Chapter 6 - The Midnight Raid
Back at the downtown police precinct, the interrogation room door opened again, but this time it wasn't Detective Harrison who walked in.
It was Richard Langford—Victoria’s husband, a powerful shipping tycoon whose face usually graced the covers of business magazines. He looked furious, disheveled, and desperate. He slammed a heavy leather briefcase onto the table opposite his wife.
"What in God's name were you thinking, Victoria?!" Richard hissed, leaning over the table. "You kept Clara Vance's purse in your personal walk-in closet for two years?! Are you out of your mind?!"
Victoria glared up at him, her usual polished veneer completely shattered. "I didn't mean to bring it tonight! It was in the back of my winter vault behind the fur coats! My maid must have packed the wrong evening clutch when we dressed for the gala!"
"The police have already seized our primary corporate servers," Richard whispered, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Arthur Whitmore has petitioned the federal court to freeze every single offshore account we own. We are completely exposed."
"Then fix it!" Victoria shrieked, standing up to grab his lapels. "You're Richard Langford! Buy off the judges! Threaten the witnesses! Do whatever it takes!"
The interrogation room door swung open wide, and Detective Harrison stepped inside, accompanied by two armed officers carrying digital recording units.
"Mr. Langford," Harrison said smoothly, a cold grin playing on his lips. "I'm glad you decided to show up. Your wife’s public outburst in the ballroom gave us probable cause, but your presence here gives us something even better."
Richard froze, slowly letting go of his wife. "What are you talking about?"
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"We just received an encrypted data drop containing Clara Vance's complete financial archive," Harrison said, tossing a printed transcript onto the table between them. "Signed by both of you. Authorizing the wire transfer that funded the shell company which purchased the isolated hunting lodge in the northern state park—the very same lodge where Clara Vance’s cell phone signal vanished the night she disappeared."
Victoria’s knees buckled. She collapsed back into her metal chair, staring at the paper in absolute horror.
