Chapter 6 - The Fall of the Architect
A streak of fire seemed to graze Spencer’s shoulder as he lunged sideways behind a massive marble pillar. The bullet chipped off a shard of stone, sending dust rain down into his eyes.
Before Arthur could rack the slide to fire a second time, a heavy iron frying pan struck him square across the side of the face with a sickening CRACK.
Mrs. Mabel had crept up the back servant’s stairs behind the balcony, wielding the heavy cast-iron pan with all the rage of thirty years of suppressed guilt.
Arthur stumbled backward, roaring in pain, dropping the silver pistol. It bounced off the carpeted balcony floor and plunged down into the foyer below.
In the confusion, Charlee squirmed out of Arthur’s loosened grip, grabbing baby Dexter’s blue blanket with both hands as Arthur fell against the brass railing.
"Charlee! Run!" Spencer shouted, scrambling out from behind the pillar and bounding up the stairs three at a time.
Arthur groaned, pushing Mrs. Mabel violently to the floor, and reached into his coat for a backup pocket knife. But as he turned to grab Charlee again, Spencer reached the top of the landing.
Spencer didn't hesitate. He grabbed Arthur by the lapels of his expensive wool coat, slamming him back against the heavy brass railing of the balcony.
"Thirty years of betraying my family ends tonight, Arthur," Spencer growled into his face.
Arthur spat blood onto Spencer’s cheek, his eyes wild with desperate fury. "You can't prove anything! The files are encrypted! My lawyers will have me out in an hour!"
"They won't have to," Spencer said coldly, glancing down over Arthur’s shoulder.
Standing in the foyer below were four armed police officers and Detective Vance (no relation), who had arrived at the front gates thirty seconds earlier after Mrs. Mabel had secretly tripped the silent panic alarm in the kitchen before retrieving her pan.
"Arthur Vance," Detective Vance’s voice boomed from the foyer, his service weapon pointed straight up at the balcony. "Keep your hands where we can see them! You are under arrest for attempted murder, kidnapping, and treasonous fraud!"
Arthur looked down at the tactical laser red dots floating on his chest. Slowly, the fight left his body. His arms went limp, the pocket knife clattering onto the hardwood floor.
Spencer shoved him away, letting the officers rush up the stairs to bind Arthur’s hands in heavy steel cuffs.
Spencer didn't watch Arthur being dragged away. He turned around instantly and dropped to his knees in front of Charlee, who was sitting on the carpet near the linen closet, holding baby Dexter tight against her chest.
"Are you okay?" Spencer asked, his voice shaking as he reached out, gently checking her arms and face for any injuries. "Did he hurt you?"
Charlee shook her head. She was pale, her little hands shivering, but she looked up at Spencer with her clear, intelligent eyes.
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"Dexter didn't cry," she whispered, looking down at the sleeping baby wrapped in his blue blanket. "I held his ears so he wouldn't hear the loud noise."
Spencer pulled both of them into his arms, wrapping his long coat around them, burying his face in Charlee’s rain-scented hair. For the first time in thirty-five years, the cold, unyielding wall around Spencer Warren’s heart completely shattered.
