THE LAST SEVEN WITNESSES
The Blackthorn Files
Chapter Six: The Altered Report
"Mara?"
The voice came again from behind the second door.
Mara stood completely still.
It was the same voice she had heard on the cassette. The same quiet, uncertain voice that had asked someone to tell her mother she was sorry.
But there was something different about hearing it now.
It sounded close.
Almost as if the speaker were standing on the other side of the door, waiting.
Leah moved towards Mara and whispered, "We need to get out."
Before Mara could answer, Adrian's voice came from the passage.
"Ms Vale, open the door."
Mara looked at the handle.
There were now two people on opposite sides of the room, and neither seemed willing to explain why they were there.
She turned towards the second door.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
No answer.
Then three knocks sounded again.
Adrian knocked loudly from the other side.
"I am not going to ask again."
Mara stepped away from the hidden door.
"We're coming out."
She pulled the first door open.
Adrian stood in the passage, his expression tense. His eyes moved from Mara to Leah, then towards the second door.
"What are you doing here?"
"We found this room," Mara replied.
"How?"
She pointed towards the concealed opening.
Adrian stared at the bookshelf.
For a moment, his carefully controlled expression disappeared.
"You shouldn't have opened that."
"Why? What is this place?"
"An old service passage."
"Then why was it hidden?"
Adrian ignored the question and stepped inside. He examined the second door, then placed his hand against it.
"Did you hear anything?"
Mara watched him.
"Why do you ask?"
"Did you hear a voice?"
Leah looked at Mara but remained silent.
Adrian slowly removed his hand.
"Come with me. Both of you."
Mara glanced once more at the second door.
There was no sound now.
But the voice had been real.
She was certain of it.
They returned to the study, where Adrian closed the concealed passage.
"Nobody is to enter this room again without my permission," he said.
Mara folded her arms.
"You're avoiding the questions."
"I'm trying to prevent another incident."
"What incident? Someone speaking through a locked door?"
Adrian looked directly at her.
"Some parts of this house were sealed for a reason."
"Was Nora Bell one of those reasons?"
He didn't answer.
Leah stepped forward.
"Who was the woman in the photograph?"
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
"What photograph?"
Mara took it from her pocket and placed it on the desk.
He looked at it for several seconds.
Then he picked it up.
"Where did you find this?"
"Inside the hidden room."
Adrian turned it over and read the message.
She was never meant to disappear.
His face changed.
"Give me this."
"No," Mara replied.
"Ms Vale, this is private property."
"And the photograph concerns a missing seventeen-year-old girl. I think it deserves an explanation."
Adrian placed it back on the desk.
"Judge Harrow collected thousands of documents. Some were personal. Some were connected to cases he had handled. Not everything in his archive was evidence."
"Then why was this hidden?"
Adrian looked towards the bookshelves.
"I don't know."
Mara almost laughed.
It was becoming his favourite answer.
Later that afternoon, Daniel Rook asked everyone to gather in the drawing room.
He stood beside the fireplace, holding a thick folder.
"I believe it's time we discussed the original investigation."
Mara sat forward.
"What changed your mind?"
Daniel ignored the question.
"After Nora disappeared, several statements were collected. Some were inconsistent. Others were incomplete. The police eventually concluded that she had left voluntarily."
"Based on what?" Ruth asked.
"Her belongings were missing, and there was no clear evidence of an abduction."
"She would never have left me without saying goodbye."
"I understand that."
"No, you don't."
Ruth stood, but Simon gently asked her to sit down.
Daniel opened the folder.
"There is one document I should have questioned more carefully."
He placed a photocopy on the table.
It was a police report dated August 19, 2006.
Mara recognised the format immediately.
"What's this?"
"The initial incident summary."
She read through it.
Most of the information was familiar. Nora had last been seen near her home on the evening of August 18. A neighbour reported hearing an argument. Her bedroom window had been found open.
Then Mara reached the final paragraph.
No evidence of forced entry or involvement by a third party has been identified. No suspicious vehicle was reported in the surrounding area.
She looked up.
"That isn't what your later report said."
Daniel nodded.
"Correct."
"What changed?"
"Three days later, another version was submitted. The wording was different."
"Who changed it?"
Daniel hesitated.
"My signature appears on the later report."
Ruth stared at him.
"You signed a lie?"
"I signed a document that I believed had been verified."
"That's not an answer."
Daniel lowered his voice.
"I was younger. I trusted information that came through official channels. I didn't realise how much had already been altered."
Mara examined the document again.
"Who prepared the original?"
"That's what I've been trying to establish."
"Surely the name is on it."
Daniel pointed to the bottom corner.
The space where the officer's name should have appeared was blank.
Mara frowned.
"Was it removed?"
"I don't know."
Leah leaned forward.
"Look at the date."
Mara followed her gaze.
The report had been created on August 19.
But the digital reference number printed at the bottom belonged to a file registered on August 22.
"That makes no sense," Mara said.
Daniel nodded.
"Exactly."
"Could it have been copied from another file?"
"Possibly. But the original paper version has never been found."
Evelyn crossed her arms.
"Then perhaps we're wasting time. A missing signature and an inconsistent reference number don't prove a conspiracy."
"Neither does pretending everything was normal," Mara replied.
Evelyn looked away.
Simon Wren had remained unusually quiet throughout the discussion.
Now he placed his cup on the table.
"There's something else."
Daniel turned towards him.
"Simon."
"I think they should know."
"Not without the records."
Simon looked at Mara.
"I was working at St. Agnes Hospital in 2006. During the night of August 18, an unidentified young woman was brought in with a head injury."
Ruth slowly stood.
"Was it Nora?"
"I don't know."
The answer seemed to take the air out of the room.
Simon continued.
"She was frightened and refused to give her name. She was treated and discharged, but part of the admission record is missing."
"How much?" Mara asked.
"Forty-seven minutes."
Mara remembered the phrase from the old case notes.
Forty-seven minutes.
"Why was it missing?"
"At the time, I assumed it was a technical error. Later, I discovered that someone had accessed the record and removed part of the entry."
"Did you report it?"
Simon looked down.
"No."
Ruth's voice broke.
"You could have been looking at my daughter."
"I know."
"And you said nothing?"
"I couldn't identify her. I had no proof."
"You could have told me!"
Simon had no answer.
Ruth left the room.
Mara watched her go, then turned back to Simon.
"Do you remember anything about the patient?"
"Only a few details. Dark hair. A cut near her left temple. She was wearing a pale jacket."
Mara's mind returned to the photograph.
The girl beside the stone wall.
The pale jacket.
"Did she have anything with her?"
Simon hesitated.
"A small metal object. I remember because she refused to let anyone take it."
"What was it?"
"I couldn't see clearly."
Before Mara could ask more, Adrian entered the room.
"Excuse me. I need everyone to return to their rooms."
Evelyn frowned.
"Why?"
"Because the police have been contacted."
Daniel stood.
"By whom?"
Adrian looked towards Mara.
"Someone reported that confidential material has been removed from the estate."
Mara felt her stomach tighten.
The photograph was still in her pocket.
That evening, Mara returned to her bedroom and locked the door.
She took out the photograph and placed it beside the cassette recorder.
The date on the photograph was August 18, 2006.
The hospital patient had arrived that same night.
The police report had been altered.
And someone had hidden a room behind the study bookshelves.
She opened her notebook and wrote three lines.
August 18 — Nora disappears.
August 18 — Unidentified girl admitted to St. Agnes Hospital.
August 19 — Photograph taken at Blackthorn House.
She stopped.
The photograph from the hidden room was dated August 18, not August 19. The other photograph from her invitation had no date at all.
There was no proof yet that any of these events were connected.
But the possibility was becoming harder to ignore.
Her phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
You are looking at the wrong report.
Mara typed a reply.
Who are you?
The response came almost immediately.
Find the name that was removed.
A second message followed.
And don't trust Daniel Rook.
Mara stared at the screen.
Then she heard a faint sound from inside her handbag.
The cassette recorder had switched on.
A soft hiss filled the room.
Nora's voice emerged, clearer than before.
"If they tell you I left willingly, they're lying."
A pause.
Then the young woman whispered:
"Ask my mother about the letter."
The recording stopped.
Mara slowly lowered the device.
She now had another question for Ruth Bell.
What letter had arrived after Nora disappeared?
And why had she kept it secret for twenty years?
Outside, somewhere beyond the bedroom window, a car engine started.
Mara rushed to the window.
A dark vehicle was moving down the driveway.
Its headlights disappeared behind the trees.
She looked back at the photograph.
For the first time, she wondered whether the truth about Nora Bell had been hidden not in the places people searched, but in the things they had been too afraid to say.