Chapter 35 - The Fifth Account
By noon the next day, three forensic accountants were sitting in Evelyn's conference room, studying a notebook that seemed capable of destroying the financial history of the Hale family.
The number on the first page still haunted me.
Two billion, three hundred million dollars.
Even for a company as large as Hale Development, that wasn't money someone could simply misplace.
Grayson stood beside the window, looking out over Chicago.
"Tell me what we're actually looking at," he said.
Samuel Brooks, the forensic accountant who had helped unravel Rhea Caldwell's corruption, adjusted his glasses.
"We don't know yet. The notebook appears to document a series of investment arrangements involving Richard Hale, Sebastian Vale, and several other parties."
"Are the investments legitimate?" I asked.
"Some appear ordinary. Others raise significant questions."
Samuel opened a spreadsheet.
Several payments had been routed through holding companies registered in different jurisdictions.
Some represented real estate investments.
Others were labeled only with initials and numerical codes.
One recurring designation caught my eye.
ACCOUNT FIVE.
"What's special about that one?" I asked.
Samuel hesitated.
"Unlike the others, this account appears to have received money without corresponding records identifying the underlying assets."
Grayson turned.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning we need to determine whether these were legitimate private investments, improperly recorded transactions, or something more serious."
Evelyn nodded approvingly.
"Nobody makes accusations before we establish the facts."
I studied the dates.
The earliest transaction occurred three decades earlier.
The final handwritten entry was made eleven years ago.
Four days before Richard Hale died.
"Gray," I whispered, "look at this."
He crossed the room.
Beside the final payment, Richard had written three words.
Protect the children.
Grayson's expression changed.
"What children?"
Nobody answered.
Then Samuel opened another page.
There were initials beside several payments.
A.W.
O.W.
G.H.
Grayson froze.
"Andrew Whitmore. Oliver Whitmore. Grayson Hale?"
"Oliver wasn't born when some of these entries were made," Evelyn observed. "We shouldn't assume what the initials mean."
She was right.
But my instincts told me the notebook was connected to more than missing money.
That afternoon, Natalie called.
She had returned safely to Boston.
Oliver was staying with his grandmother while Natalie cooperated with investigators.
"Claire, did the key help?"
"Yes," I answered. "But Andrew left us more questions than answers."
Natalie went quiet.
Then she said, "There's something I haven't told you."
My heart tightened.
"About Andrew?"
"About his last week."
She explained that Andrew had received a telephone call from someone who claimed to have worked closely with Richard Hale.
The caller offered to tell him the truth about his childhood.
But only if Andrew agreed to keep the meeting secret.
"Did Andrew go?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Where?"
"A private restaurant outside Providence."
"What happened?"
"He came home frightened."
Natalie swallowed.
"He said somebody had lied about why Richard kept him hidden."
I sat straighter.
"Did he explain?"
"Not completely. He said his father had been protecting someone."
"Who?"
Natalie's voice cracked.
"He told me that if anything happened to him, I should never trust the people claiming to represent his inheritance."
I thought of Malcolm Pierce.
His expensive suit.
His aggressive demands.
His willingness to use Grace's adoption history as leverage.
"Did Andrew mention Pierce?"
"No."
I looked across the office at Evelyn.
"Then we're going to need to find out who hired him."
After the call, I walked into Grayson's office.
He was holding the old photograph of Richard and Andrew.
"You've been staring at that for an hour," I said.
He gave a sad smile.
"I keep wondering whether Andrew ever stood outside one of our buildings and thought about knocking."
I sat beside him.
"He probably did."
"Then why didn't he?"
"Maybe because your father taught him that wanting a family was something to be ashamed of."
Grayson closed his eyes.
"I wish I'd known."
I rested my head against his shoulder.
"We can't change that."
"No."
"But we can make sure Oliver doesn't grow up feeling the same way."
Grayson kissed my forehead.
For a moment, the room felt peaceful.
Then Evelyn appeared in the doorway.
Her expression was grim.
"We've identified the attorney who originally established the fifth account."
"Who?" Grayson asked.
"His name was Thomas Keene."
I waited.
"And?"
"He disappeared eleven years ago."
Grayson's face hardened.
"When?"
May you like
Evelyn looked down at her notes.
"The same night your father died."
