Chapter 4
The pattern-room cabinet could not simply be opened because Dacre asked.
It belonged to Edmund’s estate.
Sophronia remained executor, although Dacre’s lawyers were preparing an emergency petition to limit her authority because of the assault and emerging conflict concerns.
So the parties reached a temporary evidence agreement.
The cabinet would be opened in the presence of:
Estate counsel.
An independent probate inventory officer.
A Vale corporate lawyer.
Dacre’s lawyer.
Sophronia’s lawyer.
And a forensic document specialist.
Police did not need to run the corporate review, but Detective Hale attended because the key had emerged during the criminal incident and Sophronia’s conduct around the toy was potentially relevant to motive.
Sophronia did not come.
Her attorney did.
The old workshop smelled like sawdust despite having produced nothing commercially for almost fifteen years.
Edmund used it until the last month of his life.
He repaired furniture there.
Made gifts.
Tested joints.
Kept paper records everyone else insisted should have been digitized.
The pattern room sat behind a steel fire door.
Cabinet P-3 occupied an entire wall.
Flat oak drawers.
Brass label holders.
A lock polished by decades of use.
The key from Aurelia’s horse fit.
No dramatic alarm.
No hidden vault.
Just an old mechanical click.
Inside were hundreds of design patterns.
Full-size paper templates.
Construction drawings.
Copyright-registration copies.
Original design-number ledgers.
And three narrow binders labeled:
EDMUND COLLECTION — OWNERSHIP
NORTHSTAR
SALE
Rebecca looked at Dacre.
“Don’t touch anything.”
The inventory officer photographed every drawer before removal.
The first binder contained original registrations for the sixteen designs.
The second contained Edmund’s handwritten notes from meetings with Sophronia.
One page:
S proposes external licensing company. Value too low. Conflict unclear. Do not approve until ownership disclosed.
Another:
Aster structure still incomplete. Ask who receives management carry.
Then an email printed by Edmund:
From Sophronia.
Dad, we cannot run every transaction as though a chair needs to survive another hundred years.
Edmund’s handwritten response in the margin:
Furniture should. Deals don’t have to.
Dacre almost smiled.
That sounded like him.
Then the forensic specialist found the document that changed the room.
A copy of the supposedly unanimous board consent transferring the designs.
Same transaction date.
Same title.
But Edmund’s version had three signatures.
Sophronia.
Director Paul Raines.
Director Melissa Ford.
Edmund’s signature line was blank.
Across the top in red pencil:
NOT APPROVED — BENEFICIAL OWNERSHIP NOT DISCLOSED
The official corporate file contained a fourth signature.
Edmund’s.
No one yet knew why.
A blank line in one copy did not prove another signature was forged.
Edmund might have signed later.
But the next drawer contained a letter to outside counsel dated two days after the official consent.
I have not approved the Northstar transfer. Please instruct management that no assignment should be filed or funded until the conflict questions are answered.
Estate counsel checked the filing date.
The transfer had been recorded four days later.
Sophronia’s lawyer said immediately:
“We need forensic examination of the signature and complete email context.”
Correct.
No conclusions yet.
Then Dacre noticed one more thing.
Cabinet P-3 had scratch marks around the lock.
Recent ones.
Someone had tried another key.
The probate officer checked prior inventory photographs.
The scratches were not there five weeks earlier.
Detective Hale looked at the key bag.
Then at Dacre.
May you like
“Someone has been trying to get into this cabinet.”
Dacre already knew who had been searching handmade toys.
