Chapter 9 - BENEATH ST. CATHERINE’S
-9
There were three private hospitals within fifty miles connected to Dr. Theodore Voss.
Only one sat beside water.
St. Catherine’s Neurological Institute.
A prestigious rehabilitation facility built on the edge of an abandoned hydroelectric canal.
Chadworth had donated eleven million dollars to it.
The irony made him physically ill.
“You’re not going,” Marcus said.
They stood inside Chadworth’s private office.
The girls were now inside the mansion’s reinforced safe room with Rosamund and two guards Marcus personally selected.
Edmund was contacting a federal prosecutor he trusted.
Chadworth changed his jacket.
“Yes, I am.”
“If St. Catherine’s is part of the network, walking through the front door gives them exactly what they want.”
“I’m not walking through the front door.”
Marcus stared.
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“I know that expression.”
“What expression?”
“The one where billionaires believe owning a helicopter means basic tactical rules no longer apply.”
Despite everything, Chadworth almost smiled.
“I’m not taking the helicopter.”
“Good.”
“I’m taking Evelyn’s route.”
Marcus frowned.
Chadworth opened one of her folders.
Inside was an old map of St. Catherine’s.
A maintenance tunnel ran beneath the hydroelectric canal into the hospital’s original basement.
Evelyn had circled it.
Rosamund entered.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“My brother may be inside.”
“And my daughters need you.”
She stopped.
That was the only argument Chadworth knew would work.
Rosamund looked toward the safe-room corridor.
“Bring him back.”
“If he’s there.”
“He’s there.”
Her certainty was almost painful.
Chadworth nodded.
“I’ll bring him back.”
Marcus selected only one other guard.
No radios connected to the mansion system.
No official vehicles.
Edmund stayed behind with the girls.
Forty minutes later, Chadworth stood beneath an old railway bridge half a mile from St. Catherine’s.
Rain had intensified.
The hospital glowed above the canal like a white fortress.
Marcus led them toward a drainage structure hidden behind overgrown brush.
The grate had recently been cut.
Someone was using the tunnel.
Inside, the smell of rust and stagnant water filled the passage.
They walked for almost ten minutes.
Then they found the first camera.
Marcus disabled it.
Farther ahead, they reached a locked maintenance door.
The guard opened it electronically.
Beyond it was a corridor.
Modern.
Clean.
Completely different from the abandoned tunnel.
Chadworth felt a chill.
“This area isn’t abandoned.”
“No,” Marcus whispered.
They heard a cart rolling somewhere ahead.
Marcus signaled them into an empty room.
Through the partially open door, a nurse pushed a medication cart past.
No hospital logo.
No identification.
Only a gray uniform.
When the corridor cleared, they continued.
Rooms lined both sides.
Each had electronic locks.
Chadworth looked through a narrow window.
An elderly man slept inside.
Another room held a woman staring blankly at a television.
“Patients?”
Marcus nodded.
“Probably.”
“Why underground?”
“No idea.”
They reached a nursing station.
Patient files sat on a desk.
Chadworth opened the nearest.
The name stunned him.
William Carrington.
A shipping billionaire declared legally incapacitated three years earlier.
The public had been told he was receiving treatment in Switzerland.
He was here.
Underground.
Chadworth opened another.
Elena Marsh.
Real estate heiress.
Missing from public life for five years.
Another.
Thomas Wakefield.
Former chairman of a telecommunications empire.
All wealthy.
All legally incapacitated.
All effectively erased.
“These people are prisoners.”
Marcus’s face hardened.
“They’re assets.”
The word was monstrous.
Chadworth suddenly understood Claire Voss’s business model.
She did not steal estates.
She captured the people who owned them.
A sound came from the next corridor.
They hid.
Dr. Theodore Voss appeared.
He looked much older than Chadworth remembered.
Thin.
Gray.
Walking with a cane.
Beside him was Claire.
Elegant.
Controlled.
Early forties.
Edmund’s former assistant.
She carried a tablet.
“You should have moved them yesterday,” Claire said.
Voss coughed.
“There was no need.”
“Prescott found the archive.”
“That doesn’t mean he understands it.”
“He always understands eventually.”
Voss stopped walking.
“You sound almost admiring.”
“I am.”
Claire smiled.
“That’s why he’s valuable.”
Chadworth’s skin crawled.
Voss continued.
“Sabina?”
“Contained.”
“And Daniel?”
“Still refusing.”
“He’s been refusing for five years.”
“Then perhaps we stop asking.”
Voss looked at her.
“You said he was necessary.”
“He was.”
Claire’s tone became cold.
“Systems evolve.”
They walked away.
Chadworth waited.
Then followed.
At the end of the corridor, Claire entered a secured laboratory.
Voss continued alone.
Marcus whispered, “We need police.”
“No.”
“Chadworth.”
“If police arrive through normal channels, someone warns her.”
“You think she controls law enforcement too?”
“I think anyone who can hide billionaires beneath a hospital controls more than doctors.”
Marcus could not argue.
They moved toward the direction Voss had come from.
A locked door stood at the end.
No window.
Marcus bypassed it.
Inside was darkness.
Then a voice.
“Who’s there?”
Rosamund’s eyes.
That was Chadworth’s first thought when the light illuminated the man strapped to a hospital bed.
Older.
Thin.
Bearded.
But the eyes were unmistakable.
Daniel Harker.
He stared at Chadworth.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Daniel laughed weakly.
“Evelyn finally sent someone.”
Chadworth stepped closer.
“Evelyn is dead.”
Daniel’s smile vanished.
“What?”
“Four years ago.”
Daniel began shaking his head.
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. She was supposed to—”
His voice broke.
He turned away.
Chadworth looked at the restraints.
“We’re getting you out.”
Daniel suddenly grabbed his wrist.
“No.”
“You’ve been imprisoned for five years.”
“If Claire sees me gone, she activates the contingency.”
“What contingency?”
Daniel’s face became terrified.
“The Prescott children.”
Chadworth went cold.
“What about my daughters?”
“They were never just leverage.”
“What does that mean?”
Daniel struggled upright.
“The trust structure requires one biological Prescott descendant to remain under controlled guardianship.”
Chadworth stared.
“Why?”
“So Claire can maintain legal standing after you’re gone.”
“She plans to take custody?”
“No.”
Daniel’s face twisted with horror.
“She plans to give custody to Sabina.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It does if Sabina is legally proven to be Arthur Prescott’s daughter.”
Chadworth thought about the dormant clause.
Family control.
Bloodline.
Guardianship.
Everything was connected.
Daniel whispered:
“Sabina doesn’t need to marry you.”
“Then what does she need?”
“She needs you declared illegitimate.”
May you like
Daniel looked directly into Chadworth’s eyes.
“And she needs one of your daughters to disappear.”
