Chapter 7 - The Mausoleum Gambit
I didn't waste a single second. I ran back into the master bedroom closet, falling to my knees on the bare wood floor where the blue box had sat. I ran my fingers along the edges of the oak planks until I felt a slight, imperceptible give in one of the shorter boards near the back wall.
Using the same screwdriver I had used on the box, I pried the board up. With a sharp groan of protesting wood, the plank lifted, revealing a dark, dusty cavity between the joists.
I reached inside, my fingers brushing against cold metal. I pulled out a heavy, ornate brass key wrapped in a piece of velvet cloth. Etched into the handle of the key were the initials A.V.—Arthur Vance.
This was the key to the Vance family mausoleum at Oakwood Cemetery.
I called Nora immediately, my voice electric with adrenaline. "I have the key, Nora. Caroline hid it. She gave it to me via a recording from the hospital. The ledger is inside Arthur’s vault, and I’m going to get it."
"David, wait," Nora said, her voice filled with panic. "It’s 10:00 PM. The cemetery is closed. It’s surrounded by high walls, and Evelyn has security patrols there. If you get caught, Sterling will use it to paint you as a crazed criminal. The family court judge will sign the custody order tonight if you're arrested for grave robbing!"
"If I wait until Friday, Evelyn wins, Nora," I said, my voice hardening. "She’s already destroyed the crime scene at the house. She’s heavily sedating Caroline to keep her quiet. This is the only play left. Meet me at the cemetery gates in an hour with whatever legal leverage you can muster. If I find that ledger, I need a lawyer ready to hand it directly to the federal authorities before Evelyn can buy them off."
"David—"
I hung up before she could argue further. I drove to the hotel safe house, picked up Maya—who had agreed to accompany me—and drove toward Oakwood Cemetery, the ancient, sprawling graveyard located in the heart of historic Raleigh.
The cemetery was surrounded by a massive stone wall topped with wrought-iron spikes. The giant iron gates were locked with a heavy chain. The moon was high and bright, casting long, skeletal shadows from the weeping willows and massive marble monuments.
Maya looked through the window, her face pale but resolute. "Arthur’s mausoleum is in the oldest section, near the back ridge overlooking the ravine. Evelyn picked it because it was private. She always hated the idea of people looking at her, even in death."
We slipped out of the SUV, leaving the lights off. I carried a heavy flashlight and a crowbar, just in case the key wasn't enough. We climbed the stone wall where a low-hanging oak branch provided leverage, dropping silently onto the damp grass inside the cemetery.
The silence of the graveyard was deafening. Every snap of a twig beneath our boots sounded like a gunshot. We navigated through the rows of obelisks and stone angels, following Maya’s lead.
After ten minutes of walking, the Vance mausoleum loomed out of the darkness. It was a massive, neoclassical structure made of white granite, flanked by two stone lions. The name VANCE was carved in deep, imposing letters above the heavy bronze double doors.
I stepped up to the doors, my hands shaking as I pulled out the brass key. I inserted it into the ancient lock. It turned with a heavy, metallic click that echoed through the quiet night.
I pushed the doors open. The air inside was freezing, smelling of stagnant water and cold marble. My flashlight beam cut through the darkness, illuminating the rows of stone vaults built into the walls. Arthur Vance’s vault was in the center, a massive marble slab with his name and dates of birth and death etched in gold leaf.
"How do we open it?" I whispered.
"The ledger isn't behind the marble slab," Maya said, walking toward the back of the mausoleum where a stone altar stood. "Arthur was paranoid. He didn't want anyone to find it if the vault was vandalized. Look under the altar base."
I knelt down, shining the light beneath the heavy stone structure. There was a small, square bronze panel set into the granite floor, secured by a modern digital keypad lock.
My heart sank. "A keypad? Caroline didn't give me a code."
"Try the date," Maya said, her voice trembling. "Not his death date. The date they took me away. October 14, 2008."
I quickly punched in the numbers: 1-0-1-4-0-8.
The keypad beeped twice, and with a soft, hydraulic hiss, the bronze panel clicked open.
Inside lay a thick, leather-bound book wrapped in protective plastic, along with a stack of modern flash drives. I reached in and pulled it out. I opened the ledger to a random page. It was filled with columns of names, dates, case numbers, and financial figures detailing millions of dollars funneled through offshore accounts linked to private prison corporations.
It was the definitive proof of Arthur Vance’s corruption—and Evelyn’s complicity.
"We got it," I breathed, closing the book.
"You certainly did," a voice said from the entrance of the mausoleum.
May you like
I snapped the flashlight toward the door. Standing in the threshold, illuminated by the moonlight, was Richard Sterling. Behind him were two large, burly men in tactical security uniforms.
And standing between them, holding a small, silver pistol, was Evelyn Vance.
