Day 29: Clockwork

Genre: Mystery
Universe: QuickSilver
Rating: PG / TW: None
 

     William regarded the locked doorknob with a careful eye. “After all the security loops we had to sort through to get inside the house, I’m honestly surprised your father doesn’t use some sort of high-tech security card system to lock his office.”

     “He hates having that kind of stuff inside the house.” Cole shifted her weight from foot to foot anxiously. “His paranoia is weird, sometimes. You can get it open, right?”

     The gentle click of metal on metal answered her as William straightened back up, tools in hand, then opened the door with a flourish. “Done and done.”

     Cole nodded in quiet thanks and stepped into her father’s office. It felt strange enough entering the room without him, but breaking in… Well. She tried to steel herself even as a wave of guilt rippled in her stomach. You’re not a bad daughter, she reminded herself. He’s hiding something and finding it is the most important thing right now.

     William, obviously much more at ease with invading Mr. Davis’s private space, sauntered into the office behind Cole. He gave the room a once-over, his hands resting in his pockets in an attempt to preemptively keep them in check. “Now, if I were a horrible father with too much money and secrets to keep, where would I hide them?”

     “Hmm.” Cole walked towards the desk that dominated the upper half of the room. It was neat and clean, without a single paper on it - not even a Post-it note. He didn’t even leave his laptop here, though she was certain any security software on it would have made it impossible for her to root through quickly, anyway. She stared at the drawers of the desk and tugged nervously at the cuffs of her gloves, like they would suddenly flit from her hands while she was rummaging and cause her to leave a fingerprint trail.

     William noticed her fidgeting and tilted his head towards her reassuringly.. “No worries, luv, we won’t have a Fruit At the Bottom of the Bowl situation here.”

     A flicker of a smile lit on Cole’s face at the literary reference. “As adorable as it is that you’re flirting with me in Bradbury, we’ve really got to get moving.”

     “Noted, noted.” William watched her for a moment as she gingerly began to open drawers, then turned his attention to the rest of the room. It was clean, but not in the comfortable way he was used to with Cole - a place for everything and everything in its place. No, Mr. Davis’s office was the kind of clean that felt cold and sterile; the kind of picture perfect that left things looking devoid of life. The only thing that felt worthy of William’s interest was the grandfather clock on the far wall. It was easily the most ornate object in all the room, though not so over-the-top that it still managed to match the décor. Among the more modern pieces, the tall clock was unironically timeless and as much as William loathed to admit it, he might have been able to bear the idea of Stewart as a Father-In-Law if he could have secured this clock as an inheritance.

     He ran his gloved fingers along with the polished mahogany, studying the details carved into it. A pair of ravens adorned the clock face,

     The quiet click of Cole closing a drawer pulled his attention back to the room. William looked over his shoulder at her. “Darling, do you find it odd that your dear old Dad keeps a broken clock in his study?”

     Cole shook her head. “The clock has been like that a long time. The clock belonged to my Aunt, it’s pretty special to him. I never understood why he never got it fixed.”

     William regarded the birds on the faceplate again, and felt the proverbial lightbulb flick on above his head. “Lenore. Your aunt, her name is Lenore, correct?”

     “Yeah, why?”

     “Once upon a midnight dreary…” William mused as his careful fingers unlatched the glass covering the face of the clock. He took the hands, which had been frozen at 6:30, and slowly wound them back towards the twelve. “While I pondered, weak and weary…”

     “Wha--what are you doing?!” Cole hissed as she rushed over to William’s side.

     William continued the poem as the clock hands steadily reached midnight. “Vainly I had sought to borrow, from my books surcease of sorrow--sorrow for the lost Lenore.”

     A click reverberated from somewhere within the clock as its hands clicked together at midnight. The grandfather clock did not chime, but instead played the beautiful sound of gears falling into motion as latches from somewhere within loosened and allowed access into the space concealed behind the clock face.

     “You can’t be serious,” Cole whispered in disbelief.

     William reached inside the secret chamber and pulled out an envelope. “Nevermore, indeed.”