Chapter 11 - the founder without a photograph
Richard Vale Jr. recovered enough to join the investigation.
He brought his father’s private papers.
Richard Vale Sr. had spent years tracing Northstar’s hierarchy.
His notes repeatedly referenced someone identified only as THE FOUNDER.
No name.
No photograph.
No employment file.
Even Charles Mercer referred to the person indirectly.
Arthur read one memo aloud.
Founder insists Hale line remain preserved. Mercer line must remain parallel until reunification.
Nathan frowned.
“Preserved?”
Franklin felt ill.
This was not simply about money.
Someone had planned generational continuity decades earlier.
Richard produced another file.
“My father believed the Northstar trials were only one part of something larger.”
Detective Cole cautioned him.
“Evidence, not theory.”
Richard nodded.
“The evidence is financial.”
Payments to Northstar came through a century-old philanthropic trust.
The trust’s current beneficiary was hidden behind several foundations.
Arthur recognized one.
The Bellweather Institute.
His mother had served on its board.
Franklin stared.
“Your mother?”
Arthur’s expression changed.
“Marjorie Mercer.”
Nathan had barely heard the name.
Arthur rarely spoke about his mother.
She supposedly died when Arthur was twenty-four.
Richard searched his notes.
Marjorie Mercer.
Born Marjorie Bellweather.
Daughter of Dr. Elias Bellweather.
Franklin felt something click into place.
“Doctor?”
Arthur nodded.
“Neurologist.”
Richard opened another folder.
Dr. Elias Bellweather had founded an early trauma research center in 1958.
Its internal name:
Continuance Program.
Northstar had evolved from it decades later.
Nathan asked, “Was Bellweather the founder?”
Richard shook his head.
“He died before Northstar was formed.”
“Then who carried it forward?”
Arthur whispered:
“My mother.”
Silence.
Arthur sat down.
Marjorie had been portrayed throughout his childhood as a philanthropist with little interest in business.
But trust records told a different story.
She controlled Bellweather Institute research grants.
She had approved Charles Mercer’s funding.
She had signed Samuel Keene’s appointment.
And on the night Franklin’s parents died—
she had authorized the emergency transfer of Franklin and Evelyn.
Franklin’s anger sharpened.
“Your mother ordered them to take us.”
Arthur did not defend her.
Nathan asked the obvious question.
“If she died before Dad disappeared, who took over?”
Richard looked at the records.
“According to this, nobody.”
Detective Cole noticed a discrepancy.
Marjorie Mercer’s death certificate contained the same institutional code seen on Evelyn Hale’s false death record.
Meridian Clinical Services.
Arthur slowly stood.
“No.”
Franklin understood.
“You never saw her body.”
Arthur’s face collapsed.
“I was studying abroad. My father handled everything.”
Nathan whispered:
“What if she didn’t die either?”
An alert sounded on Detective Cole’s phone.
Victoria’s abandoned phone had reconnected to a network.
For only eleven seconds.
Enough to obtain a location.
An old Bellweather Institute property outside Chicago.
Police mobilized.
Franklin insisted on going.
Cole refused.
Arthur backed her.
Nathan went anyway, following at a distance until officers stopped him at the perimeter.
The property was a former neurological rehabilitation center closed for decades.
Inside, police found Victoria.
Alive.
Locked in an upstairs office.
She was shaken but physically unharmed.
Nathan rushed toward her after medics cleared the room.
Victoria looked at him.
“I’m sorry.”
Nathan’s expression remained guarded.
“Who brought you here?”
“I never saw his face.”
“Him?”
“A man.”
She swallowed.
“He knew everything about your father.”
Franklin stepped closer.
“What did he want?”
Victoria looked at him.
“The device.”
“I don’t have it.”
“He thinks you know where Evelyn put it.”
Franklin shook his head.
Victoria continued:
“He said Evelyn would come back if Nathan was in danger.”
Nathan felt cold.
Arthur asked:
“Did he give you a name?”
Victoria shook her head.
“But I heard someone else call him something through the door.”
“What?”
Victoria looked directly at Arthur.
“Mr. Bellweather.”
Arthur’s face went blank.
“That family name ended with my grandfather.”
Detective Cole approached from the hallway.
“Maybe not.”
Police had found a recent photograph inside the facility.
It showed an elderly man entering three months earlier.
On his arm was a distinctive scar.
Franklin recognized it instantly.
He had seen that scar every day in the Northstar laboratory.
It belonged to Dr. Samuel Keene.
May you like
The man Arthur believed died fifteen years ago.
👉 Samuel Keene—the Northstar doctor long presumed dead—may have survived under the Bellweather name and could be the man now trying to force Evelyn out of hiding.
