Chapter 9 - The Final Ten Minutes
Eleanor fell to her knees on the shattered glass, wailing into her silk-clad hands, while the catering staff and remaining housekeepers stood in the doorways watching their former masters fall.
Julian stood frozen, staring at the grandfather clock. The heavy pendulum swung back and forth: 11:51 AM. Nine minutes left.
""You're bluffing,"" Julian whispered, his teeth grinding together so hard the tendons in his neck strained. ""Harris wouldn't dare. I gave five hundred thousand dollars to his re-election campaign.""
Marcus Cole pulled out a radio from his overcoat and clicked the channel. ""Inspector Harris, come in.""
A static crackle filled the room, followed by the deep voice of the police commissioner: ""We have vehicles positioned at the north and south gates, Marcus. Waiting on Mrs. Vance's order.""
Julian dropped his arms to his sides. The reality crushed him. His name, his credit lines, his social standing, his entire manufactured existence was dissolving in the span of a few minutes.
Without another word, Julian spun on his heel and bounded up the grand staircase two steps at a time.
""Julian! Don't leave me!"" Eleanor shrieked, struggling to stand up from the floor, her turquoise dress torn at the knee where glass had punctured the fabric. She looked at Clara, hatred burning in her wrinkled face. ""You monster! You ruined my son! He gave you everything! You were nothing before he married you!""
""I was a Vance,"" Clara answered calmly, folding her hands behind her back. ""And he was an unemployed hedge fund clerk pretending to be a gentleman. You taught him how to steal, Eleanor. And now, you can watch him fall.""
Clara motioned to the two bailiffs. ""Escort Mrs. Sterling to the front gate. Confiscate any jewelry belonging to the Vance estate vault. If she resists, have the officers detain her for trespassing.""
""You can't touch my pearls!"" Eleanor screamed as the bailiffs took her by the elbows, lifting her off her feet. ""These were gifts! Julian gave them to me!""
""With my mother’s money,"" Clara noted softly.
As Eleanor’s screeching faded down the grand driveway, the foyer became deathly quiet. Vance walked over to Clara, his weathered face etched with deep relief and concern.
""You did it, Clara,"" he murmured. ""Your father would be proud. But Julian went upstairs alone. He knows the master bedroom has the emergency wall safe.""
Clara’s eyes darkened. The emergency wall safe didn't just hold bearer bonds. It held her father’s antique service revolver.
""Vance, tell Marcus and his men to clear the foyer,"" Clara ordered calmly.
""Clara, no! Let the police handle him!""
""This started in our bedroom,"" Clara said, turning toward the stairs. ""It ends there.""
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She didn't run. She walked up the stairs, each measured step deliberate. At the end of the long upper hallway, the master bedroom door stood wide open.
Inside, the sounds of rummaging drawers abruptly ceased.
