Chương 6
Julian looked at her.
Mara expected him to dismiss her. Instead, he sat down.
“That’s fair.”
Margaret’s surprise showed.
He folded his hands on the table.
“But Celeste cannot attend. Her name cannot appear as a host, speaker, donor representative, or sponsor. Her family must be told why. If they withdraw the pledge, we reduce the program rather than hide the reason.”
Margaret’s mouth tightened.
“You are asking the board to accept your private account before any investigation concludes.”
“I am telling the board what I saw.”
“What Dr. Pritchard saw was less clear.”
Mara looked up.
Margaret noticed.
“I don’t mean that he contradicted you. He is shaken. His words today were that the movement happened very quickly.”
“He said he saw her hand open,” Mara said.
Margaret drew a slow breath.
“Miss Ellison, I am not defending Celeste.”
“You are translating her.”
“That is unfair.”
Lila pushed the green crayon out from under the table. It rolled across the floor and stopped beside Margaret’s shoe.
The older woman bent to retrieve it. When she held it out, Lila pressed closer to Mara’s leg.
Margaret’s face changed.
She placed the crayon on the table instead.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Lila did not answer.
Margaret looked at Julian.
“I will call an emergency board meeting.”
“Today.”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Today.”
She put on her gloves again.
“You have always mistaken urgency for moral clarity when you finally allow yourself to become angry.”
Julian went quiet.
Mara glanced at him. The observation had found its mark.
Margaret stood.
“I will have them here at six.”
After she left, Julian remained seated.
“Was she right?” Mara asked.
He rubbed a hand over his face.
“Yes.”
“About which part?”
“Most of it.”
Lila crawled out from beneath the table and placed the green crayon beside the others. She arranged them by length, though they had not been organized that way before.
Julian watched her.
“My sister used to do that,” he said.
Lila looked up.
“Mommy?”
“Yes.”
“Did Mommy steal?”
“No.”
“Did she find things?”
“Constantly. Usually things I was trying to hide.”
“What things?”
He considered.
“Chocolate. Bad report cards. Once, a frog.”
“In the house?”
“In her coat pocket.”
Lila looked delighted and then seemed to remember she was frightened. The expression disappeared so quickly that Julian’s eyes filled.
Mara gathered the crayons.
“Tell her the frog story later.”
He nodded.
It was the first time Mara had instructed him as though he were part of Lila’s daily life rather than its distant authority. He accepted it without offense.
At five that evening, a letter arrived from Celeste’s attorney.
It was delivered by hand in a cream envelope thick enough to feel ceremonial. Robert read it in Julian’s study while Julian stood at the window and Mara sat near the door.
Celeste denied intentionally harming Lila. She claimed the child had taken the brooch from Celeste’s private dressing room earlier that afternoon. When confronted, Lila had “thrown her weight backward,” causing Celeste to lose her grip. The letter accused Mara of using unnecessary force during her attempted intervention and suggested that the child’s bruising might have resulted from Mara’s contact.
Mara listened without moving.
Robert set down the letter.
“This was expected.”
“I caught her,” Mara said.
“Yes.”
“She is saying I hurt her.”
“She is creating alternative causation.”
“Does calling it that make it cleaner?”
“No,” Robert said. “It makes it a legal argument.”
Julian held out his hand. Robert gave him the letter.
He read it once.
Then again.
“She says the brooch was in her dressing room.”
“That appears to be her position.”
“It was kept in the west vault.”
“Was she authorized to access the vault?”
Julian did not answer immediately.
Robert’s eyes narrowed.
“Julian.”
“She knew the code.”
“Why?”
“She was going to be my wife.”
“That is not an answer to the question I asked.”
Julian folded the letter.
“She helped select pieces for the museum dinner. I gave her access in February.”
“Was the access removed afterward?”
“No.”
Robert took off his glasses and cleaned them with a cloth from his pocket.
“Is there a record of entries?”
“The vault logs each use.”
They went downstairs.
The west vault was concealed behind a paneled door in what had once been a linen room. Henry accessed the electronic log from a wall terminal. The screen listed dates, times, and individual codes.
Celeste’s code had opened the vault at 1:14 on the afternoon of the incident.
The confrontation in the music salon had occurred at 2:06.
Julian stared at the entry.
“She took it out that day.”
“Possibly,” Robert said.
“No one else used her code.”
“That is what the system shows. We should preserve the log and confirm whether codes can be shared or manually overridden.”
Mara looked around the small chamber. Family silver, jewelry, and documents rested in drawers lined with gray felt. The air smelled faintly metallic.
“Why would she say it was in her dressing room if she took it from here?” Mara asked.
Robert put his glasses back on.
“Because being stolen from her room sounds personal. Taking an estate piece from the vault raises questions she may not want asked.”
“What questions?”
Julian opened the drawer where the swan brooch was normally kept. The shallow impression in the velvet was shaped like a curved neck.
“Why she needed it.”
At the board meeting that evening, eight people sat around the long dining table while Lila slept upstairs with Mrs. Bell. Mara had not been asked to attend, but Julian requested that she give a statement at the beginning.
She wore a clean uniform. Her spare apron had different buttons, plain white plastic instead of pearl. The change bothered her more than it should have.
May you like
The trustees listened with varying degrees of discomfort.
Margaret sat at Julian’s right. Dr. Pritchard occupied the far end, his shoulders bowed. Elise Monroe sat beside him and took no notes, though everyone else had legal pads or tablets.
