Chapter 5 - THE SECRET SEWN INTO THE WALL
Avery drove to the warehouse the next morning.
Gabriel offered to accompany her.
She refused.
“I need to do this myself.”
He nodded.
“Then I'll make sure you have access to whatever records you need.”
She looked at him.
“Not guards?”
“Not unless you ask.”
For the first time, she smiled.
“Thank you.”
The warehouse smelled of salt, old wood, and machine oil.
Avery remembered visiting as a child.
Her grandfather used to sit near the windows, sewing canvas by hand.
He told stories about ships.
About storms.
About men who believed they owned the sea.
She walked toward the eastern wall.
It was lined with wooden storage cabinets.
Behind them, the brickwork looked different.
Newer.
She ran her fingers over the mortar.
Then noticed a small brass plate near the floor.
A.H. 1987.
Arthur Hale.
The year he'd renovated the warehouse.
Avery knelt.
The plate concealed a narrow compartment.
Inside was a tin box.
Her hands trembled as she opened it.
The box contained photographs.
Property surveys.
Copies of letters.
And a small leather notebook.
The first page carried her grandfather's handwriting.
If anyone tries to take this place, remember that the land is only half the story.
Avery turned the page.
There were names.
Dates.
Shipping companies.
Payment references.
And a series of notes about containers that had arrived at the harbor decades earlier.
Some entries suggested workers had been paid to conceal hazardous materials and falsify inspection records.
Others referenced injuries that had never been officially reported.
Avery stared.
Her grandfather hadn't simply owned valuable land.
He'd been documenting wrongdoing.
She called Gabriel.
He answered immediately.
“Avery?”
“I found something.”
“What?”
“Records.”
“About the land?”
“About the harbor.”
Silence.
Then he asked:
“Where are you?”
“At the warehouse.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
He took a breath.
“Avery, don't move anything else. We need to preserve what you found properly.”
She looked around.
“Gabriel?”
“Yes?”
“Why would someone want these records hidden?”
His answer came quietly.
“Because they might expose people who are still powerful.”
As she ended the call, she heard a noise outside.
A car door.
Then footsteps.
Avery turned toward the warehouse entrance.
A man stood in the doorway.
Marcus Vale.
He smiled.
“Mrs. Rook.”
May you like
Her blood ran cold.
“I was hoping we'd find you here.”
