Chapter 5
I knew my coat.
I knew where it had been.
The private entry hall.
Guarded all evening.
Only family and staff had access.
“Who touched it?”
Marco looked uncomfortable.
“Several people passed the rail.”
“Camera?”
“Checking.”
Marguerite laughed.
“You're paranoid now.”
I put the eighth coin beside the others.
“No.”
I looked at her.
“I'm late.”
That shut her up.
Ten minutes later, Marco returned with the security tablet.
The coat rail had been visible from one camera.
Not perfectly.
Enough.
We watched.
6:42 p.m.
Guests arriving.
7:03.
Marguerite passing the rack.
7:11.
Damian.
7:20.
My children.
Then 7:27.
My security chief, Leonard Price, approached my coat.
He looked left.
Right.
Then slipped something into the pocket.
The room went silent.
Leonard had guarded me for nine years.
He had carried Faye asleep from the car more than once.
I looked toward the door.
“Where is he?”
Marco's face hardened.
“Not at his post.”
Of course not.
Damian smiled.
That interested me.
“You're not surprised.”
He shrugged.
“Maybe your people are tired of you too.”
“No.”
I picked up the eighth coin.
“You expected him to leave.”
The smile disappeared.
I turned to Marco.
“Find him.”
Three guards left.
Then I looked at Francis.
“What was the coin supposed to prove?”
He swallowed.
“That you knew about the council.”
“How?”
“If things went badly tonight, Marguerite would say you agreed to the vote beforehand.”
“And the coin in my coat?”
“Proof.”
I almost laughed again.
Not documents.
Not signatures.
Symbols.
Old family nonsense.
Exactly the kind of thing people believed because everyone agreed to pretend it mattered.
“So the children go hungry.”
Nobody moved.
“I defend them.”
Silence.
“You call a council.”
I looked at Damian.
“The black coin appears in my coat.”
Then Marguerite.
“And suddenly I'm the man who agreed to a vote and became violent when it went against him.”
Marguerite's eyes narrowed.
“You make it sound simple.”
“It was.”
I leaned forward.
“That's why it almost worked.”
For the first time, Damian looked uncertain.
Almost.
Then Marco's radio came alive.
Static.
A voice.
“Found Price.”
I looked toward the door.
“Where?”
“South corridor.”
“Bring him.”
Pause.
“Boss…”
The voice changed.
“He's not alone.”
I waited.
“There are six men with him.”
The room changed instantly.
Damian stopped breathing.
Not because six men frightened him.
Because he recognized the number.
I looked at him.
“What did you do?”
He said nothing.
Marco reached inside his jacket.
Every bodyguard in the room shifted.
I looked around the table.
“Did the council start tonight?”
Nobody answered.
Then Peter whispered:
“No.”
I turned toward him.
His face had gone pale.
“The council was tomorrow.”
My eyes returned to Damian.
“If tomorrow was the council…”
May you like
I looked toward the south corridor.
“…what were six armed men supposed to do tonight?”
