CHAPTER 49: THE BOX WITH TWO KEYS

The metal shutter stopped halfway down, leaving only a narrow opening between the storage unit and the corridor.

Amelia froze, clutching the folder against her chest.

Alexander moved towards the opening but did not rush outside. He glanced through the gap, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever had spoken.

"Who's there?" he called again.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor.

"Stay here," he told Amelia.

She shook her head. "I'm not leaving the evidence behind."

"I'm not asking you to."

Alexander carefully raised the shutter enough to step through. He looked in both directions, but the corridor was empty. At the far end, a door leading towards the loading area was swinging slightly.

Whoever had been there was already gone.

A moment later, the storage manager hurried towards them.

"What happened? I heard someone shouting."

"Someone lowered the shutter while we were inside," Alexander replied. "There was a person outside who told us we were never supposed to find the box."

The manager looked genuinely alarmed.

"That's impossible. This area is restricted. Nobody should have been here."

"Then I suggest you check your access records and security cameras."

The manager nodded quickly.

Amelia stepped into the corridor.

"I want this incident reported. Someone has interfered with our inspection, and we need an official record of what happened."

Alexander looked at her.

"Agreed."

They contacted the police and gave a clear account of the incident. The manager agreed to preserve the security footage and access records. Before leaving, Amelia insisted that the contents of the unit be documented, photographed and listed. She did not want anyone later claiming that something had been removed or altered.

The manager arranged for an inventory to be made under his supervision. Alexander also asked Jonathan to contact the appropriate legal representative so the ownership and preservation of the documents could be handled properly.

Only after everything had been recorded did they return to the small table inside the storage office to examine the folder again.

Amelia turned it over slowly.

"There's something attached to the back."

A small piece of tape held a metal key against the inside cover. She carefully peeled it away.

The key was old, silver-coloured and unusually small. A number had been engraved along its side.

7142.

Alexander examined it.

"Do you recognise it?" Amelia asked.

"Not immediately."

She opened the back cover further. A folded piece of paper had been tucked beneath the lining.

Her father's handwriting was unmistakable.

The truth is not in one place. Trust the second key.

Amelia read it twice.

"The second key?"

Alexander looked at the small metal key.

"Your father expected someone to find this. He may have intended the first key to lead to another location."

"But where?"

"I don't know yet."

They searched the remaining boxes, checking beneath the papers and inside the suitcases. Most contained ordinary belongings: old receipts, photographs, household documents and notebooks. Then Amelia noticed a small wooden container at the bottom of a box.

It was about the size of a jewellery case, with a metal lock at the front.

She lifted it carefully.

"Alexander."

He examined the lock.

"There's no keyhole for the one we found."

Amelia turned the container over. A small number had been scratched into the bottom, but it was too faded to read clearly.

"Could this be what he meant?"

"Possibly. But we shouldn't force it open."

She looked disappointed.

"Why would he leave two keys in different places?"

"Maybe the second key was never meant to be kept here. Your father might have given it to someone he trusted."

Amelia thought about the people who had appeared in the investigation. Victoria. Evelyn. Richard. Each seemed to hold a different piece of the same story.

"Or someone took it."

Alexander didn't disagree.

He examined the number on the first key again.

"7142. It reminds me of an old document deposit reference. Some banks used numbered keys and private deposit systems for sealed documents. But I can't be certain until I check."

"Do you think the second key could be at a bank?"

"It's possible. I'll look into the institutions that handled Blackwood's old accounts."

Amelia nodded, then returned to the papers.

Among them was a photograph she hadn't noticed before.

It showed her father sitting at their old kitchen table, wearing a faded blue shirt. A cup of tea rested beside him, and a newspaper was folded near his elbow. He was looking directly at the camera with a half-smile, as if someone had interrupted him while he was reading.

Amelia's throat tightened.

She remembered that shirt. He used to wear it on weekends because he said it was comfortable, even though her mother complained that it was getting too old.

She remembered the sound of his keys dropping into a small bowl near the front door. The way he hummed while making breakfast. How he always checked the windows before going to bed.

He had been an ordinary father with ordinary habits. He had helped with homework, worried about bills and promised to take the family on a holiday they never managed to afford.

She sat down, holding the photograph.

"I wish I could ask him why he kept all this."

Alexander remained beside her without speaking.

"I spent years thinking I knew everything about him," she continued. "Then his name appeared in those records, and suddenly people made him sound like someone I never knew."

Alexander pulled out the chair beside her but did not touch her.

"Whatever these papers reveal, they don't erase the man you remember."

Amelia looked at him.

"What if he made mistakes?"

"Then we face the truth about those mistakes. But we don't turn unanswered questions into proof of guilt."

She lowered her eyes to the photograph.

A moment later, she reached for Alexander's hand.

He held it quietly, allowing her to sit with the memory without trying to make the sadness disappear.

After a while, he received a message from Jonathan.

He read it twice before putting his phone away.

"What is it?" Amelia asked.

"The company listed in your father's records. Northbridge Holdings was connected to a former Blackwood subsidiary called Blackwood Property Ventures. It handled certain property investments and financial arrangements before it was dissolved."

"And the money?"

"Some of the subsidiary's accounts were transferred to other institutions during the restructuring. Jonathan is checking where they went."

"Could those accounts contain the missing records?"

"They might. But we need to establish the connection first."

Amelia looked at the little key.

"Then perhaps this number is our next lead."

Alexander nodded.

"We'll find out."

The storage manager returned to inform them that the police had recorded the incident and that the security footage would be preserved. The unit would remain sealed until the necessary arrangements for the documents had been completed.

Amelia placed the photograph and the handwritten note inside the evidence folder. She wanted everything protected, including the ordinary things that reminded her who her father had been.

As they prepared to leave, she unfolded the note again.

Something on the reverse side caught her attention.

There was another line of writing, so faint that she had almost missed it. She tilted the paper towards the light.

A name appeared beneath the faded ink.

She stopped breathing for a moment.

"Alexander."

He turned towards her.

"What is it?"

She passed him the note.

He read the name, and his expression changed immediately.

Richard Hale.

Amelia stared at the paper.

Richard had been Alexander's financial adviser. He had survived the attack at the hotel, recovered and agreed to testify against Arthur Whitmore. He had also known her father.

"Why would my father write his name here?" she asked.

Alexander looked at the locked wooden container.

"I don't know. But if Thomas trusted Richard with the second key, then Richard may know where it is."

Amelia slowly folded the note.

After everything Richard had been through, they had believed his testimony would help close the old case.

Now it seemed he might be holding another piece of the truth.

And this time, the trail began with her father.