Chapter 3 - The Man Bastion Trusted Most
"His name was Nathan Cole," Beatrice said.
Bastion placed the photograph on the hood of Adrian's car.
"Was?"
"He died eight years ago."
"How?"
"Car accident."
"You saw the body?"
Beatrice looked at him.
"No."
Bastion said nothing.
She hated that silence because she knew exactly what it meant.
She had accepted a fact without verifying it.
For a forensic accountant, that was unforgivable.
Nathan had been fifty-two when Beatrice met him.
She had been twenty-seven, ambitious, exhausted, and still learning that intelligence did not protect anyone from office politics.
Nathan had recognized something in her.
Not potential.
Defiance.
"You don't have to make yourself smaller to make mediocre people comfortable," he'd told her.
She had never forgotten it.
He taught her forensic accounting.
Shell-company tracing.
Beneficial ownership.
How criminals disguised patterns by making transactions boring.
Most importantly, he taught her that complicated financial fraud almost always contained one simple human weakness.
Greed.
Fear.
Love.
Revenge.
Find the weakness and the numbers made sense.
Then Nathan died.
At least, that was what Beatrice had believed.
Bastion studied her.
"Could he be alive?"
"I don't know."
"That's not good enough."
She turned on him.
"I found out thirty seconds ago that a dead man from my past knew your CFO. Forgive me for not having an audited answer ready."
His jaw tightened.
Then relaxed.
"Fair."
Tomas approached.
"We have movement near the north ramp."
Bastion looked toward the exit.
"We leave."
This time Beatrice didn't argue.
They took a different vehicle.
Tomas drove.
Bastion and Beatrice sat in the back.
No one spoke for several minutes.
Manhattan moved beyond the windows.
Normal people crossed streets.
Restaurants remained open.
Taxis honked.
The city hadn't noticed that Beatrice Abbott's understanding of her own past had just cracked open.
Bastion finally spoke.
"Where did Cole work?"
"Different firms. Consulting mostly."
"Any connection to Mercer?"
"Not that I knew."
"Did he ever mention Adrian?"
"No."
"Did he ever mention me?"
She thought.
Then froze.
Bastion noticed.
"What?"
"There was one case."
"When?"
"About nine years ago."
Nathan had been unusually secretive.
He disappeared for several weeks.
When he returned, he told Beatrice he had been consulting for a private transportation company.
She had teased him about becoming mysterious.
Nathan hadn't laughed.
Instead he had told her something strange.
"If anything happens to me, don't assume the numbers are the dangerous part."
At the time, she thought he was being dramatic.
Six months later, he was dead.
Beatrice looked at Bastion.
"He worked for you."
"I never hired him."
"Maybe someone in your company did."
Bastion's phone suddenly regained signal.
Messages flooded in.
He called someone immediately.
"Lock every financial account. Suspend executive authorization. Nobody moves money without my approval."
Pause.
"Find Adrian."
Another pause.
Bastion's eyes narrowed.
"When?"
He ended the call.
"Adrian's missing."
Tomas looked into the mirror.
"Since when?"
"Seven tonight."
Beatrice frowned.
"His car returned at 8:43."
"Without him."
"Someone wanted us to find it."
"Yes."
They reached another Mercer property.
Not a hotel.
A quiet office building downtown.
Bastion took Beatrice to a secure conference room.
For the next two hours, they reconstructed Nathan Cole's connection to Mercer Logistics.
At 2:17 a.m., Beatrice found it.
A consulting payment.
Nine years earlier.
Nathan Cole had received $240,000 from a subsidiary.
The approving executive had been Adrian Vale.
"Adrian hired him," Beatrice said.
Bastion leaned over her shoulder.
"For what?"
The project description contained only two words.
STRUCTURAL REVIEW.
Beatrice searched archived files.
Nothing.
Then she checked dormant backup indexes.
One result.
A scanned memorandum.
She opened it.
Nathan's signature appeared at the bottom.
Bastion read over her shoulder.
The report described unauthorized transfers hidden inside Mercer Logistics years earlier.
Not forty million.
Five million.
Same methodology.
Same type of shell corporations.
Same transaction splitting.
Beatrice felt sick.
"This happened before."
Bastion's voice was quiet.
"And Adrian knew."
"Yes."
"Why didn't he tell me?"
Beatrice continued reading.
Then she reached Nathan's final paragraph.
Her pulse stopped.
"I think he tried."
She pointed.
Nathan had recommended an immediate internal investigation.
Beside the recommendation was a handwritten notation.
INVESTIGATION CLOSED BY EXECUTIVE ORDER.
Bastion stared.
"I never ordered that."
"I believe you."
"Who could?"
Beatrice checked the historical corporate structure.
Three names.
One was Adrian.
One was Bastion.
The third was a man named Julian Mercer.
Bastion's older half-brother.
Beatrice turned.
"You have a brother?"
"Had."
That word again.
Was.
Had.
Dead people were becoming inconveniently important.
"What happened to him?"
"Julian died seven years ago."
Beatrice almost laughed.
Bastion didn't.
She opened another archive.
Julian Mercer had officially died overseas.
No body had been returned.
Only documentation.
Beatrice looked at Bastion.
"You people need to start seeing bodies."
He didn't appreciate the joke.
At 3:04 a.m., Tomas entered.
"We found Adrian."
"Where?"
Tomas hesitated.
"St. Vincent's Hospital."
Bastion stood.
"What happened?"
"Someone left him outside the emergency entrance."
"Alive?"
"Yes."
Beatrice closed the laptop.
"I'm coming."
"No."
She looked at Bastion.
"We're not doing this."
"You're staying here."
"Adrian may know Nathan."
"Which makes him dangerous."
"Or useful."
"Beatrice."
"Bastion."
Tomas wisely stared at the wall.
Finally Bastion sighed.
"Stay beside me."
"That sounded almost polite."
"Don't get accustomed to it."
At the hospital, Adrian Vale looked nothing like the polished executive from his corporate photograph.
He was pale and exhausted.
A bruise marked his forehead.
The doctor allowed Bastion and Beatrice five minutes.
Adrian opened his eyes.
When he saw Bastion, relief crossed his face.
Then he saw Beatrice.
Fear replaced it.
"You."
Beatrice stepped closer.
"Do you know me?"
"No."
"You knew Nathan Cole."
Adrian's breathing changed.
Bastion noticed.
"Tell her."
Adrian looked toward the door.
"They'll hear."
"Who?"
Adrian swallowed.
"Julian."
Bastion became motionless.
"My brother is dead."
"No."
One word.
Everything changed.
Adrian grabbed Bastion's sleeve.
"He never died."
Beatrice felt cold.
Adrian continued.
"Eight years ago Nathan found the first accounts. Julian discovered he was investigating. Nathan tried to warn you."
"Why didn't he?"
"Because Julian threatened his family."
Beatrice's throat tightened.
"What happened to Nathan?"
Adrian looked at her.
"I helped him disappear."
Silence.
Beatrice couldn't breathe.
"He's alive?"
Adrian nodded.
"Where?"
"I don't know anymore."
Bastion stepped closer.
"And Julian?"
Adrian's eyes filled with terror.
"He built the forty million."
"Why?"
"To take everything."
"Why now?"
Adrian looked directly at Beatrice.
"Because she found him."
A noise came from the hallway.
Adrian's eyes widened.
"He's here."
Bastion turned.
The hospital-room door slowly opened.
A man appeared in the gap.
Gray suit.
Silver hair.
A familiar face.
May you like
Bastion whispered one word.
"Julian..."
