Chapter 6 - The Vault of the Dead
The vault of the Boston Provident Bank was located two floors beneath the street level, accessible only by a secure elevator and protected by a massive, twenty-ton steel door.
Clara stood before the safety deposit boxes, her hands trembling as she handed the silver key to the elderly bank clerk.
"Everything seems to be in order, Mrs. Vance," the clerk said, his voice slow and precise. "Your late husband’s paperwork is valid. You may access box 408."
He inserted the bank's master key, then turned Clara’s silver key. With a heavy, satisfying click, the box slid open.
Inside was a dusty, black leather ledger.
Clara pulled it out, her fingers tracing the worn leather. This was the book her husband had died for.
Suddenly, the heavy security door of the vault lobby hissed open.
Two men in dark suits stepped into the private viewing room, their faces cold and uninviting. One of them was Jimmy, his arm in a sling from the gunshot wound I had given him the night before.
"We’ll take that, Mrs. Vance," Jimmy said, his voice flat as he drew a pistol with his left hand.
Clara backed away, clutching the ledger to her chest. "Get away from me!"
"Don't make this difficult," the other guard said, stepping forward. "There are no cameras in this viewing room. No one will hear a thing."
Before he could reach her, the glass partition behind them shattered.
I stepped through the broken frame, holding Lily tightly with one arm and firing my weapon with the other. The bullet caught the second guard in the chest, sending him crashing into the safety deposit boxes.
Jimmy spun around, but I was already on him. I slammed my forearm against his injured shoulder, making him scream in agony as his gun fell to the floor. I pinned him against the wall, my forearm pressed against his throat.
"Where is Vincent?" I growled.
"He's... he's in the lobby," Jimmy choked out. "He has the police on his payroll. You can't get out of here, Dominic."
"Watch me," I said, and knocked him unconscious with the butt of my gun.
I turned to Clara, who was shaking, holding the ledger like a shield. Lily was crying silently, her face buried in my shoulder.
"We have to go," I said, grabbing Clara’s hand. "The back exit. There’s a service tunnel that leads to the subway line under the street."
"Is this it?" Clara asked, looking at the ledger in her hand. "Is this what killed Arthur?"
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"Yes," I said. "And it’s what's going to save us. Let's move!"
We ran through the heavy metal door at the back of the vault, entering a dark, concrete service tunnel that smelled of damp earth and electrical ozone. Behind us, we could hear the sirens wailing from the street level as the bank's silent alarms finally kicked in.
