched Julian’s brow furrow. “What are you talking about? Of course it belongs to me. Dad left it to me when he passed.”
Beatrice let out a sharp, mocking laugh.
“Did he?” she sneered. “Did he really, Julian? Or did your mother just tell you that?”
Julian ignored his wife. He stepped closer to the wheelchair.
“Mom, explain.”
Margaret’s trembling hands finally released the wooden cane. She let it rest against her leg and looked up.
“Your father had a second will,” Margaret said. “He drafted it two weeks before he died. He knew Beatrice was spending money faster than the company was bringing it in. He knew she was transferring funds to offshore accounts in her sister’s name.”
Beatrice lunged forward. “Shut up! You crazy old bat!”
Julian caught Beatrice by the arm.
His grip wasn’t violent, but it was absolute.
“Don’t you ever speak to my mother like that again,” his voice was dangerously quiet.
He let go of her arm and turned back to Margaret.
“Where is this second will?” he asked.
“In the east-wing safe,” Margaret replied. “It stipulates that if Beatrice does not sign a post-nuptial agreement returning the stolen funds, the entire estate goes to a charitable trust. She gets nothing.”
I looked at Beatrice.
Her face was pale. The arrogance was entirely gone.
“That’s why she wanted the keys,” I realized aloud.
I hadn’t meant to speak. But it made perfect sense.
Julian looked at me, then back to his wife.
“You were going to destroy the will,” Julian stated. It wasn’t a question.
“Julian, listen to me,” Beatrice stammered, her voice suddenly sweet and desperate. “She’s lying! She’s trying to ruin our marriage! She hates me, you know she does. Let’s just open the safe right now. You’ll see. There’s no will.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“She’s right about one thing, Julian,” Margaret whispered. “You should open the safe.”
Julian nodded. “Where is the key?”
Margaret looked down at her lap.
“I don’t have it.”
Beatrice scoffed loudly. “Of course she doesn’t! It’s another lie!”
“I don’t have it,” Margaret continued, her voice gaining strength, “because I never kept it on a keyring.”
She reached down.
Her thin fingers wrapped around the polished handle of her wooden cane.
With a slow, deliberate motion, she twisted the heavy brass knob at the top.
A sharp click echoed in the quiet foyer.
Margaret pulled the knob upward. The cane was hollow.
And resting inside the hidden compartment was a long, heavy silver key.
Beatrice gasped.
She hadn’t just been trying to get the cane away from Margaret to bully her.
She knew the key was inside it.
Julian stared at the silver key, then looked at his wife.
“Give me your phone, Beatrice,” he demanded.
When she hesitated, he reached into her designer purse and took it himself.
He didn’t look at her messages. He simply turned it off and handed it to me.
“Clara, stay here with my mother,” Julian ordered. “Beatrice. You’re coming with me to the east wing.”
Beatrice refused to move.
May you like
Until Julian pulled a folded piece of paper from Beatrice’s purse.
It was a one-way ticket to Zurich.
