Chapter 5 - The Host Behind the Champagne Glass
Sebastian Blackthorn did not run.
He stood at the edge of the stage wearing the same tuxedo from the gala.
Detective Ruiz reached for her weapon.
Sebastian lifted both hands.
“I came to explain.”
Elena laughed bitterly.
“People keep saying that right before my life gets worse.”
Dante stepped between them.
“Start talking.”
Sebastian looked older now.
The polished host had disappeared.
“I knew Arthur.”
“We gathered that,” Dante said.
“I also knew Victor Calder.”
“How well?”
“Well enough to regret it.”
Twenty-two years earlier, Sebastian had been drowning in debt.
Blackthorn Manor was nearly bankrupt.
Victor offered money in exchange for access to Salvatore Moretti’s private business records.
Sebastian agreed.
He told himself it was harmless.
It was not.
Victor used information stolen from Blackthorn to blackmail Salvatore.
Then he forged the theater transaction.
Arthur discovered Sebastian’s involvement.
“That recording was made the night Arthur confronted me,” Sebastian said.
Elena’s fists tightened.
“You threatened him.”
“I begged him to stay quiet.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor threatened my wife.”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“Everyone seems to have had a reason to betray Arthur.”
Sebastian lowered his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No.”
“Did Salvatore?”
“No.”
Elena stepped forward.
“How can you know?”
“Because I saw Arthur after Salvatore left.”
Sebastian described the night.
Arthur and Salvatore argued.
Salvatore wanted Arthur to disappear temporarily while they gathered evidence.
Arthur refused.
After Salvatore left, Sebastian tried once more to persuade Arthur to abandon the fight.
Arthur left carrying the metal tube.
Sebastian followed him.
Not to hurt him.
To warn him.
“A black sedan followed Arthur’s car.”
“Victor?” Ruiz asked.
“I assumed so.”
“License plate?”
Sebastian gave it.
Ruiz wrote it down.
Dante looked at Sebastian.
“Why wait twenty-two years?”
“Cowardice.”
At least he did not disguise it.
Sebastian had spent decades quietly buying back pieces of Calder-controlled property, hoping someday to repair what he had helped destroy.
That was why the concerto was performed at Blackthorn Manor.
He had placed the manuscript there intentionally.
“You wanted someone to recognize it,” Elena said.
“I wanted you to recognize it.”
Her blood chilled.
“You knew I worked there.”
“I hired you.”
Elena stared.
Mrs. Greaves had told her the position opened unexpectedly.
Sebastian had arranged everything.
“You manipulated me.”
“Yes.”
“Why not just tell me?”
“Because I didn’t know whom I could trust.”
“You could have trusted me with my own life.”
Sebastian had no answer.
Ruiz interrupted.
The license plate had produced a result.
The sedan belonged to Calder Security.
Its assigned driver on the night Arthur died was a man named Frank Mercer.
Alive.
Living under another name in Pennsylvania.
Ruiz arranged to bring him in.
But before she could finish, Elena’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Miss Vale?”
An elderly male voice.
“Yes?”
“My name is Frank Mercer.”
Everyone froze.
“How did you get this number?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Ruiz gestured for Elena to keep him talking.
Mercer sounded frightened.
“I heard Arthur’s music tonight.”
Elena swallowed.
“You were following my father.”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
A long silence.
“Your father wasn’t alone when his car went over that ridge.”
Elena gripped the phone.
“What does that mean?”
“There was someone in the passenger seat.”
“Who?”
“I never saw the face.”
“Then why call me?”
“Because I saw that person climb out after the crash.”
Elena’s heart hammered.
“My father died instantly.”
“Arthur did.”
“And the passenger?”
“Survived.”
Mercer began breathing faster.
“I kept something from the wreck.”
“What?”
“A locket.”
Elena touched her neck instinctively.
Her mother had owned one.
Her mother, Claire, had supposedly died when Elena was four.
“Describe it.”
“Silver. Oval. Initials C.V.”
The world tilted.
Claire Vale.
Elena sat down.
“My mother was dead before my father’s accident.”
“No,” Mercer whispered.
“She wasn’t.”
The line crackled.
Then Mercer said something even worse.
“I know where Claire Vale is.”
A sound exploded through the phone.
Glass breaking.
Mercer gasped.
Ruiz shouted, “Frank?”
Silence.
Then a different voice came through.
Male.
Calm.
May you like
“Tell Elena to stop digging.”
The call ended.
