Ethan turned the key counterclockwise, and this time the medallion itself rotated slightly, revealing a small compartment built into the ceiling. Inside was an old leather-bound book. Back on solid ground, they examined their find. The book was a journal, its pages filled with the same spidery handwriting they'd seen on the map. The entries spanned from 1970 to 197, documenting Thomas Blackwell's most private thoughts and secrets.
We should read this carefully, Ethan said, handling the journal reverently. Thomas wanted us to find it, but we need to understand why. As evening approached, Martha prepared to leave. At the door, she turned to Ethan with a serious expression. Be careful who you trust with what you're discovering.
There are people in Riverdale who would prefer the past stay buried. Including you, Ethan asked pointedly. Martha's smile was sad. I've kept Thomas's secrets for 45 years because I believed in him. Now I'm trusting you with them because I think that's what he would have wanted.
She squeezed his arm gently. Read the journal. Then you'll understand why all this matters so much. After Noah had gone to bed, Ethan settled in the library with Thomas's journal and a glass of whiskey Martha had thoughtfully included in her grocery delivery. The first entries were mundane business matters, household affairs, comments on local politics.
But in March 1970, the tone changed dramatically. "Saw Sophia again today," Thomas had written. Grant was in Pittsburgh for the Steel Conference. "We walked by the river and talked for hours. She understands me in ways no one else ever has.
This is madness, of course. She's my partner's wife, but when I'm with her, nothing else seems to matter. " The affair had developed quickly, passionate and all-consuming. By summer, Thomas was writing about a future together, planning to dissolve his partnership with William and start fresh elsewhere with Sophia. Then came the entry thus changed everything. The journal detailed those difficult years in greater depth.
Thomas wrote about the agony of watching his son grow up from a distance, the rare stolen moments with Sophia during Williams business trips, and the torment of a father who could never publicly claim his child. Then, in early 1975, disaster struck. William knows. I don't know how, but he confronted me today with accusations. Not about James, thank God, but about company finances.
He claims I've been embezzling funds, creating false accounts, manipulating the books. It's absurd, of course. But he's prepared documentation that looks convincing. He offered me a choice. Resign quietly, surrendering my shares at a fraction of their value, or face public accusations and criminal charges.
The next entries detailed Thomas's growing suspicion that William himself was the one embezzling from the company. Using Thomas as a scapegoat, he began gathering evidence, carefully documenting discrepancies in the accounts, tracing money transfers to offshore entities controlled by William. The amounts are staggering, Thomas wrote in late 1976. Millions siphoned from the company over years. No wonder productivity has fallen.