Chapter 4 - The Poisoned Ledger
I didn't reach for the leather folder. Instead, I leaned back in my leather high-backed chair, letting a faint, humorless smile play across my lips. The silence in the penthouse stretched so thin you could hear the distant whistle of the wind striking the high-altitude glass panels.
""You really should have hired a better forensic accountant, Julian,"" I said smoothly.
Julian’s smirk wavered, the corner of his left eye twitching slightly. ""Don't bluff, Blair. I spent three years setting up the shell corporations in the Cayman Islands that funded your second-phase mezzanine debt. Every wire transfer has your electronic footprint on it.""
""It does,"" I conceded, nodding gently. ""Because I knew you were alive three years ago.""
Eleanor froze. Harper stopped sniffling. Julian leaned forward, his walking cane slipping an inch across the floor.
""What did you say?"" Julian asked, his voice losing its polished bravado.
""Did you really think Marcus was just an ordinary head of hotel security?"" I gestured toward Marcus, who pulled out his personal phone and tapped the screen twice. A large overhead projector descended from the ceiling, projecting a high-resolution banking database onto the suite's blank marble wall.
""Marcus spent fourteen years in the Department of Justice’s financial crimes division before I hired him,"" I explained, watching the blood drain from Julian’s face in real time. ""When your boat vanished off Halifax, there was one detail that bothered me: the emergency locator beacon was activated four hours after the fuel tanks supposedly exploded. A man burning to death at sea doesn't wait four hours to press an SOS button.""
I stood up, walking slowly around the perimeter of the table until I stopped directly behind Julian’s chair.
""I started tracing the offshore shell companies you used to short-sell my suppliers. Every time you pumped illicit cartel money into my secondary debt, I didn't spend it. I routed it into an escrow holding account supervised by the Federal Reserve Bank of New York under a cooperating witness agreement.""
Arthur Keating let out a low, appreciative chuckle. ""She set a honey pot, Julian. And you flew straight into it with twenty million dollars of cartel cash.""
""That’s impossible!"" Preston blurted out, his knees shaking violently. ""Julian told me the offshore accounts were cleared! He promised me five million dollars if I swapped the physical hard drives in the fifty-ninth-floor archive!""
""The hard drives you swapped tonight were dummy mirrors, Preston,"" Marcus said, stepping forward with an open evidence bag containing Preston's cloned keycard. ""Every keystroke you entered at that terminal was recorded in four-K resolution and transmitted live to the United States Secret Service field office on Causeway Street. Special Agent Martinez has been sitting in my lobby control center since seven o'clock this evening.""
Harper turned on Preston with sudden, feral rage, slamming her purse against his chest repeatedly. ""You idiot! You dragged me into federal crimes! You told me Blair was just an executive assistant having an affair with the owner! You promised me a mansion in Rome!""
""Shut up, you stupid cow!"" Preston shouted back, dodging her blows while the guards pinned his arms. ""You were the one who stole your father's master access codes from his desk drawer! You gave me the password to the Sterling family trust!""
""Enough of this circus!"" Eleanor screamed, falling onto the table, knocking over crystal water goblets that shattered across the silver platters. ""Blair! You are my daughter! You cannot let your own flesh and blood be dragged into federal prison! Think of what society will say! The Sterling name will be utterly ruined!""
May you like
""The Sterling name was ruined the night you threw my clothes onto the pavement in the pouring rain, Mother,"" I whispered, looking down at her crumpled, pathetic form. ""And you haven't even heard the best part yet.""
I turned to Marcus. ""Bring up the property deed for the Sterling Manor.""
