Transparency Charles Royce (phonics reader .TXT) 📖

Walter and Hillary’s three-story home is a throwback to old New York City. A true brownstone, made of brick with a brownstone façade, the Gordon home opens directly into a rounded foyer with a mosaic marble floor. In the middle of the foyer rests a wooden drum table, topped with a dusty faux-flower arrangement in a slender vase. A staircase leading to the second and third stories ascends to his right, next to a study closed off by French doors. To his left, through massive oak pocket doors, is the renovated living room, with an upholstered Chippendale sofa, two leather club chairs and a rocking chair in the far-right corner next to a faux window.

Josh enters the chef’s kitchen, opens the refrigerator built into the antiqued shaker cabinetry, and begins to put Hillary’s groceries away.

“They didn’t have any of the coconut swirl this time, so I got two butter pecans. I’ll put them in the freezer.”

“Don’t worry about the rest of it, sweet boy. I’ll put it away.”

“I’ll just help with the refrigerated stuff, how’s that?”

“Thank you.” Hillary walks back to her chair in the living room, grabs a knotted cashmere blanket, and pulls it over her. “Every two weeks like clockwork. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, I’m not sure how much longer I can do it. We’re getting really busy at work, with the grand opening and all.”

“That’s okay. I understand. You’re young. You have responsibilities.”

“Have you been walking around the block like we talked about?”

“What’s that, dear?”

Josh speaks a little louder. “Have you been walking around the block like we talked about?”

“Some,” she answers.

“Some? The doctor said it would be good for you.”

Josh meanders his way to the living room, sits down with a sigh.

“You look tired, dear,” she says.

“Ugh.” He slaps both sides of his face. “Just met with a lawyer. It was long. Very long.”

“I thought you said you were with Jenna?”

“Jenna and her lawyer. She was arrested a couple of days ago for Lennox’s murder. We were meeting with a potential defense lawyer for her.” Hillary’s Turkish Angora cat begins to figure eight between Josh’s legs. He strokes her fur. “Hi, Adele.”

“Jenna. That’s your best friend, correct?” Hillary asks.

“Yes.” Josh is uneasy, lost in thought. “Hill, I need to talk with you about something. I know you don’t like to discuss it, so I’ve never asked.”

“Honey, you can ask me anything.”

“Do you know why Walter felt the need to hire a bodyguard?”

Hillary’s eyes wander around the room. “What, dear?”

“Was he in danger?”

She pats her lap. “Come here, Adele.”

Her discomfort is palpable to Josh. He watches as she rakes her fingers across Adele’s forehead.

“I’m sorry, Hill,” he says. “I didn’t mean to make—”

“No need, dear.”

He can hear the cat purring. “It’s just that over these past few months, Jenna and I have been finding out more and more about the company.”

“Shh!” she says.

Josh doesn’t know if she’s talking to the cat or to him. “We’ve discovered a boatload of information that could explain—”

“I said shh!” She looks around in what looks like three different directions, then whispers, “They’re listening.”

Josh tracks Hillary’s eye movements around the room. Medium-gray walls with ornate rectangular trim surround a fireplace with a few silver knickknacks, candlesticks, and photos on the mantel, a slender glass lamp with a Tiffany shade sitting atop a side table hugging the sectional he is currenting sitting on.

He walks to the mantel, picks up the knickknacks one by one.

“Walter already did that.”

“So he knew. That’s why he hired—”

“We used to talk in the study. Walter and I.” She nods her head to the room on the other side of the rounded foyer.

Josh turns toward Hillary, puts his arm up like an usher. “Shall we?”

“WALTER CONSTANTLY COMBED this room for cameras and bugs. And I’ve barely left the house since he died. I think we’re safe here.”

Hillary takes a trashcan from underneath the desk in the study and untapes a key. She takes the top piece of trim that forms one of the rectangles along the wall and flips it upward. She takes the bottom piece and flips it downward. Then she takes the left piece and flips it toward the window, revealing a tiny keyhole.

“He didn’t trust anybody, not even our contractors.” She slides the key inside. “He was quite the handyman, though. He fashioned this pathetic excuse for a safe. Simple drywall and hinges. But it works.”

“It’s kinda brilliant.” Josh holds his latest breath as Hillary opens the door.

At first glance he sees a large cylindrical tube, neon yellow in color.

“About a week before he was killed, they ransacked the place,” Hillary says. “Thank God he’d already moved this stuff into the safe, but that didn’t stop them from looking here in the study. All the books there behind you? All on the floor.”

The enormity of the collection in front of him causes his mouth to drop. The wall-to-wall bookcase extends from the floor to the fourteen-foot ceiling, with thousands of novels, reference compendiums, and art anthologies, all standing at attention, spine out.

“Whoa.” Josh’s head rolls a full one-eighty, his gaze landing back at the contents of the safe. “What was he trying to protect?”

“Himself.”

She grabs the neon tube and hands it to Josh.

“What’s this?”

“You’re holding original plans for the building.”

“The new skyscraper?” He squeezes the yellow tube like an excited kid, Greg Brady bunching his father’s architectural plans. He pops the top, pulls out two blueprints, and begins to unroll them onto the desk.

“Yes, Élan’s ‘eighth wonder of the world,’ as they call it,” Hillary says. “This particular blueprint and elevation explorations are the only early designs he stole. See if you can guess why.”

Josh scans the blueprint of the South Tower, his eyes moving from top to bottom—penthouse office space, no doubt for James West and his minions; fourteen floors of ancillary office space; two floors of meeting spaces, connected to an enormous lobby; then sub-basement floors for storage and additional underground parking.

“This is the South Tower,” Josh says.