Chapter 9 - THE DINNER TEN MONTHS EARLIER
Daniel finally admitted he met Malcolm.
He claimed the meeting was arranged by Victoria.
“At first, it was business.”
He told investigators.
“What business?”
“Investment opportunities.”
Voss offered Daniel access to exclusive funds.
Daniel lost money.
A lot.
More than five million dollars.
Money I did not know existed because Daniel borrowed against business assets and personal credit.
Victoria helped restructure the debt.
Then she showed him my father’s trust.
Not the real trust.
A manipulated version.
According to Daniel, if I died, he could gain enough control to repay everything.
Then the plan grew.
Noah’s contingent interest became an obstacle.
Victoria told Daniel the child had to die first.
Daniel resisted.
For about two weeks.
That detail destroyed any sympathy I might have had.
Two weeks.
Fourteen days during which he could have called police.
Called me.
Called anyone.
Instead, he kept talking.
Kept planning.
Kept choosing himself.
Then investigators uncovered another payment.
Malcolm Voss had transferred twelve million dollars to Victoria’s company through a foreign consulting entity.
The payment description read.
SUCCESSION RISK MANAGEMENT.
Rebecca stared at the record.
“My sister was being paid to remove you from a corporate vote.”
“Remove?”
I asked.
She looked ashamed.
“I don’t know what else to call it.”
I did.
Kill us.
The pending acquisition would make the trust’s company extremely valuable.
Voss wanted the deal stopped.
My father’s shares were essential.
If I died, the shares would freeze during estate litigation.
Voss could use the delay to take control.
Noah’s death ensured there was no immediate descendant to assert authority.
Daniel’s death would eliminate the obvious criminal beneficiary and allow the story to look like a family tragedy caused by food contamination followed by suicide or stress-related death.
It was grotesque.
And elegant in the way only carefully planned evil can be elegant.
Then the kitchen camera revealed one more detail.
After Noah switched his bowl with Margaret’s, Daniel noticed.
He stared at the bowls for three seconds.
Then he did nothing.
I replayed that moment until I felt sick.
He knew the wrong person might eat it.
His mother.
And still he remained silent.
Margaret watched the footage from her hospital bed.
She stopped defending him after that.
“That’s my son.”
She whispered.
May you like
Then she looked at Detective Ortiz.
“And I want to testify against him.”
