Part 6
“I’m not asking it to.”
“What are you asking?”
“For the chance to stop being protected from the consequences of my own negligence.”
Something in his face shifted, though not enough to call sympathy.
“You may watch,” he said. “You will not touch anything.”
Back at the mansion, the library looked wrong under daylight.
The velvet daybed had been stripped for evidence. Small numbered markers dotted the carpet. The emergency monitor sat unplugged in a plastic container. The wall screen remained black.
A deputy brought the maritime atlas from the third shelf. It was a nineteenth-century volume large enough to require both hands.
Rusk opened it on the reading table.
The center pages had been cut into a shallow compartment.
Inside lay a black paper ledger wrapped in waxed cloth.
Celeste stared at Edwin’s neat handwriting.
Dates. Initials. Payment amounts. Vendor names. Notes in abbreviated phrases.
Rusk turned the pages slowly.
“What is it?” Celeste asked.
“Looks like a second set of accounts.”
“For the foundation?”
“And the estate.”
She leaned closer without touching.
Several entries bore the initials B.M.
Beatrice Marrow.
Others bore A.S.
Adrian Shah.
Celeste felt him stiffen beside her.
“What does it say?” he asked.
Rusk read one line. “A.S., medical review, seventy-five thousand.”
Adrian’s face went still. “I have never received seventy-five thousand dollars from this family.”
Another entry read L.O., resolution, twelve thousand.
Lena Ortiz.
Celeste’s pulse quickened.
“She was paid nothing.”
Rusk turned several pages. “These may not be payments received. They may be allocations, planned expenditures, leverage, or fabricated records.”
Near the back, the handwriting changed. The lines became cramped and less orderly.
C.M. authorization exposure.
E.V. extraction risk.
Final audit before September board.
Rusk photographed each page.
A folded sheet was tucked beneath the back cover. It contained a list of dates and security camera numbers. Beside one date, Edwin had written: Corridor audio proves meeting.
Celeste pointed. “Lena said he asked whether the corridor camera recorded sound.”
Rusk nodded.
Owen stood near the doors. “It doesn’t.”
“Could it have?” Rusk asked.
“Not officially.”
“What does that mean?”
Owen glanced at Celeste. “Mr. Vale asked me to install a temporary microphone in the corridor last month.”
Celeste turned. “You did?”
“He said there had been threats against the family. I told him recording private conversations without notice could create legal problems. He said it was an internal security test.”
“Where is the recording?”
“I don’t know. He removed the device himself.”
Rusk wrote something down. “Who knew about it?”
“Edwin. Me. Possibly whoever he intended to record.”
“Why didn’t you mention this last night?”
Owen’s jaw tightened. “Because I had no reason to connect a removed microphone to an assault.”
“You had a reason to mention secret surveillance in a murder investigation.”
“Attempted murder,” Celeste said.
Rusk looked at her. “At the moment.”
The distinction made the room colder.
Beatrice arrived before noon wearing pearl earrings and controlled displeasure.
She insisted on speaking to Celeste privately, which Rusk refused. She settled for the far end of the drawing room while a deputy remained by the door.
“This is becoming grotesque,” Beatrice said.
“Edwin kept records of payments connected to you.”
“Edwin kept records of everything.”
“Four hundred eighty thousand dollars entered his accounts.”
Beatrice’s expression changed, then recovered. “That is impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because Edwin had no use for money.”
“Everyone has a use for money.”
“Not Edwin.”
Celeste almost admired the certainty. “He asked Lena to resign.”
“Then he finally showed judgment.”
“She saved his life.”
“And we are all grateful.”
“You accused her of harming him without saying a word.”
“I reacted to what was in front of me.”
“So did I.”
Beatrice moved toward the window. The fog had lifted enough to reveal a gray strip of ocean.
“You are not yourself,” she said.
“I’m beginning to suspect I have never been.”
“Please spare me.”
“Did you receive money from Northlight?”
Beatrice turned slowly. “No.”
“Did you know the company?”
“No.”
“Your initials appear in Edwin’s ledger.”
“My initials appear in hundreds of documents. So do yours.”
“Did you meet someone in the glass corridor?”
Beatrice’s face lost color.
Celeste noticed.
“When?”
“I didn’t say I had.”
“You didn’t need to.”
Beatrice looked toward the deputy, then lowered her voice. “Edwin came to me last month. He believed foundation money was being misdirected.”
“By whom?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
“What did he want from you?”
“Access to archived board minutes. Your father’s private files. He thought the scheme began before you took control.”
“Did you give them to him?”
“Some.”
“Why secretly?”
“Because if Edwin was wrong, I had no intention of humiliating him. And if he was right, I needed to know how much damage had been done before you heard of it.”
Celeste stared at her. “You were protecting me.”
“Someone had to.”
“From what? Knowing where my signature went?”
“From panic. From trustees. From the press. From yourself.”
Celeste laughed under her breath. “There it is.”
“What?”
“The family talent. We call control protection until everyone forgets the difference.”
Beatrice’s mouth hardened. “You are upset.”
“I threw an innocent woman onto the floor because I trusted what this house taught me to see.”
“That is not my fault.”
“No. But you helped teach me.”
Beatrice looked away first.
Sheriff Rusk entered carrying a printout.
“Forensic accounting traced Northlight’s registration,” he said. “It was created by a law firm in Boston on behalf of a private client.”
“Who?” Celeste asked.
“The firm claims privilege.”
“Can you compel them?”
“We’re working on it.”
He handed the printout to Beatrice.
She read the name of the law firm and sat down.
Celeste watched her. “You know them.”
Beatrice’s fingers tightened around the paper. “They represented your father.”
“For what?”
“A medical settlement.”
Adrian, standing near the fireplace, looked up.
“What medical settlement?” Celeste asked.
Beatrice folded the paper once. “Your father funded a private neurological research program fifteen years ago.”
May you like
“I know about the Marrow Cognitive Health Initiative.”
“You know the public version.”
