The Forgotten Room

42

As evening fell, and heavy rain lashed the gables, parapets, and spires of the Lux mansion, a cell phone rang in the small set of rooms in the far section of the second floor.

It was picked up on the third ring. “Hello.”

“Abrams,” came the voice from northern Virginia.

“I know who it is.”

“Logan’s up in Fall River, Massachusetts.”

“What’s he doing there?”

“He went to a retirement community. He visited with the last of the three still aboveground.”

The person on the second floor did not reply.

“We think he knows everything,” the man named Abrams said.

“That old scientist is probably in his dotage. The likelihood is Logan just heard a lot of rambling.”

“Our information suggests the old scientist’s memory is just fine.”

“Even if that’s true, all Logan would learn is the backstory. He doesn’t know about me. About us.”

“He’ll learn soon enough. It’s only a matter of time. We’re going to handle this.”

“Like you ‘handled’ the architect?”

“Yes. Time is of the essence now. We’ve waited long enough. We can’t afford any more delays.”

“I told you, I’ll deal with Logan.”

“You had your chance,” said Abrams. “It’s out of your hands now.”

“No. That’s not the way. People will get suspicious—”

“With this hurricane bearing down on Newport? You must be joking. It’s perfect. Logan’s on the way back there now. Are people leaving the mansion?”

“The evacuation is voluntary. But, yes, many have left already.”

“All the better. After the hurricane passes, they’ll find Logan’s battered body washed up on shore. They’ll be saddened — but they won’t be suspicious.”

“It’s dangerous to kill him.”

“It’s more dangerous to let him live. And he’s not the only one who knows too much. You’d be surprised how much collateral damage this storm may cause.” There was the briefest of pauses. “You wait. We’re going to take care of this, once and for all.”