Chapter 4 - The Man My Father Trusted
I called Emily before Marcus could stop me.
She answered immediately.
"I'm fine."
"Where are you?"
"In the hotel room. Officer Bennett is outside."
"Lock the door."
"It is locked."
"Don't open it for anyone."
"Daniel, what's happening?"
I couldn't tell her about the photograph.
Not yet.
"Someone was at the cabin."
Her silence told me she understood there was more.
"Come back."
"I will."
Marcus took the photograph into evidence.
The SUV's plate turned out to be stolen.
No nearby camera captured a clear face.
Someone knew where we were going.
Someone knew exactly when we arrived.
That meant the leak was close.
On the drive back, Marcus asked me about everyone who had known my father's business affairs.
I listed names.
Lawyers.
Executives.
Family friends.
Board members.
Then one name made him stop writing.
"Richard Calloway."
Marcus looked up.
"Who is he?"
"My godfather."
Richard had been my father's closest friend.
He was seventy now.
Retired.
He had been at every birthday party I could remember.
He gave the toast at my wedding.
After my father died, Richard had helped me handle the estate.
Marcus asked, "Did your father trust him?"
"Completely."
The cassette had said the person behind it was someone Daniel trusts.
I didn't like where that thought led.
"Where is Richard now?"
"Palm Beach most of the year."
"Contact him."
I did.
He answered warmly.
"Daniel! I heard about Emily. Is she all right?"
The fact that he already knew bothered me.
"Who told you?"
"Your mother called me before she was arrested."
"When?"
"Yesterday."
"From custody?"
"No. Before."
I looked at Marcus.
"Richard, I found something belonging to Dad."
Silence.
"What?"
"A recording."
Another pause.
"What kind of recording?"
"Can we meet?"
"Of course."
"When can you come?"
"I'm actually in town."
I stopped breathing for a second.
"You are?"
"For a board meeting."
"You didn't tell me."
"I didn't know you were home."
Marcus mouthed, Where?
I asked.
Richard gave me the name of an old private club downtown.
We arranged to meet at four.
Marcus insisted on coming.
Richard didn't object.
At the hotel, Emily listened while I explained everything.
When I mentioned Richard, she frowned.
"He came to see your mother last month."
I stared at her.
"What?"
"At the guesthouse."
"When?"
"The week before your Denver trip."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I assumed you knew."
"I didn't."
"What were they doing?"
"I don't know. They argued."
"About what?"
"I heard your name."
That afternoon, Marcus and I met Richard.
He looked exactly as I remembered.
Silver hair.
Tailored charcoal suit.
Calm voice.
The reassuring presence of a man who had spent fifty years being welcomed into expensive rooms.
He hugged me.
"I'm sorry you're dealing with this."
I didn't hug back.
"Why were you meeting my mother?"
His expression barely changed.
"She asked for advice."
"About?"
"Your marriage."
I laughed once.
"That's convenient."
"Daniel."
"Did you know she locked Emily in the shed?"
"Absolutely not."
"Did you know what was in that shed?"
He looked at Marcus.
"This sounds like a police interview."
Marcus answered, "It can become one."
Richard leaned back.
"I knew your father kept records."
"Where?"
"I didn't know."
"Cabin 17?"
A flicker.
Tiny.
But I saw it.
"You know the cabin."
"I knew your father owned property."
"That's not what I asked."
Richard sighed.
"Yes. I knew about Cabin 17."
"Why did my mother tell me it burned?"
"I can't answer that."
"Can you answer why Dad recorded a message saying someone I trusted was behind the fraud?"
Richard's face went still.
"You found the tapes."
Not a question.
Marcus leaned forward.
"You knew about them."
Richard looked at me.
"Your father became paranoid."
"Rachel Monroe disappeared."
"Yes."
"Then Dad died."
"Yes."
"Do you still think he was paranoid?"
Richard rubbed his forehead.
"There are things you were too young to understand."
"I was twenty-four."
"You were grieving."
"Tell me now."
He looked toward the window.
"Your father discovered accounts tied to organized financial crimes."
"What kind?"
"Money laundering."
"For whom?"
"I don't know."
"Who was involved?"
"Margaret."
"My mother."
"Partly."
"Who else?"
Richard's eyes moved toward Marcus.
Then back to me.
"I won't discuss this here."
Marcus said, "Why not?"
"Because I don't know who is listening."
He stood.
"We leave separately."
"Where are we going?" I asked.
Richard wrote an address on a napkin.
"Your father's old office building."
"That building was demolished."
"The original basement wasn't."
Marcus stiffened.
"What is there?"
Richard's voice lowered.
"The rest of the recording."
We followed him an hour later.
The property was now a commercial parking structure.
Richard entered through a maintenance door using an old key.
Below ground, behind electrical panels, was a locked archival room.
Inside were shelves of documents.
He opened a safe.
Empty.
Richard stared.
"No."
"What?" Marcus asked.
"It was here."
"What?"
"A ledger."
Richard began checking drawers.
"Someone took it."
"Who knew?" Marcus demanded.
"Three people."
"Names."
"Your father."
"Dead."
"Me."
"And?"
Richard looked at me.
"Margaret."
My phone rang.
Emily.
I answered.
"Daniel?"
Her voice was low.
"What's wrong?"
"Someone called the room."
"Who?"
"They didn't say."
"What did they want?"
"They asked if you found the basement."
I looked at Richard.
"What exactly did they say?"
Emily whispered:
"They said, 'Tell Daniel Richard is lying.'"
Richard heard.
His face drained.
Marcus stepped toward him.
"Why would someone say that?"
Richard didn't answer.
Then a noise came from behind the shelves.
A mechanical click.
Marcus raised his weapon.
"Stay back."
One section of shelving shifted forward.
There was another room behind it.
Richard stared as if he had never seen it.
"That wasn't here before."
Marcus pulled the panel open.
Inside was a desk.
One chair.
And a video monitor.
The screen was already on.
A live feed showed Emily's hotel hallway.
Her door.
Officer Bennett sitting outside.
Then the image changed.
Another camera.
Inside Emily's hotel room.
She was standing beside the bed, holding the phone to her ear.
Someone was watching my wife from inside the room.
I shouted into the phone.
"Emily, get out!"
May you like
She turned toward the door.
Then the hotel-room lights went black.
