Chapter 4 - THE DEAD MAN WHO KEPT SIGNING CHECKS
Arthur Vance had been dead for twelve years.
I attended his funeral.
I remembered Eleanor wearing a black veil.
I remembered Julian standing beside the casket, twenty-two years old and pale with grief.
I remembered hundreds of people filling St. Mark's Cathedral.
Arthur had been a difficult man.
Controlling.
Proud.
Obsessed with legacy.
But even people who hated him admitted he built the Vance empire from almost nothing.
Hotels.
Commercial properties.
Shipping contracts.
Private lending.
By the time he died, the family fortune had become too complicated for any one person to understand.
That complexity was perfect for hiding theft.
"Rachel."
"I'm here."
"Tell me exactly what you're seeing."
"Give me a second."
I could hear her keyboard.
Then she swore.
Rachel almost never swore.
"What?"
"The approval chain is authentic."
"That's impossible."
"I didn't say the signature is authentic."
"What does that mean?"
"Someone used Arthur Vance's archived digital certificate."
My stomach tightened.
"After he died."
"Repeatedly."
"How many times?"
"At least fourteen."
I closed my eyes.
"Amounts?"
"Jesus."
"Rachel."
"Eight point two million."
My breath caught.
"Total?"
"No."
Silence.
"One transfer."
I pressed my fingers against my forehead.
"Total."
"I'm calculating."
More typing.
"Vivian."
"What?"
"Forty-three million."
The number didn't feel real.
Forty-three million dollars.
Moved through approvals issued in the name of a dead man.
"Destination?"
"Several."
"Arden Blue?"
"Some."
"What else?"
"Northstar Consulting."
"Who owns it?"
"I'm searching."
A nurse walked past the open doorway.
I lowered my voice.
"Can you freeze anything?"
"We can't freeze private assets."
"Preserve."
"Already doing it."
I heard more typing.
Then Rachel stopped again.
"What?"
"Northstar is registered to a nominee company."
"Where?"
"Delaware."
"Manager?"
"Hold on."
I heard her inhale.
"That's weird."
"What?"
"The registration contact is Martin Kessler."
Julian's attorney.
I stared at the wall.
"You sure?"
"Same middle initial."
"Could be coincidence."
"Maybe."
Neither of us believed that.
"Rachel."
"Yes?"
"Do not contact him."
"I wasn't planning to."
"I mean it."
"Vivian, I've done this longer than you have."
"I know."
Her voice softened.
"You sound scared."
"I am."
"Because of Julian?"
"No."
That surprised me.
Julian had hurt me.
Humiliated me.
Financially cornered me.
But when he warned me about Northstar, he hadn't sounded threatening.
He'd sounded afraid.
"Rachel, I think Julian just tried to protect me."
She went quiet.
"That would be new."
"Yes."
"Do you trust him?"
"No."
"Good."
I almost smiled.
"Rest."
"I can't."
"You just had a baby."
"Which is exactly why I can't."
"Vivian."
"Rachel, if Arthur's certificate was used last month, whoever did it still has access."
"I know."
"They could be deleting records."
"Not after the preservation order."
"They could still try."
"And if they do, it'll be logged."
I looked toward the hallway.
"Unless they control the logs."
Rachel paused.
"That's why I sent preservation copies outside the company."
I closed my eyes.
"Thank you."
"Name the baby yet?"
"No."
"You always liked Noah."
I had.
Before Julian.
Before Eleanor.
Before everything.
"Noah Carter."
Rachel repeated it.
"I like that."
I looked toward the nursery.
"So do I."
After the call, I lay there listening to the hospital.
Carts rolling.
Monitors beeping.
Shoes moving through hallways.
Somewhere, another baby cried.
I had never felt more exhausted.
Or more awake.
Twenty minutes later, Dr. Hale returned.
He carried a plastic cup of coffee and looked terrible.
"Where's the baby?"
"Nursery."
He nodded.
"Good."
"Good?"
"You need sleep."
"So does everyone keep telling me."
He pulled a chair closer.
"May I?"
I nodded.
He sat.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked the question that had been bothering me.
"Why were you in my delivery room?"
He looked surprised.
"Excuse me?"
"You're not an obstetrician."
"No."
"You're chief of neonatal medicine."
"Yes."
"So why were you there?"
He studied the coffee.
"I was called because your son's heart rate dropped briefly during delivery."
"I didn't know."
"Your obstetrician handled it well."
"Then why did you stay?"
His eyes moved toward the nursery.
"I don't know."
"Yes, you do."
He smiled faintly.
"You're an auditor."
"Unfortunately."
He nodded.
"When your baby was born, one nurse mentioned the syndactyly."
"And?"
"My family has a very specific pattern."
He looked at his left shoe.
"I told myself it was coincidence."
"Until you saw him."
"Until I saw his foot."
"And then Julian."
Dr. Hale's face tightened.
"I hadn't seen Eleanor's son since he was a child."
"You knew him?"
"Not personally."
He leaned back.
"Arthur brought Julian here after a skiing accident when he was twelve."
"Did you see him?"
"From across the emergency department."
"Did you suspect?"
"No."
"Why not?"
He laughed without humor.
"Because dead babies don't grow up."
That sentence sat heavily between us.
"I'm sorry."
He looked at me.
"So am I."
"Would you want a relationship with Julian?"
His expression became cautious.
"I don't know if Julian is my son."
"You think he is."
"Yes."
"That's not what I asked."
He looked down.
"I spent decades imagining the child I lost."
His voice changed.
"I used to calculate his age."
Ten.
Sixteen.
Twenty-one.
Thirty.
"I wondered what he would look like."
He rubbed his eyes.
"I wondered whether he would have become a doctor."
"Julian hates hospitals."
That made him laugh unexpectedly.
For one second, the tension disappeared.
Then he looked at me.
"What kind of man is he?"
I didn't answer immediately.
"He can be generous."
Dr. Hale waited.
"He can also be cruel."
"To you?"
"Yes."
His jaw tightened.
"Physically?"
"No."
"Good."
"Don't give him too much credit."
"I won't."
I stared at my hands.
"The worst thing Julian does is convince you that what he's doing is reasonable."
Dr. Hale listened.
"He never screams when a calm voice will hurt more."
"What happened?"
I looked at him.
"He filed for divorce after I told him I was pregnant."
Dr. Hale's face changed.
"He knew?"
"Yes."
"And he left?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
I thought about it.
"I used to think it was because he didn't love me anymore."
"And now?"
"I think he was scared."
"Of a baby?"
"Of what I'd find."
Dr. Hale frowned.
"I started asking questions about Vance Holdings shortly before I became pregnant."
Understanding crossed his face.
"You think the divorce was designed to remove your access."
"Maybe."
"Then why destroy your reputation?"
"To make people distrust me before I spoke."
Dr. Hale swore softly.
"You have proof?"
"Some."
"Enough?"
"I don't know."
A shadow appeared in the doorway.
Julian.
He had returned.
He looked at Dr. Hale sitting beside my bed.
His expression tightened.
"Can I speak to Vivian?"
Dr. Hale stood.
"You can ask her."
Julian looked at me.
I nodded once.
Dr. Hale left.
Julian waited until the door closed.
Then he locked it.
My heart changed rhythm.
"What are you doing?"
He held up both hands.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
"Unlock the door."
"Vivian."
"Now."
He stared at me.
Then he unlocked it.
"Happy?"
"No."
He sat.
"Did you call Rachel?"
I didn't answer.
He nodded.
"Then she found Northstar."
"Why was Arthur's digital certificate used after his death?"
Julian looked toward the door.
"Because my mother never deactivated it."
"That doesn't answer why."
"I know."
"Who used it?"
"I don't know."
"Julian."
"I don't."
"Martin?"
His face gave him away.
"You think Martin."
Julian rubbed his hands together.
"Six years ago, I found an approval I knew Dad couldn't have signed."
"What did you do?"
"I asked my mother."
"And?"
"She told me it was a system migration."
"You believed that?"
"I wanted to."
"That's not the same thing."
"No."
"What happened next?"
"I asked Martin."
"And?"
"He told me the same thing."
"Convenient."
"Yes."
"When did you realize it wasn't?"
Julian leaned forward.
"Last year."
My stomach tightened.
"Before our divorce."
"Yes."
"What did you find?"
"Payments."
"To whom?"
He looked at me.
"Your old law firm."
Everything inside me went still.
"What?"
"Not the firm itself."
"Who?"
"A partner."
"Name."
"Victor Sloan."
Rachel's father.
My former mentor.
The man who had trained me.
The man who recommended me for every major forensic case of my career.
I shook my head.
"No."
Julian stared at me.
"I'm sorry."
"No."
"Vivian."
"No."
"Victor received nearly nine million dollars through Northstar over eight years."
"That's impossible."
"I have the records."
"Rachel would know."
"Would she?"
I looked at him.
"You don't know her."
"I know what nine million dollars buys."
My face burned.
"Don't."
"I'm not accusing Rachel."
"You just did."
"I'm telling you why you need to be careful."
I stood too quickly.
Pain tore through my abdomen.
I grabbed the bed rail.
Julian jumped up.
"Sit down."
"Don't touch me."
"Vivian."
"Don't."
I lowered myself back onto the mattress.
My heart pounded.
"Why didn't you tell me this before?"
"Because I didn't know if you were involved."
I stared at him.
"What?"
"You're close to Rachel."
"So?"
"Victor trained you."
"So?"
"You started asking questions."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"You thought I was part of it."
"For about a week."
"A week?"
"Then I realized you weren't."
"How?"
He looked ashamed.
"I had someone follow you."
I laughed.
It hurt.
"You had me followed."
"Yes."
"While I was pregnant."
"Yes."
"Before you filed for divorce."
"Yes."
The room seemed to tilt.
"You didn't divorce me because you stopped loving me."
He looked away.
"Julian."
His eyes met mine.
"Why did you divorce me?"
He took a breath.
"Because someone sent me a photograph."
"What photograph?"
"You meeting Victor Sloan."
I frowned.
"I met Victor all the time."
"Not that meeting."
He pulled out his phone.
He opened an encrypted folder.
Then he handed it to me.
The photograph had been taken through a restaurant window.
I was sitting across from Victor Sloan.
The date in the corner was six months earlier.
I remembered the dinner.
Victor had asked whether Julian knew I was pregnant.
I hadn't told Julian yet.
Then I noticed something in the photograph.
An envelope beside Victor's hand.
My stomach dropped.
I remembered that envelope too.
He had told me it contained a job offer.
It hadn't.
Inside were copies of Vance Holdings transfers.
The first financial records that made me suspicious.
I looked at Julian.
"Victor gave me documents."
"I know."
"How?"
"Because the person who took that photo sent me another picture."
Julian swiped.
The next photograph showed Victor walking to his car.
A man stood behind him.
I recognized Martin Kessler.
And beside Martin stood Eleanor.
My mouth went dry.
"When was this taken?"
"Ten minutes after you left."
I zoomed in.
Eleanor was handing Victor something.
A black folder.
Julian watched my face.
Then he said the sentence I had been afraid of since hearing Victor's name.
May you like
"Vivian, your mentor wasn't investigating my family."
"He was working for them."
