Chapter 4 - THE GRAND CENTRAL VAULTAn hour later, John’s car pulled up outside the cavernous, echoing halls of Grand Central Terminal. The holiday rush had thinned out, leaving the historic station filled with echoing footsteps and the faint scent of roasted chestnuts.
Following the numbers down to the lower-level lockers, John found row 40.
Locker 408.
With trembling fingers, John pulled the brass key from his pocket and slid it into the heavy iron lock. It turned with a satisfying, mechanical click.
He pulled the metal door open.
Inside sat a thick, leather-bound binder stamped with the confidential seal of Blackwell Industries, alongside a digital flash drive and a handwritten letter addressed in Helen’s familiar, elegant cursive.
John pulled the letter out, unfolding the crisp paper.
“My dearest John, If you are reading this, it means I didn't make it. And it means you finally found out that the empire you built is standing on a foundation of sand. Project Phoenix isn't an R&D project. It’s a toxic waste disposal bypass executed across three major municipal water systems by Julian Vance and his associates to pad our quarterly profits by four hundred million dollars. When I discovered it six months ago, I tried to bring it to the board. They silenced me. They threatened my life—and they threatened yours. Julian is not your friend, John. He is the cancer eating your company alive. Use the evidence in this drive to take him down, and please... finish what I started. Forever yours, Helen.”
The paper slipped from John’s fingers, fluttering down onto the cold concrete floor of the terminal.
May you like
Helen hadn't died in a simple car accident.
She had been murdered.
