Chapter 9 - VICTORIA’S STORY
Victoria cried beautifully.
Elena realized that within minutes.
She sat in the drawing room with federal investigators and told them she had discovered suspicious financial activity months earlier.
She claimed Julian had manipulated company accounts.
She claimed Richard had ignored warning signs.
She claimed Elena had been helping Julian remove documents.
Every lie came wrapped in concern.
“I’m his mother.”
Victoria dabbed her eyes.
“I prayed I was wrong.”
Julian stood outside the room listening through the partially open door.
His expression was unreadable.
Elena touched his arm.
“Don’t go in there.”
“She’s destroying me.”
“That’s what she wants.”
Richard joined them.
“My attorneys are coming.”
Julian laughed without humor.
“Can attorneys explain why millions of dollars are sitting in a company with my forged signature?”
“No.”
Elena held up the tiny second key.
“But this might.”
She had spent the last hour studying her mother’s pendant.
Tiny numbers were engraved inside.
14-327.
Richard recognized the format.
“Safe-deposit box.”
“At which bank?”
Richard thought.
“Your grandfather used First Continental.”
The bank had been absorbed by another institution years ago.
But records showed the original vault remained in downtown Manhattan.
Julian looked toward the investigators.
“We can’t leave.”
Elena could.
She was not named in the warrant.
Richard gave her his car keys.
“Go.”
Julian stopped her.
“Elena.”
She turned.
“If that box contains anything that clears me…”
“I’ll bring it back.”
“No.”
He looked toward his mother.
“Make copies first.”
Elena understood.
He no longer trusted evidence to survive inside the Harrington mansion.
Neither did she.
She reached the bank shortly before closing.
The vault manager examined the key.
Then the numbers.
His expression became curious.
“This box hasn’t been opened since 1998.”
“Who rented it?”
He checked.
“Samuel Torres.”
Elena’s hands began trembling.
After completing identity verification, she followed him underground.
Box 14-327 was small.
Inside were three things.
A ledger.
A photograph.
And a sealed envelope addressed to ISABEL.
Elena opened the envelope.
Her grandfather’s handwriting covered six pages.
He described unauthorized transfers.
Bribes.
Fake companies.
And a plan to confront Victoria Mercer.
Then Elena reached the final paragraph.
Her knees nearly gave out.
Samuel wrote that Victoria wasn’t acting alone.
Someone inside Harrington Holdings had authorized every transfer.
Someone Samuel had trusted.
Someone Richard had trusted even more.
Elena stared at the name.
Then she looked at the photograph.
Samuel stood beside Victoria.
And beside them stood Richard’s younger brother, Thomas Harrington.
Elena whispered the sentence at the bottom of Samuel’s letter.
“If anything happens to me, Thomas Harrington ordered it.”
Elena had never met Thomas.
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According to the Harrington family, he had died twenty-three years earlier.
Apparently, their family had more than one dead man who refused to stay dead.
