Chapter 4 - The Judge's Debt
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The poison explained how Audrey planned to kill my mother, but it did not explain why.
I sat in my armored SUV, parked in the shadows of a quiet Manhattan street, and dialed my forensic accountant, Klein. He was a paranoid genius who lived entirely behind encrypted firewalls.
“Klein,” I barked as soon as the line connected. “I need a complete financial teardown of Audrey Sterling. Not the accounts tied to my name. I want her private financials. And pull everything you can find on her father, Judge Sterling.”
“Boss, poking around a sitting federal judge is a great way to trigger an FBI audit,” Klein warned nervously.
“Do it, or I’ll find someone who will,” I replied coldly.
I waited in the dark, watching the city lights blur in the freezing rain. Audrey had never asked me for money. She came from old wealth. She spent her days at charity galas and country clubs. What could possibly drive her to murder the matriarch of the Costa family?
Two hours later, my encrypted phone buzzed.
“You aren't going to like this, Victor,” Klein said, his voice tight. “Audrey is broke. Worse than broke. She has seven figures in underground gambling debts tied to a syndicate operating out of Macau. They’ve been threatening her life for months.”
“And her father?”
“Judge Sterling isn't the saint the media portrays,” Klein continued rapidly. “He is heavily leveraged in illicit real estate deals. He owes the Russian mob nearly four million dollars. He is facing complete financial ruin and a massive federal indictment if the money isn't paid by the end of the month.”
The pieces clicked together with horrifying, brilliant precision.
“The prenuptial agreement,” I whispered to myself.
“Exactly,” Klein confirmed. “You insisted Audrey gets nothing if she divorces you. But your mother controls a generation-skipping trust fund. If Sylvia dies before you and Audrey are legally married, the trust dissolves and the liquid assets transfer directly to your accounts.”
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And once the money hit my accounts, my soon-to-be wife would have unfettered access to it. They needed my mother dead now, before the wedding, to save themselves from the mob and the feds. Audrey was using my mother’s life to pay her father’s debts.
“Thank you, Klein,” I said, hanging up the phone. The motive was clear. The execution was in progress. Now, it was time for the trap.
