Chương 5
“Did you touch the brooch?”
“No. It was still inside.”
“Then what happened?”
“He said, ‘Give me that.’”
“Marcus?”
Sophie nodded.
“He took the box, but the brooch fell out. I moved back. He grabbed your arm. Then he pushed between us.”
“Did he push you?”
“He hit my shoulder when he went past. I fell.”
The distinction mattered legally. It did not make the injury less real.
“Why didn’t you tell me this last night?”
“Nobody asked about the sticker.”
Evelyn stared at the drawing.
The hotel had transferred the case and brooch to local police as evidence in the assault investigation. They had photographed the exterior, the broken hinge, the position on the floor. She had seen no image of the interior beneath the velvet lining.
She reached for her phone, then stopped.
Administrative status meant she could not direct investigative activity. The case was no longer hers. Contacting evidence personnel without authorization would strengthen the argument that she could not separate professional duty from personal involvement.
Sophie watched her hand hover over the phone.
“You want to call somebody.”
“Yes.”
“But you’re not allowed.”
“I’m allowed to give information.”
“That sounds like you found a crack in the rule.”
“I work for the federal government. Finding cracks in rules is half the job.”
Sophie’s mouth moved slightly. Not a smile, but close.
Evelyn called Daniel.
He answered on the fourth ring.
“You’re supposed to route case information through review counsel.”
“Sophie saw an identification label beneath the lining of the brooch case.”
Silence.
“What kind of label?”
“White, blue lettering, numerical marking.”
“Could be a repair inventory tag.”
“Or an auction label.”
Daniel understood immediately.
Three years earlier, Celeste Vane had donated several personal pieces to a benefit auction shortly before her death. Public records showed the proceeds going to the foundation’s family housing initiative. The brooch had been the centerpiece of the event.
If Marcus possessed it now, someone had bought it back.
That was not necessarily illegal. If he had used personal funds, it was merely strange. If a foundation vendor had purchased it and transferred it to him, it might be evidence of self-dealing.
“I’ll have someone examine it,” Daniel said.
“Photograph the label before removing anything.”
“I know how to process evidence.”
“I know.”
“You cannot contact the hotel, local police, the auction house, or anyone associated with the case.”
“I know.”
“And you cannot interview Sophie.”
“I’m her guardian. Talking to her is not an interview.”
“Evelyn.”
“She volunteered the information.”
“I’m not accusing you.”
“You sound like you are.”
“I’m trying to keep the defense from doing it first.”
Evelyn glanced at Sophie.
“Call me when you know.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Daniel.”
“I’ll call.”
He called six hours later.
The label belonged to Bellweather Auctions. Lot 117. Sale date fourteen months after Celeste Vane’s death.
The buyer of record was Halcyon Guest Services, a company that had received more than four million dollars in contracts from the Vane Foundation to provide temporary housing for families of hospitalized children.
Halcyon had no employees.
Its registered address was a mailbox in Delaware.
The brooch had sold for two hundred and eighty thousand dollars.
Daniel’s voice remained controlled as he explained the rest.
“The payment came from an account linked to one of the contractors in our warrant application. We’re seeking records now.”
“So Marcus panicked because the brooch connected him to Halcyon.”
“Maybe.”
“He falsely accused a child in front of two hundred witnesses because he thought she had seen the label.”
“Maybe.”
“He said it was his late mother’s brooch. He needed everyone to accept that ownership as normal before anyone asked how he got it back.”
“Maybe.”
“You can stop saying maybe.”
“No, I can’t. Neither can you.”
Evelyn walked to the kitchen window. The building across the alley had a rooftop garden where a man in a red cap watered tomatoes every evening. He was there now, moving slowly between planters, unaware that a white label beneath black velvet had shifted the direction of a federal investigation.
“What does the prosecutor say?”
“That it supports subpoenas. It does not prove Marcus directed the purchase.”
“Who signed for Halcyon?”
“A manager named Teresa Boyd.”
“I don’t know her.”
“Neither do we. Her listed address is vacant.”
“Keating?”
“No documented connection yet.”
“Anika Reyes would know.”
Daniel did not answer.
Anika was the Vane Foundation’s controller and the government’s original confidential source. Four months into Evelyn’s undercover work, Anika had provided internal spreadsheets showing that housing payments exceeded actual occupancy by millions. She had agreed to testify after agents corroborated the records.
Two weeks before the gala, she stopped answering secure messages.
The day after the gala, her attorney informed the government that she would no longer cooperate.
“Has anyone seen her?” Evelyn asked.
“She reported to work this morning.”
“Marcus let her return?”
“He needs to look stable.”
“Or he needs to keep her close.”
“We’re monitoring.”
“Does she know about the brooch?”
“We don’t know.”
“Let me speak to her.”
“No.”
“She trusted me.”
“She trusted your cover identity.”
“She knew who I was before she agreed to cooperate.”
“And now your face is on every screen in the country. Marcus’s lawyers are preparing a misconduct narrative, the Bureau is reviewing your decisions, and Anika has withdrawn. You are the last person who should approach her.”
Evelyn watched water run from the rooftop planters into a drain.
“You approved Sophie’s attendance.”
“Yes.”
“You argued it strengthened the cover.”
“Yes.”
“Are you telling review that?”
“I already did.”
The answer interrupted her anger.
Daniel continued.
“I said the decision was mine.”
“It wasn’t only yours.”
“No.”
“You don’t get to take it all because you’re my supervisor.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“It sounds like it.”
“I’m trying to keep us from turning guilt into a competition.”
May you like
Neither spoke for several seconds.
From the living room came the soft, uneven sound of Sophie playing scales on Claire’s old keyboard. She disliked practicing and only did it when she wanted noise without conversation.
