“Then let the Sheriff’s Office do its work, Lucie. And forget about this thing,” Seth said in a firm voice. “I wouldn’t mention anything about it to anyone, if I were you.”

“I’m not really sure what ‘this thing’ is.” I finished my water and set the glass down. “According to Prescott, there’s a good chance Leland left some information about the location of several cases of Madeira that would be over two hundred years old by now and quite valuable. I’d like whatever was in that safe-deposit box, please. I’m sure there are fees involved since no one paid for renting the box or for you storing the contents these last five years.”

Seth stood up. “There are no fees. I handled this matter myself. President’s prerogative.” He walked around to his desk and sat down in his high-backed leather chair.

He swiveled his chair around so it was blocking my view. I heard the creak of a door opening, which would be the cabinet behind his desk, and then silence. And finally the metallic sound of a latch unlocking.

“You kept everything here? In your private safe?” I asked.

When he swung his chair around again so he was facing me, he was holding a large envelope, big enough to contain legal-sized papers.

“I did what your father asked me do to,” he said. “The problem was that he still had the keys to the safe-deposit box and I had no way of getting them from you without betraying him.”

He came back and set the envelope on the table between us. The edges were tattered and the envelope looked worn and a bit grimy. I left it where it was, but I put the keys back in the small safe-deposit box envelope, secured the Velcro flap, and slid it over to him. He didn’t pick it up, either.

“How are the Masons related to the Miranda Foundation?” I asked him.

He looked surprised, but he answered readily enough. “The Masons—specifically Prescott’s lodge—have been very generous in helping the Miranda Foundation with its work.”

“In what way? What, exactly, do Masons do besides hold secret meetings and dress up in costumes and have secret handshakes?”

Seth’s face cracked into a small smile. “I’m not a Mason so I can’t tell you much, but I do know their stated purpose is this: to make good men better. They’re a philanthropic group and they do a lot of charitable work, much of it behind the scenes and without fanfare. Did you know, for example, that the Masons and the Miranda Foundation recently bought three homes in Loudoun County and are in the process of renovating them with adaptive features so that they can become homes for adults with special needs? Once the construction work is done, we’re going to turn them over to a nonprofit foundation that already has many established group homes.”