Chương 11
“I thought he was being disloyal,” she said. “I told Arthur. That was my mistake.”
Within two days, three additional clients requested reviews.
The story changed.
Not completely. Public opinion did not move like a curtain opening. Some people called Evelyn confused. Others accused her attorney of seeking attention. Former clients posted photographs of Arthur at weddings and hospital fundraisers. Anonymous accounts claimed Sarah had manipulated David into attacking her father for money.
Priya took the loaned phone away each time Sarah began reading comments.
“Strangers do not get a vote inside this room,” she said.
“They vote everywhere else.”
“Then let them exhaust themselves.”
Matthew returned from Singapore on the eighth day.
He came directly from the airport carrying one suitcase and still wearing the same white dress shirt from the video call. He looked thinner than Sarah remembered. Arthur had sent him a series of messages before the arrest instructing him to restrict access to international client files and suspend two employees.
Matthew had complied with one instruction before the firm’s legal counsel intervened.
“I thought it was ordinary crisis management,” he said.
They sat in the hospital cafeteria after midnight, surrounded by empty tables. Someone was mopping beneath chairs at the far end of the room. Matthew peeled the label from a bottle of water in narrow strips.
“What did you restrict?” Sarah asked.
“Access to an archive server.”
“Did you delete anything?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I changed permissions. That can affect automated retention processes.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I don’t know yet.”
Sarah pushed away her untouched soup.
“You always know just enough to sound innocent.”
Matthew looked up.
“That’s rich.”
“What is?”
“You spent your whole life being Dad’s favorite witness.”
“I’m not his witness.”
“You were. Every time Mom said he was too hard on us, you explained him. Every time I wanted to quit the firm, you said he needed me. When David was fired, you told Dad David was probably embarrassed.”
“I didn’t know he was stealing.”
“You didn’t want to know.”
“And you did?”
Matthew’s voice rose. The custodian looked over.
Sarah lowered hers. “No.”
They sat in silence.
Matthew folded the last strip of label into a damp square.
“I found something,” he said.
“What?”
“In Singapore, we handled transfers through a partner bank. There were accounts listed as client tax reserves. I thought they belonged to U.S. clients with holdings overseas. The names were codes.”
“Can you access them?”
“Not now. The board locked me out after police contacted them.”
“Did you save anything?”
He looked toward the cafeteria entrance.
Sarah understood before he answered.
“You copied files.”
“Some.”
“Where are they?”
“Safe.”
She laughed once without humor.
“That word needs to be retired in this family.”
“I’m trying to decide what to do.”
“You give them to police.”
“If I do, I could expose client information in three countries. I could lose my job, my license, maybe face charges.”
“What license?”
“My securities registration.”
“Did Dad make you sign things?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know they were false?”
“Not when I signed them.”
“And later?”
Matthew pressed both palms flat against the table.
“I stopped asking.”
Sarah looked at her brother and saw the frightened boy who had learned a different lesson from Arthur. Sarah had survived by interpreting him. Matthew had survived by becoming useful.
“The files go to your attorney first,” she said. “Then to the investigators.”
“You sounded like David just now.”
“He’s irritating too.”
Matthew smiled weakly.
“I don’t know who I am without that company.”
“You’re the guy who wanted to design train stations.”
“I was twenty-two.”
“You still draw buildings on napkins.”
He looked down at the mangled water label.
“That isn’t a napkin.”
“It’s also not a building.”
For a moment they were children again, insulting each other at the breakfast table while Eleanor pretended not to laugh and Arthur read the financial pages.
Then Matthew’s face folded.
“I defended him,” he said. “On the phone. After you told me about Ruby.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sarah wanted to tell him it was all right. The words rose automatically.
She let them die.
“You should be,” she said.
He nodded.
It was not forgiveness, but it was honest.
Eleanor requested to see Sarah on the ninth day.
The meeting took place in a small room at the prosecutor’s office, after Sarah agreed that investigators could observe from behind glass. Eleanor’s attorney sat beside her. Brooks waited outside Sarah’s line of sight.
Eleanor wore a gray sweater Sarah recognized from a birthday lunch. Without makeup, she looked older and strangely ordinary. No camel coat, no careful jewelry, no husband beside her.
Sarah sat across the table.
For a while, neither spoke.
Eleanor rubbed the red line on her palm. It had scabbed over.
“You cut it on the gate,” Sarah said.
“Yes.”
“Trying to stop Maisie?”
“Trying to open it.”
“After you locked it.”
Eleanor nodded.
“Why?”
“Arthur said the girls couldn’t see David.”
“They already had.”
“I know.”
“You put the key in the purse before the fight.”
“Yes.”
“So this was planned.”
Eleanor’s attorney shifted. “My client can describe her own actions but will not speculate regarding Mr. Vance’s intent.”
Sarah ignored him.
“How much did you know?”
Eleanor looked at her hands.
“Arthur said David had stolen files and planned to destroy the firm. He said the police would believe David if there was no proof he took the key. He wanted the key found among David’s belongings.”
“Why Maisie’s purse?”
“He said David would take the girls with him.”
“He planned to send David away in the car.”
Eleanor’s lips trembled.
“I didn’t know that at first.”
“At what point did you know?”
“When Arthur asked me to bring the SUV around to the garage.”
“What did you see?”
“David was on the floor.”
“And you helped.”
“I said we should call an ambulance.”
May you like
“What did Dad say?”
“That David would wake up and ruin all of us.”
