Chapter 10 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Elena stared at the hotel image until her hands began shaking.
For twelve years, she had believed her father was dead.
Now he was alive.
And according to Madeline, he had once ordered her to drug my father.
Quinn contacted federal agents before we left the house.
Arturo’s hotel room was placed under surveillance.
He made no attempt to flee.
At 4:10 p.m., he walked into the lobby carrying a leather briefcase.
Elena saw the live camera feed.
“That’s him.”
There was no doubt in her voice.
Agents approached.
Arturo raised his hands before anyone touched him.
He said only one thing.
“I’ve been waiting for my daughter.”
We met him at a federal office downtown.
Elena insisted on entering the interview room.
I went with her.
Arturo looked older than the photographs.
But his eyes were the same eyes I had seen in Elena’s childhood albums.
He stood when she entered.
“Elena.”
She remained by the door.
“You let me think you were dead.”
Arturo’s face tightened.
“I had no choice.”
“Everyone has a choice.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“For twelve years?”
“Yes.”
“What about Mom?”
His eyes lowered.
“She knew.”
Elena staggered backward.
I caught her arm.
“My mother knew you were alive?”
“For the first year.”
“Then why did she die believing—”
“She didn’t.”
Elena stared at him.
Arturo continued.
“Your mother had cancer.”
“She chose not to tell you I was alive because people were watching our family.”
Tears filled Elena’s eyes.
“You let me bury both of you.”
“I’m sorry.”
She slapped him.
The sound cracked through the room.
No one intervened.
Arturo accepted it.
Then Elena asked:
“Did you order Madeline to poison Richard Mercer?”
Arturo looked at me.
“No.”
“Madeline says you did.”
“Madeline lies when breathing.”
“But did you know her?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Her mother died during an illegal clinical trial.”
“I helped her investigate.”
“Did you send her into Richard’s house?”
“Yes.”
My jaw tightened.
“Why?”
“To retrieve documents.”
“She administered digoxin to him.”
Arturo’s expression changed.
“That was not part of the plan.”
“Then who ordered it?”
“I spent twelve years trying to answer that.”
Quinn, observing behind the glass, entered.
“And did you?”
Arturo nodded.
“Charles Grayson.”
Evan’s father.
“Why kill Richard?”
“Because Richard planned to confess.”
I stared at Arturo.
“My father was going public?”
“Yes.”
“About the clinical trials?”
“Everything.”
“He had collected twenty years of records.”
“Charles learned about it.”
“Richard died three days before he was supposed to meet federal investigators.”
“Where were the records?”
Arturo looked at me.
“He gave them to you.”
“I never received anything.”
“Yes, you did.”
“When?”
“The phone call.”
My stomach tightened.
“I don’t remember that call.”
“You were medicated.”
“Richard told me you had been injured.”
“He said there was no time.”
“He gave me your number.”
“I called.”
“What did you tell me?”
“The location of a safe-deposit box.”
“Which bank?”
“First Continental.”
I closed my eyes.
The name triggered something.
A fluorescent hospital ceiling.
A phone pressed to my ear.
A man saying:
Remember north star.
I looked at Elena.
“NORTHSTAR.”
“The flash drive password.”
She stared at me.
“Your father?”
Maybe.
Arturo leaned forward.
“The safe-deposit key was supposed to be hidden in Richard’s study.”
“Madeline searched the study after he died.”
Quinn said.
Arturo nodded.
“She never found it.”
“Neither did Charles Grayson.”
“Where is it?”
“I assumed Daniel eventually found it.”
I thought of Ilaria’s brass key.
“No.”
Different key.
Then I remembered my father’s old watch.
A heavy gold watch I had never worn.
It remained in a locked display box in my office.
There was a tiny compartment beneath the backing.
I had once seen my father use it.
Quinn dispatched officers.
Forty minutes later, Pike called.
He had found a small steel bank key.
Number 417.
First Continental confirmed the box still existed.
Registered jointly to Richard Mercer and Daniel Mercer.
I had never known.
A federal warrant allowed immediate access.
Inside the bank vault was a sealed metal container.
The documents were more explosive than anything Elena had recovered.
Trial records.
Death certificates.
Payments.
Bribes.
Corporate correspondence.
And photographs.
One picture showed Charles Grayson.
Another showed Samuel Breen as a young patrol officer.
Another showed Arturo.
Another showed my father.
Then one photograph made Elena gasp.
Madeline’s mother.
She was not listed as an unwilling experimental patient.
She had worked for the trial.
“What?”
Madeline had always claimed her mother was a victim.
The records told a different story.
Dr. Evelyn Hart had been a clinical coordinator.
She had altered patient records.
Approved unauthorized dosages.
And after several deaths, she attempted to blackmail Charles Grayson.
Three weeks later, she died in a car crash.
Madeline had built her entire revenge around a lie.
Her mother had not been an innocent patient.
She had helped conduct the trials.
Arturo rubbed his face.
“She never knew.”
“You didn’t tell her?”
“I didn’t know until years later.”
“Did Charles kill her mother?”
“Probably.”
“Then Madeline’s anger wasn’t completely invented.”
“No.”
“But she aimed it at the wrong people.”
Arturo looked at Elena.
“She stopped caring who deserved punishment a long time ago.”
Quinn turned toward him.
“Why return now?”
“Thomas Carter contacted me.”
Everyone froze.
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
“Carter knew you were alive?”
“Yes.”
“He found me through old accounts.”
“Where is he?”
Arturo hesitated.
“He was supposed to meet me yesterday.”
“He never came.”
“He was kidnapped.”
“So I heard.”
“He escaped.”
“So he claims.”
I studied Arturo.
“You don’t believe him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Thomas Carter contacted me again this morning.”
Quinn stared at him.
“That’s impossible.”
“Why?”
“Carter was found at Lake Ashford this morning.”
Arturo slowly shook his head.
“Then whoever you found is not Thomas Carter.”
The room went silent.
Pike immediately pulled Carter’s driver’s-license record.
The man police had recovered resembled the photograph.
Same age.
Same general appearance.
But fingerprints had not yet been confirmed.
Quinn called the officers holding him.
No answer.
She called again.
Then dispatch.
The response came seconds later.
The man claiming to be Thomas Carter had disappeared from protective custody.
One officer had been found unconscious.
A service exit camera captured the suspect leaving in a maintenance uniform.
Pike enlarged the image.
Arturo stared at the screen.
“That is not Carter.”
“Who is he?”
Arturo leaned closer.
His expression became grim.
“His name is Victor Shaw.”
“Who is Victor Shaw?”
“The man Charles Grayson used when he needed problems erased.”
“But Charles has been dead eight years.”
Arturo looked at me.
“Men like Charles Grayson do not build organizations that die with them.”
“Who does Shaw work for now?”
Arturo’s answer was immediate.
“Whoever has the most to lose.”
Quinn’s phone rang.
She answered.
Then looked directly at me.
“We just found Marcus Reed.”
“Where?”
“Dead?”
“No.”
“He surrendered.”
“Why?”
“He says someone is trying to kill him.”
“Who?”
Quinn listened to the officer on the phone.
Then repeated Marcus’s words.
“Victor Shaw.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does Marcus know?”
Quinn continued listening.
Her face changed.
“A location.”
“Of what?”
She covered the phone.
“Marcus says there is one person we haven’t identified.”
“Someone above Evan.”
“Above Madeline.”
“Above Breen.”
“And above Marcus.”
“Who?”
“He refuses to say over the phone.”
“Then we go.”
Quinn nodded.
As we turned toward the door, Arturo spoke.
“You should bring the bank records.”
“Why?”
“Because if Marcus is finally talking, he’ll tell you why Elena was kept alive instead of killed.”
Elena stopped.
“What are you saying?”
Arturo looked at her.
“They never kept you alive because they needed information.”
“They kept you alive because someone needed your signature.”
“On what?”
He looked at Ilaria’s photograph on my phone.
“On documents transferring control of the Mercer family trust.”
My blood turned cold.
“If Elena died, I inherited her shares.”
“Yes.”
“But if Elena signed them away…”
“Someone else could control nearly everything.”
“Who?”
Arturo’s face tightened.
“That is the question Marcus is finally terrified enough to answer.”
When we reached the station, Marcus Reed was waiting in an interrogation room.
His crooked finger was wrapped around a paper cup.
He looked twenty years older than he had the day before.
Quinn sat across from him.
“You said you know who was running this.”
Marcus nodded.
“Name.”
“I want protection.”
“Name.”
Marcus swallowed.
Then he looked through the glass at me.
“The person who ordered Elena kept alive…”
He paused.
“…was someone Daniel has trusted longer than any of us.”
I felt my heartbeat in my throat.
Marcus whispered the name.
And for the second time in twenty-four hours, the floor seemed to disappear beneath me.
May you like
“My mother.”
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