Chapter 5 - The Doctor's Confession
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Before I could spring the trap on Audrey, I needed to cut off her supply line.
Elias had confirmed the poison was a custom compound. Audrey didn't have the intellect to synthesize it herself. She needed a doctor. And there was only one physician in her elite social circle who fit the profile: Dr. Arthur Vance, her father’s private concierge doctor and a man known for prescribing whatever the wealthy desired.
I didn't call ahead. I arrived at Dr. Vance’s private clinic on the Upper East Side just after closing hours. My head of security, Hector, disabled the cameras and picked the back lock in under thirty seconds.
I found Dr. Vance in his office, packing his leather briefcase. He froze when I stepped out of the shadows, his eyes darting to Hector, who was silently blocking the only exit.
“Mr. Costa,” Vance stammered, his face draining of color. “The clinic is closed. If you need medical assistance—”
“I need answers, Arthur,” I interrupted, my voice dropping into a lethal, quiet register. I pulled the brown paper bag from my pocket and tossed it onto his mahogany desk. The red-and-yellow capsules spilled across the polished wood.
Vance stared at the pills, a bead of sweat breaking out on his forehead.
“I don't know what those are,” he lied, though his voice cracked entirely.
I didn't yell. I walked slowly around the desk, stopping inches away from his trembling frame.
“My mother is a very beloved woman in this city,” I said softly. “If the men who work for me find out you manufactured a paralytic poison to kill her, they will not just shoot you. They will take their time. They will start with your hands.”
Vance collapsed back into his leather chair, burying his face in his hands.
“The Judge made me do it!” Vance sobbed, completely breaking under the psychological pressure. “Judge Sterling has blackmail material on me. Medical malpractice cover-ups. He said if I didn't synthesize the drug for Audrey, he would have my license revoked and put me in federal prison!”
“So you gave her a weapon to kill an innocent woman,” I stated coldly.
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“She said it would be painless! She said Sylvia was already dying!” Vance pleaded, tears streaming down his face.
“You are going to write a full, signed confession detailing Judge Sterling’s blackmail and Audrey’s involvement,” I ordered, sliding a pen across the desk. “And then, you are going to disappear. Because if I ever see your face in New York again, the confession won't matter.”
