Chapter 8
The fluorescent lights of the precinct break room hummed with a low, irritating frequency. Martha sat at the battered metal table, staring into a paper cup of lukewarm tea. The courtroom victory had bought them time, but the underlying tension remained thick enough to cut with a knife. The forensic audit of Eleanor’s accounts was underway, but corporate shell companies were notoriously difficult to unravel within a matter of days.
The door pushed open, and Detective Thomas walked in, holding a thick stack of printed bank statements. He dropped them onto the table with a heavy thud, pulling out a chair and sitting down hard.
“The forensic team found the primary pipeline,” Thomas said, his voice exhausted. He rubbed his eyes, which were bloodshot from lack of sleep. “Eleanor wasn't just skimming from the estate. She was liquidating trust assets to fund a private real estate venture in the Cayman Islands under a dummy corporation named ‘Blackwood Holdings International.’”
Martha looked at the top page, scanning the endless rows of numerical transfers. “And Arthur found out?”
“That’s why he locked the ledgers in the floor safe,” Thomas confirmed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “He realized too late that he had signed power of attorney over to her during his recovery from a minor stroke two years ago. She had legal control over everything. The house, the fortune, the charitable foundation. The only obstacle left between her and total ownership was Leo.”
Martha felt a cold shiver run down her spine. “The boy knew too much. He saw her moving things out of the safe weeks before the fire. That’s why she locked him in his room.”
“And that’s why she needs to be stopped permanently,” Thomas said grimly. “The audit gives us probable cause for financial fraud and embezzlement. But we still don't have the smoking gun for the arson charge. The fire marshal’s report is leaning heavily toward an accidental electrical fault in the library hearth. Without proof she set the fire, the prosecutor won't touch a murder charge.”
Martha stood up, walking over to the small window that looked out onto the rainy parking lot. “She’s arrogant, Thomas. People like Eleanor believe they are above the law because they’ve never had to face consequences. She thinks she’s won already.”
“She’s panicking,” Thomas corrected her. “Her legal team filed three emergency motions in the last hour trying to block the forensic audit. Desperate people make mistakes. We just need to be ready when she slips up.”
A soft chime from Thomas’s cell phone broke the silence. He pulled the device from his coat pocket, glanced at the screen, and his expression instantly hardened.
“That was the hospital security desk,” Thomas said, standing up abruptly. “Eleanor’s private security detail just tried to enter Leo’s room with an unauthorized transfer order signed by a corrupted family court judge.”
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Martha didn't wait for him to finish. She grabbed her coat from the back of the chair and bolted through the break room door, her heart hammering against her ribs.
***
