Chương 14
Elena showered first. Sophia sat at the dining table while Nora prepared two cups of coffee from a single-serve machine that groaned louder than necessary.
“You look disappointed,” Nora said.
“I thought prosecutors had better coffee.”
“Taxpayers are cruel.”
Sophia accepted the cup but did not drink. Her lip stitches pulled when she tried.
Nora sat opposite her. Without the tan coat, she looked smaller and more tired. A faint ink mark crossed the side of her hand.
“How long have you been investigating Brightline?” Sophia asked.
“Eleven months.”
“And Marcus?”
“Longer.”
“Julian?”
Nora looked at the coffee. “Longer.”
“Was I bait?”
“No.”
“Was the workers’ clinic bait?”
“It was a legitimate clinic. My office partnered with attorneys handling wage theft because financial records connected several service companies to shell accounts. We were looking for workers willing to document missing wages.”
“You knew Brightline was connected to Marcus.”
“We suspected.”
“You let us keep working.”
Nora’s eyes rose. “We did not know workers were being physically threatened.”
“You knew money was being stolen.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you shut it down?”
“Because suspicion is not enough to shut down a company. We needed records, witnesses, warrants. If we acted too early, the owners could move the accounts and reopen under another name.”
“So you waited.”
“Yes.”
“And Marcus found me first.”
Nora’s mouth tightened. “Yes.”
The answer contained no defense.
Sophia turned the coffee cup slowly. “Julian said you might be investigating him.”
“We are.”
“For what?”
“I cannot discuss it.”
“He admitted he was a criminal.”
“That may save time socially. It does not prove a charge.”
Sophia almost smiled. “You sound like him.”
“I hope not.”
“You both tell the truth in pieces and call it discipline.”
Nora leaned back.
“Fair,” she said.
Elena emerged from the bathroom with wet hair and a towel wrapped around her shoulders. She looked at the coffee.
“Can I have one?”
“No,” Sophia and Nora said together.
Elena opened a cupboard. “You two are already becoming unbearable.”
The forensic laboratory opened the drive shortly after noon.
It contained three encrypted partitions.
The first held payroll databases from six companies, including Brightline. The files documented thousands of hours assigned to nonexistent workers, workers who had left the country, and workers whose identities had been used without their knowledge. Money had moved into accounts controlled by managers, consultants, and shell corporations.
The second partition held shipping manifests and payment schedules connected to warehouses in Brooklyn, Newark, and Elizabeth. Some shipments appeared legitimate. Others used duplicate container numbers, altered weights, and false inspection records.
The third partition could not be opened.
A text file outside the encrypted area contained one sentence:
JULIAN, ASK VINCENT WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR MOTHER’S DRIVER.
Nora read the sentence to Sophia in the protective apartment’s kitchen.
Sophia looked at the closed curtains.
“What does it mean?”
“We don’t know.”
“Julian might.”
“We have not told him about the third partition.”
“You told me before him?”
“The device was yours.”
Sophia heard the choice hidden in Nora’s phrasing. The evidence belonged to the government now, but the danger still belonged to Sophia.
“Tell him,” she said.
Nora studied her. “Why?”
“Because Marcus put that message there for him. If you hide it, Marcus controls when he learns.”
“He may react violently.”
“He may react violently anyway.”
“That is not a reason to hand him a provocation.”
“It’s a reason not to make me the only person carrying it.”
Nora rested both hands on the table. “Sophia, Julian Reeves is not simply a powerful man with questionable associates. He is suspected of directing extortion, illegal gambling, bribery, and violence. He may have saved you because Lane threatened his authority. He may be cooperating now because the drive gives him a way to eliminate rivals.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“No,” Sophia said. “But I know what you want me to do. You want me to trust the law because it is supposed to be cleaner than him.”
“I want you to use institutions that can be held accountable.”
“Can they?”
“Sometimes.”
“That is not much of a promise.”
“It is better than a man who answers to no one.”
Sophia looked toward the bathroom, where Elena was blow-drying her hair with the door open because she refused to be out of earshot.
“Then make him answer,” Sophia said. “Tell him what the message says while you record the call.”
Nora considered it.
They called Julian from a secured conference line.
Thomas answered first. He transferred the call without greeting.
Julian’s voice came through calm and slightly distant. “Sophia.”
“Nora is here.”
“I assumed.”
“They opened the drive.”
A pause. “What did they find?”
Nora summarized the first two partitions and omitted names not yet verified. Julian listened without interruption.
Then Sophia read the sentence.
The silence afterward lasted long enough for Elena to switch off the hair dryer.
“What happened to your mother’s driver?” Sophia asked.
Julian’s answer came carefully. “He died.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
“When?”
“Nineteen years ago.”
“Was your mother in the car?”
“Yes.”
Nora leaned toward the speaker. “Did she die?”
“No. She was injured.”
“What was the driver’s name?”
“Daniel Cruz.”
Sophia looked at Nora, who wrote it down.
Julian continued, “He was blamed for drinking. My mother insisted he had not.”
“What happened to her?” Sophia asked.
“She died three years later.”
“From the accident?”
“No.”
He did not explain.
Nora asked, “What does Vincent have to do with Daniel Cruz?”
“My uncle handled the insurance claim and internal review. He said Daniel had been gambling and drinking. My father paid the family and made the matter disappear.”
“Did you believe that?”
“I was nineteen. I believed whatever allowed my father to end a conversation.”
Sophia heard the self-contempt beneath the words.
“Why would Marcus know?” she asked.
“He worked for Vincent before he worked for me.”
Nora said, “The third partition may contain records related to the crash.”
May you like
“Or Marcus wants me to believe it does.”
“Can Vincent open it?”
