Chapter 8 - THE WOMAN IN THE WINDOW
Mara did not speak during the drive to the precinct.
Elias sat across from her in the armored police van.
Rainwater still marked his coat.
He watched her with the patience of someone waiting for a door to open.
“You saw someone in the window,” he said.
Mara looked toward the metal wall.
“No.”
“You stopped walking.”
“My hands were cuffed.”
“You looked frightened.”
“I had just been arrested for attempted murder.”
“You did not look frightened when I arrested you.”
“That sounds like a compliment.”
“It is an observation.”
Mara lifted her eyes.
“My mother was inside the museum.”
Elias did not react.
“Your mother died twenty-six years ago.”
“That is what I was told.”
“By whom?”
“My father.”
“The same father whose recording accused Julian?”
“Yes.”
Elias leaned back.
“You understand how this sounds.”
“I understand how everything sounds after someone manufactures my voice.”
At the precinct, Mara was taken into an interview room.
Her attorney arrived twenty minutes later.
Amelia Price was sixty-three, precise, and rarely impressed by power.
She entered carrying two phones and a stack of legal notices.
“Do not speak.”
“I already spoke.”
“Then stop improving the prosecution’s morning.”
Amelia sat beside her.
“The toxicology report found no poison.”
Mara exhaled.
“Then release me.”
“Julian suffered cardiac arrhythmia caused by a dangerous interaction between his medication and an herbal stimulant.”
“I did not give him anything.”
“The stimulant was found in a champagne bottle delivered under your name.”
Mara remembered the trolley.
Every glass had been poured in front of her.
She had watched the bottles.
Except one.
Beatrice had carried a private bottle from the donor lounge.
“The bottle came from Beatrice.”
“Can you prove it?”
“The gala cameras can.”
“Half the internal cameras lost their data at nine seventeen.”
The same moment the twelfth recording had been inserted.
Beatrice had planned both actions together.
Amelia opened a folder.
“Julian’s attorneys are seeking an emergency order to declare you incapable of administering the Ellison trust.”
“On what basis?”
“Attempted murder, emotional instability, and public threats.”
“The recording is false.”
“Our expert agrees.”
“Then why am I still here?”
“Because their expert claims it is genuine.”
Mara laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“Of course.”
Amelia lowered her voice.
“Someone sent me a copy of Gabriel’s reversion clause.”
“Who?”
“There was no name.”
Mara thought of Sebastian.
“Can it be enforced?”
“If we prove the museum was used for criminal trafficking.”
“The hidden archive contains proof.”
“The hidden archive does not exist on any official plan.”
“It exists.”
“Then we need legal access before Beatrice destroys it.”
The interview room door opened.
Elias entered alone.
He removed Mara’s handcuffs.
“The district attorney is delaying charges.”
“Why?”
“Julian disappeared from the hospital.”
Mara stood.
“What do you mean disappeared?”
“His security detail found an empty bed and a cut alarm wire.”
“Beatrice took him.”
“Or you arranged his removal.”
“I was beneath the museum and then inside your custody.”
“You have people helping you.”
“So does Beatrice.”
Elias placed a photograph on the table.
A traffic camera had captured a hospital ambulance leaving through the service entrance.
The driver wore a surgical mask.
A gray-haired woman sat beside Julian’s bed.
Mara touched the edge of the image.
“That is my mother.”
Amelia looked at her.
“You are certain?”
“Yes.”
Elias placed a second photograph beside the first.
It showed the ambulance entering an industrial property in Queens.
The building belonged to a private restoration company.
The registered owner was Lena Ellison.
Mara’s mother.
Mara looked toward the detective.
“Take me there.”
“You are a suspect.”
“Then keep the cuffs on.”
Amelia shook her head.
“Mara.”
“My mother knows why my father died.”
“She may also be working with Beatrice.”
“Then she knows where Julian is.”
Elias considered her.
Before he could answer, every light in the precinct flickered.
A message appeared simultaneously on both of Amelia’s phones.
A livestream had begun.
Julian sat tied to a chair inside a windowless room.
Blood marked his collar.
Beatrice stood behind him holding the final ledger.
Mara’s mother stood beside her.
Beatrice looked directly into the camera.
“Mara, bring me the reversion clause.”
Julian raised his head.
His face was pale.
May you like
Beatrice placed a knife against his throat.
“Or your husband will not survive long enough to sign your divorce.”
