CHAPTER 5 — THE CAMERA IN THE WALL
Naomi sent a search team upstairs after firefighters cleared the east side of the mansion.
Lily refused to remain in the truck.
“I need to show you where the bedroom is.”
“You need a hospital,” I said.
“And if they miss it?”
“They won’t.”
“Dad, Richard rebuilt that room himself. He knows how to hide things.”
Her voice was weak, but her decision was firm.
An ambulance crew stabilized her ribs and placed a bandage over her lip. Against medical advice, she walked with us into the mansion.
The Easter decorations looked grotesque now.
Pastel ribbons hung beside broken glass.
A stuffed rabbit lay in a puddle of sprinkler water.
Scotch and blood had mixed on the white rug.
Richard watched from the driveway in handcuffs.
His mother had stopped laughing.
Upstairs, Lily led us to a large bedroom overlooking the gardens.
She pointed toward the wall behind the headboard.
“He spent three weeks renovating this section.”
Agents used a thermal scanner.
One area showed an unnatural gap.
They removed the molding and cut through the drywall.
Behind it was a narrow steel compartment.
Inside were four hard drives, a recording unit, and hundreds of photographs.
Naomi lifted one of the pictures.
It showed Lily sleeping.
Another showed her changing clothes.
Another showed her crying on the bathroom floor.
The dates covered nearly two years.
Lily sank onto the edge of the bed.
“He was watching me.”
I felt something inside me turn cold.
Not hot.
Not wild.
Cold enough to think clearly.
Naomi examined the recording device.
“It transmitted to an external server.”
“Can you trace it?”
“We can try.”
An agent connected a forensic computer.
Files began appearing.
Audio recordings.
Medical documents.
Draft affidavits.
Videos of Lily inside the house.
Then a folder labeled:
EPISODES
Inside were carefully edited clips designed to make Lily appear unstable.
In one, Richard provoked her for nearly an hour before filming only the final thirty seconds.
In another, Victoria switched Lily’s medication and recorded the resulting confusion.
They had manufactured evidence for the psychiatric order.
But there was something else.
A live camera feed.
The screen showed a small room with concrete walls.
A man sat tied to a chair beneath a hanging light.
His face was bruised.
A handwritten sign beside him read:
FOR ARTHUR
I recognized him immediately.
Daniel Cross.
My former communications officer.
The man who had answered the satellite phone.
The call had not come from him.
Someone had copied his voice.
The “Code Black” system had been compromised from the beginning.
Naomi looked at me.
“Where is that room?”
The video offered no location.
Then Daniel lifted his head.
He knew the camera was recording.
Slowly, deliberately, he tapped his foot against the floor.
Three taps.
Pause.
Two taps.
Pause.
Four taps.
Old field code.
3-2-4.
I searched my memory.
Facility 324 had been a Nightfall emergency site beneath an abandoned courthouse.
The courthouse in our town had closed ten years ago.
Judge Kessler owned the property.
Naomi ordered a tactical team to prepare.
Then Daniel spoke into the camera.
His voice was almost too faint to hear.
“Arthur… don’t come.”
A shadow moved behind him.
Malcolm Reed stepped into view.
But Reed was still handcuffed outside the mansion.
The man on the screen looked exactly like him.
Same face.
Same silver hair.
Same scar beside the left eye.
The Reed in our custody stared at the screen.
May you like
Then whispered the words that silenced the room.
“That’s my brother.”
