Chapter 8: The Corridor Camera
The estate's security system covered thirty-one cameras.
Gerald pulled up the west corridor footage on the office monitor while Nathaniel and I stood behind him.
Patricia sat to the side, hands folded, watching the screen.
The timestamp read 10:47 PM.
The corridor was empty.
Then Vanessa appeared, walking quickly, phone already at her ear.
She stopped outside the study door.
Her back was to the camera but her body language was unmistakable — shoulders tight, one hand moving in a sharp gesture as she spoke.
There was no audio.
"Can we get audio?" Nathaniel asked.
"The corridor cameras are visual only," Gerald said.
"The study has audio, but she was in the doorway, not inside."
On screen, Vanessa ended the call.
She pushed open the study door and went inside.
Gerald fast-forwarded.
Forty seconds later, a figure appeared at the far end of the corridor.
Me.
Walking slowly, close to the wall.
I watched myself stop six feet from the study door.
I watched the door open.
I watched Vanessa and myself look at each other.
The conversation lasted less than ninety seconds.
Then I turned and walked back toward the ballroom.
Vanessa stood in the corridor for a moment, watching me go.
Then she went back into the study.
Gerald paused the footage.
"She was on the phone before she entered the study," he said.
"The timing matches what Elena described.
The call ended, she went in, forty seconds later Elena arrived."
"Her attorney will say she was calling a friend," Nathaniel said.
"That the phone call proves nothing."
"Her phone records will show who she called," Patricia said.
"We can't compel her phone records without a legal proceeding."
"Then start one," Patricia said simply.
Nathaniel straightened up.
He looked at the frozen image on the screen — Vanessa standing in the corridor doorway, her back to the camera, the study dark behind her.
"Gerald," he said.
"What do we need to preserve the footage?"
"I've already flagged it," Gerald said.
"It's backed up off-site as of twenty minutes ago."
"And the drawer."
"Photographed and documented.
If the drive surfaces anywhere — a disposal site, a secondary device, anywhere — forensics can match it."
Nathaniel nodded slowly.
"She's going to fight this," he said.
It wasn't a question.
"Yes," Gerald said.
"How long?"
"Months.
Possibly longer.
Her family has resources."
Nathaniel was quiet for a moment.
"Elena," he said.
I looked at him.
"I need to ask you something, and I need you to answer honestly."
"All right."
"Last night, in the ballroom.
Before any of this.
Before the folders, before the corridor." He paused.
"Did you know something was wrong?
Before last night, I mean.
In the months before."
I thought about the question carefully.
"I noticed things," I said.
"Small things.
The way she spoke to certain staff members.
The way she moved through the house — like she was already measuring it.
There was a morning in February when I brought coffee to the study and she was at your desk.
Not sitting in the chair across from it.
Behind it.
At your computer."
He was very still.
"I assumed she had permission," I said.
"It wasn't my place to question it."
"What was she doing?"
"I don't know.
She closed the screen when she heard me come in." I paused.
"She told me to knock louder next time."
Gerald made a note.
"Is there anything else?" Nathaniel asked.
I thought about it for a moment.
"In March," I said.
"A man came to the side entrance.
He said he was from the foundation's printing company, picking up some materials.
I let him in because he had a badge.
He went to the study, spent about ten minutes, and left with a box." I paused.
"I never saw him before that day.
I never saw him again."
"Did you get a name?"
"It was on the badge.
I didn't write it down." I looked at him.
"I'm sorry.
I should have."
"You had no reason to," he said.
"I had a feeling," I said.
"I ignored it because it wasn't my place."
The office was quiet.
"It is your place," Nathaniel said.
"It always was."
I didn't know what to do with that sentence, so I didn't say anything.
Outside the window, a car moved slowly down the estate's front drive.
A black sedan.
It stopped at the gate, waited, and then turned out onto the road and disappeared.
May you like
Nobody said anything about it.
But we all watched it go.
