Chapter 1 - THE LETTER BENEATH THE FLOOR
The first photograph reached Harrison's secure inbox at 4:17 in the morning.
It showed a hole cut through the east-wing foundation of the Hamptons estate.
In the center of that hole sat a small steel box wrapped in black waterproof tape.
For almost an hour, nobody had touched it.
The search warrant authorized excavation, but the detectives had stopped when a technician found what appeared to be human bone along the edge of the concrete.
I learned all of this from a telephone bolted to the wall of a holding room.
The voice of my attorney sounded as though he had been running.
“Evelyn, they found the box.”
I gripped the receiver until the plastic creaked.
“And Clara?”
“Homicide is treating the remains as potentially hers.”
I closed my eyes.
I had wanted proof, not the confirmation of a woman's lonely death.
Harrison continued before I could speak.
“The box contains a wedding ring and a letter addressed to Arthur.”
“Read it.”
“I haven't seen the whole letter yet.”
“Then tell me what you have seen.”
He hesitated.
“The first line says, ‘If you're reading this, your daughter is next.’”
For a moment, the room slipped away.
My father had never told me he had known Clara.
Yet someone had hidden a message addressed to him inside the very place where Silas had buried her.
“Who opened it?”
“The evidence technician, with two detectives watching and the camera running.”
“Who knows about the warning?”
“There were six people in the room.”
“Make that seven,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because Silas will know before breakfast.”
Harrison said the detectives had secured the estate, suspended all private access, and collected the security servers.
He also said Margaret's admission in court had not been enough to free me.
My sentence still stood.
My conviction still stood.
I could still spend twenty-five years in prison even if the police uncovered evidence of another murder.
That knowledge hurt worse than the handcuffs.
Later that morning, a detention officer placed a folded notice beneath my door.
The state had moved to restrict my confidential calls, citing the risk that I might interfere with a newly opened homicide investigation.
I stared at the signature beneath the motion.
It belonged to Assistant District Attorney Nolan Price, the very prosecutor who had ordered the courtroom sealed.
Then I read the attached summary of my alleged misconduct.
According to the state, I had attempted to coordinate a false witness and manipulate physical evidence.
The witness named in the report was Harrison Hayes.
And the report was filed eleven minutes before the steel box had been opened.
Someone inside the investigation was working for Silas.
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Someone had known exactly what the search would find.
