Chapter 24 - The Northern Book
Harrison had never needed the key.
He needed us to find the room.
That realization was almost worse.
“He used Bianca.”
Fiona stood in the foundry vault photographing the empty chest.
“He allowed her to steal the key because he knew she would bring it to you.”
Bianca’s face drained white.
“He knew?”
“He expected betrayal.”
Arthur, brought to the foundry under police supervision, gave a bleak laugh.
“That sounds like Harrison.”
Logan crouched near the chest.
“Wait.”
He ran his fingers along the inside edge.
“There’s something wrong.”
“What?”
“The base is too thick.”
He removed a small pocket tool and pressed it between two iron plates.
A hidden panel shifted.
Inside lay a folded piece of oilcloth.
My breath stopped.
Logan lifted it carefully.
No ledger.
Only a handwritten note.
The paper was yellowed with age.
**If the first chamber is breached, seek the bell that never rings.**
I stared at it.
“That sounds like my grandfather.”
Alistair nodded.
“He built contingencies inside contingencies.”
Logan smiled faintly.
“I think Angus helped him.”
“The bell that never rings,” Fiona repeated.
Lily spoke from behind us.
Everyone turned.
She was standing at the vault entrance beside a police officer.
I nearly lost my mind.
“Lily!”
“The officer said I could come down if I stayed behind the tape.”
Fiona looked guilty.
I would deal with that later.
Lily pointed toward the note.
“There’s a bell at Linlithgow Palace that doesn’t ring.”
Logan frowned.
“What bell?”
“The carved stone one.”
My daughter walked closer.
“We studied it for history class. It’s above one of the old passage entrances. It looks like a bell, but it’s decorative.”
Noah appeared behind her.
“Lily said treasure hunt.”
“Noah!”
“What? I stayed with the policeman.”
Despite everything, Arthur laughed.
It was the first human sound I had ever heard from him.
Within forty minutes, Fiona had secured the relevant section of Linlithgow Palace with heritage authorities.
We arrived after dark.
Portable lamps washed the ruined stone walls in pale white light.
Rain blew across the courtyard.
Lily had been correct.
Above an old service passage stood a carved stone bell.
Logan climbed a short inspection platform and examined the surrounding masonry.
“One stone has been reset.”
Heritage specialists removed it.
Behind the block was a narrow cavity.
Inside rested a leather package wrapped in wax cloth.
Alistair’s hands trembled when he opened it.
The Northern Book.
Hundreds of handwritten entries.
Dates.
Payments.
Property transfers.
Account numbers.
Initials.
Signatures.
The North Atlantic Development Partnership had moved stolen public money through Edinburgh, Glasgow, Dublin, Boston, Halifax, and London for decades.
Some names belonged to men long dead.
Others did not.
One belonged to a sitting corporate chairman in Boston.
Another to the founder of a major private hospital network.
A third belonged to Harrison Vance’s late father.
And on the final page was a handwritten declaration signed by Douglas Ashford and Angus Craig.
They had preserved the evidence together.
Not for wealth.
For prosecution.
“We need copies in three jurisdictions tonight,” Fiona said.
“We also need armed transport.”
Bianca suddenly stepped toward the entrance.
“What is it?” I asked.
She stared into the darkness outside.
A red light had appeared on one of the castle walls.
Small.
Steady.
Laser-like.
Logan saw it a second later.
“Down!”
He pulled me behind a stone pillar.
Glass shattered.
One of the portable lamps exploded.
Police shouted.
Officers drew weapons and rushed toward the outer courtyard.
The ledger fell from Alistair’s hands.
Arthur grabbed it.
For half a second, everyone froze.
Then Arthur ran.
“Arthur!” Bianca screamed.
He disappeared through the passage carrying the Northern Book.
Fiona swore and followed.
Bianca went after them.
Logan held me back.
Another crash echoed through the ruins.
Then a car engine roared somewhere beyond the wall.
By the time police reached the road, a dark vehicle was already disappearing toward Edinburgh.
Arthur was gone.
Bianca was gone.
The ledger was gone.
Fiona’s radio crackled.
An officer shouted from the gate.
They had found a phone dropped near the road.
On its screen was an incoming message.
From Harrison.
May you like
**Bring me the book and Claire Ashford lives.**
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