Chapter 4 - The Price of Doing the Right Thing
By noon, Arthur Calder knew about the threat.
By twelve-ten, he was standing inside our apartment.
He looked completely different.
Navy suit.
White shirt.
Polished shoes.
But the eyes were the same.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Mason crossed his arms.
“For what?”
“For bringing Lily into something larger than she understood.”
“I walked into it myself,” I said.
Arthur shook his head.
“No. You served soup.”
He looked around our apartment.
At the stack of overdue notices.
At Mason's laptop.
At the envelope marked RENT.
He didn't comment.
That made me respect him more.
Arthur asked Mason to explain the suspicious transactions.
For nearly an hour, they went through spreadsheets.
Mason identified shell vendors.
Repeated invoices.
Hotel renovation expenses approved without corresponding construction records.
One company appeared more than any other.
Northbridge Strategic Services.
Arthur stared at the name.
“I've never heard of it.”
Adrian had.
“It was approved through Price's division.”
Arthur leaned back.
“How much?”
“Over five years?”
Adrian looked at Mason.
Mason calculated.
“Possibly eleven million.”
Arthur's face remained still.
Only his fingers moved.
Once.
A tap against the table.
“Find it.”
Adrian nodded.
Arthur looked at Mason.
“Would you be willing to cooperate?”
Mason laughed without humor.
“I lost my job over this.”
“That wasn't my question.”
Mason looked at me.
“Yes.”
Arthur stood.
Before leaving, he handed me an envelope.
I frowned.
“What is this?”
“Your lost wages.”
“No.”
“Lily—”
“No.”
Arthur seemed surprised.
“I appreciate what you're trying to do. But if you pay me because I defended you, then what I did becomes a transaction.”
He stared at me.
Then slowly put the envelope away.
“All right.”
At the door, he stopped.
“What would make this right?”
“Make sure the next employee doesn't have to choose between dignity and rent.”
Arthur said nothing.
But I could tell he heard me.
That afternoon, Greg called again.
The security footage wasn't entirely gone.
One backup existed.
A maintenance server automatically copied fragments every fifteen minutes.
At six, Adrian brought us to The Meridian Room.
The restaurant was closed.
No chandeliers.
No guests.
No Vanessa.
Table twelve remained exactly where it had been.
Greg sat at a laptop.
“I found this.”
The video began.
There was no audio.
Vanessa pointed.
I answered.
Arthur lowered his spoon.
Greg approached.
I removed my apron.
Then the footage skipped forward.
1:13 a.m.
A figure entered the manager's office.
Greg paused the video.
“That's Charles,” Mason said.
Greg shook his head.
“No.”
The figure turned.
Vanessa.
She was wearing a baseball cap and dark coat.
She sat at the computer.
Inserted something.
A USB drive.
Adrian leaned closer.
“Can you zoom?”
Greg did.
Vanessa removed the drive after several minutes.
Then another person entered.
We couldn't see the face.
Vanessa stood immediately.
The person's hand appeared.
A man's hand.
A large ring.
Arthur leaned toward the screen.
“What?”
Adrian looked at him.
“You recognize it?”
Arthur didn't answer.
Greg advanced the video.
The unidentified man pointed toward the computer.
Vanessa nodded.
Then both left.
Mason stared.
“Can you recover what was on the USB?”
“Maybe.”
Greg removed a small external drive.
“I copied everything before calling you.”
The lights suddenly went out.
Complete darkness.
“Greg?”
No answer.
Something crashed near the kitchen.
Adrian switched on his phone flashlight.
“Stay here.”
He moved toward the hallway.
Arthur followed.
I grabbed Mason's hand.
Then the emergency lights flickered on.
Greg was standing near the office door.
His face was white.
The external drive was gone.
“Someone took it.”
Adrian rushed toward the rear exit.
Open.
The alley beyond was empty.
Then Arthur's phone rang.
He answered.
Nobody spoke.
Arthur listened.
His face changed.
“Who is this?”
A distorted voice came through loudly enough for us to hear.
“Stop looking into Northbridge.”
Arthur's jaw tightened.
“Or?”
A pause.
Then the voice said:
“Ask Lily what happened to her husband.”
I turned.
Mason wasn't beside me anymore.
May you like
The rear door was still swinging.
And his phone was lying on the floor.
