Part 5
“Assistance?” Daniel said.
“We are not searching senators.”
“We may need to search staff.”
“No.”
“Then the envelope leaves.”
“It may have left already.”
Daniel stared at him. “Your instinct to manage appearances is the reason the room was unsecured.”
Charles’s jaw tightened. “Careful.”
“No. Not tonight.”
Their friendship was old enough to permit the insult and damaged enough that everyone heard it.
Margot remained by the door. “There is another problem.”
No one asked.
“The official presentation envelope had a black wax seal,” she said. “Not red.”
Adrian looked at her.
Helena said, “I saw black.”
“The stationery order specified navy.”
Charles frowned. “What?”
Margot stepped into the room. “The envelopes arrived this morning. Twelve rigid gold envelopes with navy wax seals embossed with the Vale compass rose. I placed one on the table at five forty. When I checked at six ten, the seal was black.”
“You left it there?” Daniel asked.
“I assumed the lighting made the navy look darker.”
“Who else knew the seal color?”
“The stationer. My staff. Mrs. Kline from the house office. Mr. Vale’s executive assistant. Helena.”
Helena shook her head. “I knew the design, not the final color.”
Margot looked at Adrian. “The envelope you saw her take—what color was the seal?”
“Black.”
“And the one she left?”
“Red.”
“So the black-sealed envelope was already wrong before Helena touched it.”
Celia looked at Adrian. “Did you see the official navy envelope at any point?”
He tried to reconstruct the room.
The morning room doors open. Celia’s wrap on the back of a chair. Helena at the glass table. Gold in both hands. Black wax. Red wax. His father’s blue initials. The brief scrape of paper.
“No,” he said.
Helena’s shoulders lowered a fraction.
Adrian felt irritation at the relief in her face, though the new information supported her.
Charles looked at Margot. “Find the other eleven envelopes.”
“They’re in locked event storage.”
“Check them.”
Margot left.
Daniel placed both hands on the desk. “We have three issues. One: whether Charles knowingly signed the transfer. Two: who placed an altered agreement in the black-sealed envelope. Three: who removed that envelope from the table after the accusation.”
“And four,” Celia said. “Who posted the video before anyone left the terrace.”
Daniel looked at her. “Yes.”
Adrian stared at his phone. The original post had already been copied by larger accounts. Comments filled beneath it, most from people who had no idea who he was yesterday and had formed confident diagnoses tonight.
Entitled rich kid melts down at engagement party.
Trust-fund prince discovers paperwork.
Maybe the fiancée should run.
He turned off the screen.
Helena watched him.
“This is what I was trying to avoid,” she said.
Adrian looked at her. “You were carrying a secret transfer in your hand.”
“And you made it public before you knew what it was.”
“You could have stopped and explained.”
“Would you have listened?”
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came.
Celia folded her arms. “I would like to know why the document transfer was tied to our engagement in the first place.”
Charles looked at Daniel. “Not now.”
“It is now,” she said. “My name is already attached to this.”
“Your name is not in the transfer.”
“My family is being described as a liability.”
“By Helena.”
“Based on something our attorney sent.”
Charles’s silence irritated her more than denial would have.
Celia took a breath and turned to Adrian. “Did you read the marital draft?”
He looked at her.
They had spent three weeks postponing the conversation. Their lawyers had traded comments while Adrian and Celia argued about wedding dates, guest counts, and whether to renovate the smaller house near the harbor or live in Manhattan. Every time the agreement came up, Celia said her father’s counsel was handling it. Every time Adrian’s attorney called, Adrian let the voicemail sit until morning.
“I read the summary,” he said.
A bitter smile touched her mouth. “Of course you did.”
Charles looked at his son.
The resemblance between them became unpleasant.
Adrian felt it too.
Daniel’s phone rang. He checked the screen and answered.
“Price.”
He listened.
“When?”
His gaze moved to Helena.
“Send it to me.”
He ended the call.
“What?” Charles asked.
“Becker Lane received electronic notice of the transfer at six thirty-two this evening.”
Helena looked at the clock on the mantel.
The accusation on the terrace had happened at seven eighteen.
Daniel continued. “The notice included a scanned copy of the signed governance instrument and instructions that delivery of the original would occur tomorrow.”
“From whom?” Charles asked.
“The transmission came from Helena’s firm credentials.”
Every face turned toward her.
Helena did not speak.
Daniel held out his hand. “Phone.”
She looked at him.
“Now.”
Helena removed a slim black phone from her evening bag and placed it on the desk.
“Passcode.”
“No.”
Charles said her name quietly.
“My phone contains privileged communications involving other beneficiaries.”
Daniel gave a humorless laugh. “You are worried about privilege?”
“I am worried about violating duties because everyone in this room is frightened.”
“Your credentials transmitted a disputed control document.”
“That does not mean I sent it.”
“Then unlock the phone.”
“I will provide it to independent counsel.”
“You will provide it to me.”
“I do not represent Charles.”
Daniel straightened. “You have spent twenty years behaving as though you do whenever it benefits you.”
Helena’s face hardened. “And you have spent twenty years invoicing him for advice he ignores.”
Charles stepped between them with a tiredness that briefly made him look older than fifty-two. “Enough.”
A second knock sounded.
Margot returned carrying a white storage carton.
She placed it on a side table and lifted the lid. Inside were eleven gold envelopes, each sealed in navy wax with the Vale compass rose.
“The extras are all accounted for,” she said. “And I found this beneath the protective paper.”
She held up a narrow strip of black wax.
May you like
Daniel took a photograph before she set it down.
“From a seal?” he asked.
