She had also noticed that he had avoided looking at her afterward.
It was unlike him to become so visibly uncomfortable over a simple question.
She stood and walked toward the fireplace.
The camera was still there.
Small.
Black.
Unremarkable.
She looked up at it for a long time.
Then she heard her phone vibrate.
An unfamiliar number appeared on the screen.
She answered cautiously.
"Hello?"
"Mrs. Whitmore?"
"Yes."
"My name is Margaret Bennett. I'm Arthur's daughter."
Eleanor's stomach tightened.
"How is your father?"
"He's recovering. His cheek is still bruised, but he's all right."
Eleanor closed her eyes.
"I'm so sorry."
There was a pause.
"Did you see what happened?"
"Yes."
"Then you know what I'm calling about."
Eleanor looked toward the hallway.
"Is your father there?"
"No. I'm calling because I want to understand why Richard attacked him."
"I don't know everything."
"Do you know anything?"
Eleanor hesitated.
She thought about Richard's office, the papers, and his sudden reaction to the question about the security footage.
"I know that Arthur came to speak with him about something important."
"What was it?"
"I don't know the full details."
"Was it related to money?"
Eleanor's fingers tightened around the phone.
"Possibly."
Margaret waited.
Then she asked another question.
"Did Richard tell you why he was so angry?"
"No. He said Arthur was interfering in his business."
"Did he explain what business?"
"No."
There was a long silence.
Finally, Margaret said, "I want you to know that my father doesn't want to cause unnecessary trouble. But what happened yesterday cannot simply be forgotten."
"I understand."
"Do you?"
Eleanor looked up at the camera.
"Yes," she whispered.
Margaret's voice softened.
"If you know something that might help establish the truth, please don't keep it to yourself."
Eleanor swallowed.
"I'll think about it."
"Thank you for speaking with me."
When the call ended, Eleanor lowered the phone.
She remained beside the fireplace.
Then she looked again at the camera.
She knew what she had to do.
She needed to find the recording.
Not because she wanted revenge.
Not because she wanted to destroy her marriage.
But because she had begun to understand that the truth was larger than the argument she had witnessed.
If the camera had captured Richard's assault, it might also have captured something else.
Something that could explain why Arthur had come to the house.
Something Richard desperately wanted to hide.
She went upstairs.
In the bedroom, she opened the drawer where Richard kept some of his old electronic devices and instruction manuals.
After searching for several minutes, she found the security system's original documentation.
She carried it downstairs and sat at the dining table.
The instructions explained that the cameras could store recordings locally and remotely. Administrator access was required to view certain archived footage.
She read the pages twice.
Then she remembered something.
Richard had once shown her an emergency access procedure in case he lost his phone.
He had written the recovery information on a small card and placed it inside the security system's manual.
Eleanor turned the pages.
There it was.
A small handwritten note.
Her heart began beating faster.
She entered the information into the application.
The screen changed.
A list of available recordings appeared.
She selected the previous afternoon.
The video began loading.
For several seconds, nothing happened.
Then the living room appeared on her screen.
She watched herself standing near the windows.
She watched Arthur enter.
She watched Richard approach him.
And then she saw the moment of the assault again.
This time, however, she was not watching from across the room.
She was seeing it from the camera's perspective.
The image was clear.
The movement was unmistakable.
Richard's arm extended.
Arthur's head turned.
His hand rose to his cheek.
Eleanor felt sick.
She paused the recording.
Her eyes filled with tears.
For a moment, she considered stopping there.
She had seen enough to confirm what she already knew.
But then she noticed something in the recording timeline.
The camera had been active before Arthur arrived.
And it continued recording after he left.
She moved the playback bar backward.
A few minutes before the confrontation, Richard could be seen walking into the living room with a document folder.
He placed it on the coffee table.
Then he looked toward the hallway and spoke to someone whose face was not visible.
Eleanor leaned closer to the screen.
She increased the volume.
The recording was faint, but the words were understandable.
"Make sure the original never leaves this house," Richard said.
A second voice answered.
"What if Arthur asks again?"
Richard looked toward the camera's general direction, though he did not appear to notice it.
"He won't get another chance."
Eleanor stopped breathing.
She replayed the sentence.
Then she listened again.
He won't get another chance.
Her hands began to tremble.
She had thought the assault was the result of a sudden loss of temper.
But now she wondered whether Richard had been expecting Arthur.
Whether he had known exactly what the old man wanted to discuss.
Whether the violence had been connected to something much more deliberate.
She continued watching.
The second person was never clearly visible.
But there was a reflection in the glass cabinet near the fireplace.
A figure standing close to the hallway.
Eleanor paused the video.
She zoomed in.
The image became grainy.
Still, she could make out a dark jacket and what appeared to be a folder held under one arm.
She did not recognize the person.
She looked at the timestamp.
The recording had been made shortly before Arthur arrived.
Eleanor felt a sudden wave of fear.
She now had something more important than evidence of an assault.
She might have evidence of a conversation connected to the missing agreement.
And Richard had no idea she had found it.
She checked the recording settings.
The footage could be downloaded.
She selected the relevant section and saved a copy to her phone.
Then she sent another copy to a secure storage account she rarely used.
Her hands were shaking so badly that she nearly dropped the device.
When the download completed, she sat perfectly still.
For several minutes, she simply stared at the screen.
The house seemed different now.
The walls felt thinner.
The quiet felt threatening.
And the small black camera above the fireplace no longer looked like an ordinary security device.
It looked like a witness.
***
At eleven fifteen that night, the front door opened.