Chapter 11 - THE OLD THEATER
Z
The Harborlight Theater had been beautiful once.
Norah could see it beneath the decay.
Faded gold balconies.
Red velvet seats coated in dust.
A cracked ceiling painted with angels.
Her father would have hated the neglected woodwork.
That thought steadied her.
“You’re squeezing my hand.”
Norah looked down.
At some point, she had grabbed Luca.
She let go.
“Sorry.”
“I didn’t complain.”
They entered through the stage door at 9:03 p.m.
Luca wore no visible weapon.
That meant absolutely nothing.
Norah carried the ledger inside a leather satchel.
Also meaningless.
The real ledger was locked in an evidence vault controlled by Alvarez.
The book Norah carried was a duplicate so precise even Graham had struggled to distinguish it.
Elena waited onstage.
Beside her stood Victoria.
Alive.
No restraints.
No gun against her head.
Norah stopped.
“You weren’t kidnapped.”
Victoria looked ashamed.
“No.”
“You left the note in your car?”
“Yes.”
Norah inhaled slowly.
“I spent six hours thinking somebody murdered you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You keep saying that.”
Elena stepped forward.
“We needed Arthur to believe Victoria had defected.”
“So everyone lies.”
“In this family? Constantly.”
Luca scanned the balconies.
“Where is he?”
“He’ll come.”
“You’re sure?”
Elena looked toward Norah.
“He wants her.”
“Why?”
“Because Samuel made one final copy.”
Norah’s stomach tightened.
“Of what?”
“The digital archive.”
“That makes no sense. Seventeen years ago—”
“Not digital files.”
Elena shook her head.
“Microfilm.”
Norah remembered the old pedestal.
The hidden cassette.
Her father’s habit of keeping backups.
“Where?”
“We think Samuel encoded its location into one of his exhibition designs.”
Luca looked at Norah.
“Arthur thinks she can decode it.”
“Yes.”
Norah laughed softly.
“Apparently my entire childhood was vocational training for this nightmare.”
A cane struck wood in the darkness.
Once.
Twice.
Then Arthur Hale walked onto the balcony.
He was thin but upright.
White hair combed perfectly back.
A man stood on either side of him.
He looked nothing like a monster.
That seemed appropriate.
“Norah Bennett.”
His voice carried through the theater.
“You have your father’s eyes.”
Norah’s nails dug into her palms.
“You had him killed.”
“I gave an instruction.”
“You murdered him.”
“I protected an enterprise.”
Luca stepped forward.
Arthur smiled.
“Antonio’s son.”
“Come down.”
“No.”
“Afraid?”
“I survived eighty-seven years by understanding the difference between courage and stupidity.”
Norah raised the satchel.
“You wanted the ledger.”
“Yes.”
“What happens after you get it?”
“You tell me where Samuel hid the final archive.”
“And my mother?”
“Untouched.”
“Elena?”
“Her choices are no longer my concern.”
Graham emerged from a side aisle.
Arthur’s expression changed.
For the first time.
“Graham.”
“Hello, Arthur.”
“You disappointed me.”
“I learned from you.”
The old man sighed.
“Sentiment makes men weak.”
Graham looked toward Elena.
“So does believing your children are expendable.”
Norah glanced at Luca.
His attention never left Arthur.
“Where is Salvatore in all this?” Luca asked.
Arthur laughed.
“Still alive? Remarkable.”
“You ordered Antonio’s death.”
“Yes.”
The answer came easily.
Luca’s breathing changed.
Norah moved closer to him.
Arthur continued.
“Your father wanted to become righteous after spending half his life benefiting from the same system he suddenly condemned.”
“He tried to stop you.”
“And failed.”
Luca stepped forward.
Norah caught his sleeve.
Arthur smiled wider.
“That temper. Antonio had it too.”
Norah raised her voice.
“You wanted me here.”
Arthur looked at her.
“Very much.”
“Then stop talking to him.”
Luca turned.
“Norah.”
She ignored him.
“Tell me what my father built.”
Arthur studied her.
“Six months before he died, Samuel designed a traveling exhibit for Harborlight called Children of the City.”
Norah remembered.
Photographs.
She had helped paint pieces of it at fifteen.
Her breath caught.
“The miniature skyline.”
Arthur’s eyes brightened.
“Yes.”
That was it.
Samuel had built a scale model of Chicago with illuminated buildings.
The exhibit had toured schools.
After his death, it disappeared into storage.
Norah whispered, “Where is it?”
Arthur smiled.
“Under your feet.”
She stared at the stage.
Of course.
The original Harborlight Theater.
Storage.
Arthur tapped his cane.
“Find the archive.”
“And then?”
“Then perhaps everyone leaves.”
Nobody believed him.
Norah knelt.
Her father had taught her something important about hidden compartments.
Never begin by looking for the door.
Look for the reason something is slightly wrong.
She examined the stage.
Dust everywhere.
Except one narrow line.
“Four inches.”
Luca heard her.
Again.
They shifted an old scenery flat.
Behind it was a trapdoor.
Beneath the stage sat the miniature Chicago skyline.
Covered in canvas.
Norah pulled the cloth away.
Seventeen years vanished.
She could almost see her father laughing while she painted tiny windows badly.
“Which building?” Elena asked.
Norah looked across the model.
Her father wouldn’t hide it in the obvious place.
Not the tallest.
Not the most important.
Her eyes landed on a tiny museum.
The building stood four inches from its original base markings.
Norah almost smiled.
“Dad.”
She lifted it.
A film canister rested underneath.
Arthur’s voice sharpened.
“Bring it to me.”
Luca moved between Norah and the balcony.
“No.”
Arthur raised one hand.
Red laser dots appeared across Luca’s chest.
Snipers.
Norah froze.
Arthur smiled.
“Give me the film.”
Norah held it.
Then noticed something scratched into the lid.
SAMUEL BENNETT’S INITIALS.
And beneath them:
BURN AFTER COPYING.
She looked at Arthur.
“You spent seventeen years looking for this?”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“You should have paid more attention to my father.”
Then she opened the canister.
It was empty.
Arthur’s smile disappeared.
Norah turned it upside down.
A tiny folded strip of paper fell out.
One sentence.
May you like
THE COPY WENT TO ANTONIO.
Every head turned toward Luca.
