Chapter 18 - THE LAST BANQUET
Police tracked Eleanor and Robert to a private event venue near the Wisconsin border.
The building belonged to one of Robert’s clients.
By the time investigators arrived, the parking lot was empty.
But inside, a banquet table had been set.
White linen.
Crystal glasses.
Silver plates.
Exactly like the luncheon where I found Clara.
At the head of the table sat one envelope.
My name was written across it.
Detective Harris opened it first.
Inside was an invitation.
COME ALONE IF YOU WANT THE ORIGINAL RECORDING.
“What recording?”
Harris asked.
I knew.
The recording of my father confronting Eleanor and Gerald.
The one piece that might prove whether his death was planned.
Harris refused to let me go alone.
So we created the appearance that I had.
I entered the venue wearing a wire.
Officers surrounded the property.
Eleanor appeared from the kitchen.
She wore a dark coat.
Perfect hair.
No panic.
No shame.
“You came.”
“I always did.”
She smiled.
“That was your best quality.”
“Where is Robert?”
“Gone.”
“Did you kill him?”
She laughed.
“Do you really think I do everything myself?”
I looked at the table.
“Where is Dad’s recording?”
“Sit.”
“No.”
Her expression changed.
Then I deliberately pulled out a chair.
I sat.
For once, I wanted her comfortable.
People reveal more when they believe they control the room.
“You embarrassed me.”
She poured wine.
“You overturned my table.”
“You put my wife under it.”
“She needed to understand her place.”
“You nearly killed my son.”
“I protected your son.”
“From his mother?”
“From weakness.”
I stared at her.
“Did you kill Dad?”
Her hand stopped.
Only for a second.
“I loved your father.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“He was going to destroy everything.”
“What everything?”
“Our family.”
“He was divorcing you.”
“He was humiliating me.”
“So you changed his medication.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“Gerald did that.”
I kept my face still.
There it was.
A confession wrapped in blame.
“But you knew.”
“I knew he needed to calm down.”
“You knew the pills were wrong.”
“He wasn’t supposed to die.”
My heartbeat thundered.
The police were hearing every word.
I continued.
“And my car?”
She looked away.
“Robert made his own decisions.”
“You paid him.”
“He owed me.”
“You tried to kill me.”
“You left me no choice.”
I stood.
“There is always a choice.”
She slammed her glass down.
“You chose Clara over your own mother.”
“I chose my wife over her abuser.”
“I gave you everything.”
“No.”
I looked at the table.
“You gave me guilt and called it love.”
Her face twisted.
“I made you.”
“Clara helped me become myself.”
That was the sentence she could not tolerate.
She reached into her coat.
I heard officers moving outside.
I expected a weapon.
Instead, she pulled out a small recorder.
“You want your father?”
She pressed play.
My father’s voice filled the room.
“Eleanor, if anything happens to me, Sebastian will know.”
My mother’s younger voice answered.
“Sebastian believes me.”
“He always has.”
The recording continued.
Gerald said, “Then make sure he keeps believing.”
My chest tightened.
Eleanor held the recorder.
“This is what you wanted.”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“Then catch.”
She threw it toward the fireplace.
I lunged.
Before it reached the flames, Julian stepped from behind the side entrance and caught it.
My mother froze.
“Julian?”
He stared at her.
“No.”
His voice shook.
“You don’t get to destroy Dad twice.”
Police entered from every doorway.
Eleanor looked from Julian to me.
For the first time in my life, my mother had no son standing beside her.
Detective Harris placed her under arrest.
She screamed my name as they took her away.
May you like
I did not answer.
I simply stood beside my brother and held the recording our father had protected for thirteen years.
