Chapter 2 - Victor was in the library.He was always in the library when I needed him.
That had been one of the things I liked about him.
He was predictable.
Predictability made powerful men comfortable.
I stood outside the door for several seconds before entering.
Victor was seated near the fireplace, reading a financial report.
He did not look up.
“You sent for me?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“You looked unsettled at breakfast.”
I closed the door.
“Did I?”
“Yes.”
Victor turned a page.
“That isn’t like you.”
I walked to the drinks cabinet and poured myself water.
Not coffee.
Not tea.
Nothing that had passed through anyone else's hands.
“You've worked for me a long time.”
“Twenty-five years.”
“Do you remember the first day?”
“I do.”
“What happened?”
Victor smiled.
“You were thirty-two. You had inherited a company you didn't understand, a mansion you hated, and a board of directors waiting to watch you fail.”
“You stayed.”
“You needed someone.”
“And you became that person.”
Victor looked up.
“You make it sound sinister.”
“I’m not making anything sound like anything.”
Silence.
Then Victor asked, “Is this about the medication?”
There it was.
I had not mentioned it.
I slowly turned.
“Why would it be?”
He paused.
Just half a second.
Then he smiled.
“Sophia frightened you.”
“Maybe.”
“Children invent stories.”
“She said you touched the bottle.”
“She was drawing in the kitchen. She saw me checking the breakfast tray. That is all.”
I stepped closer.
“Did you touch the bottle?”
“No.”
He was lying.
I knew it.
He knew I knew it.
But neither of us said anything.
The phone on the desk rang.
Victor glanced at it.
His expression changed.
“Excuse me.”
He reached for the receiver.
I noticed the screen.
Internal extension.
Kitchen.
Victor answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then his voice softened.
“Understood.”
He hung up.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
I smiled.
“Victor.”
“Yes?”
“You always say nothing when something is important.”
He returned to his papers.
“I have learned that some things become important only after people make them so.”
I left.
Gabriel was waiting at the end of the corridor.
“Well?”
“He knows.”
“Knows what?”
“That I’m suspicious.”
Gabriel nodded.
“I found something.”
He handed me a sealed envelope.
Inside was a printed access log.
Someone had entered the medicine room at 8:11.
The credentials belonged to Victor.
I stared at the page.
“That's enough.”
“No.”
Gabriel tapped the second line.
“Look at the next entry.”
A second access.
At 8:13.
My own credentials.
I looked up.
“I wasn't there.”
“I know.”
Someone had used my identity to enter the medicine room.
And now the timeline was complete.
8:11.
Victor enters.
8:12.
The bottle is opened.
8:13.
My credentials appear.
8:18.
Camera footage resumes.
Someone had built a story.
A story in which I had handled my own medication.
A story designed to survive an investigation.
Gabriel lowered his voice.
“There's more.”
He opened another file.
A transaction.
A private transfer from one of my holding companies.
Five hundred thousand dollars.
Recipient: Crown Meridian Advisory.
“What is that?”
“I don't know.”
“When was it sent?”
“Three months ago.”
“Who authorized it?”
Victor.
My stomach tightened.
“Show me all transfers.”
Gabriel hesitated.
“We found twelve.”
“Twelve?”
“Over the past three months.”
I looked at the screen.
Total amount:
$6.8 million.
Victor had moved nearly seven million dollars from my companies into an entity I had never heard of.
“Why didn't accounting flag this?”
“Because the invoices were legitimate.”
“What did they pay for?”
“Consulting.”
“For what?”
“That is the strange part.”
Gabriel turned another page.
“Every invoice relates to estate planning.”
I stared at him.
Estate planning.
My will.
My trusts.
My death.
A sound came from the corridor.
Footsteps.
We closed the file.
Victor appeared.
He smiled.
“Julian.”
“Victor.”
“I wondered where you had gone.”
“Working.”
“As usual.”
He glanced at Gabriel.
“Could I speak with Julian alone?”
Gabriel looked at me.
I nodded.
He left.
Victor closed the door.
“I've arranged for your cardiologist to see you this afternoon.”
“I don't need an appointment.”
“He requested one.”
“Why?”
“Your recent tests.”
“What recent tests?”
Victor looked surprised.
“You had bloodwork done last week.”
“I didn't.”
His expression changed.
Then he smiled again.
“The clinic may have confused your file.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“You booked an appointment under my name.”
Victor held my gaze.
“It was for your benefit.”
“What else have you done for my benefit?”
Silence.
Then Victor sighed.
“You are frightened.”
“I've killed men who were trying to frighten me.”
“I know.”
“Then don't patronize me.”
He looked down.
For the first time in twenty-five years, I saw something in Victor's eyes that looked almost like pity.
“You should listen to your body,” he said.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your condition is worse than you think.”
He walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
Without turning around, he said:
“Not everything dangerous comes in a bottle.”
The door closed.
I stood alone.
My phone vibrated.
Another message.
LOOK UNDER THE THIRD FLOOR FLOORBOARD.
I stared at it.
Then another arrived.
BEFORE VICTOR GETS THERE.
I looked at the ceiling.
There was a third floor.
Victor had keys to every room.
I ran upstairs.
And when I reached the hallway, I saw something that made my blood turn cold.
May you like
A section of floorboard was already lifted.
Someone had gotten there first.
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