Chapter 19
The revelation that Richard was alive and actively drawing from the stolen foundation funds sent a shockwave through the investigation.
“If Richard is alive, he is the primary physical perpetrator in Eleanor’s death,” Detective Vance stated, immediately pulling out his secure radio. “I need to contact Interpol. If he’s in a Swiss medical facility, he’s an international flight risk.”
“Wait,” Emily said, holding up a hand. “Look at the ledger, Arthur. Look at the payment frequency.”
Arthur adjusted his glasses, scanning the digital spreadsheet.
“The payments are exactly sixty-five thousand dollars, executed on the first of every month for the last sixty months. There are absolutely no deviations. No withdrawals for personal expenses. No luxury purchases.”
“He isn't living in Switzerland,” Evelyn deduced, her intuition sharpened by her own medical imprisonment. “He’s a patient. A permanent, high-level care patient.”
Daniel’s face went pale.
“Before the boating accident... Margaret told us Richard had suffered a severe stroke. She said he recovered, but he was never the same. A week later, he took the boat out in a storm and never came back.”
“She didn't kill him,” Emily realized, the terrifying depths of Margaret’s ruthlessness fully coming into focus. “When Richard had the stroke, he became a liability. He couldn't speak, he couldn't defend the lie, and he required constant care. She faked his death to sever his legal ties to the foundation, and she locked him away in a foreign facility using the very money he helped steal.”
“Just like she did to me,” Evelyn whispered, a chill running down her spine. “She erased him.”
“Interpol won't need to chase a fugitive,” Arthur said, typing rapidly to secure the Swiss banking details. “They just need to walk into the clinic and arrest a bedridden man.”
Vance nodded, already dialing the federal authorities. “I’ll get the international warrants processed. We’ll have a team in Geneva by morning.”
Emily turned away from the glass, her back to Margaret’s interrogation room. She had no desire to watch the woman suffer. The victory wasn't in Margaret’s destruction; it was in the restoration of the truth.
“We are done here,” Emily said, looking at her mother. “The police have everything they need. Arthur controls the money. Let’s go home.”
“To our apartment?” Evelyn asked, referring to the small, cramped flat they had lived in before the nightmare began.
Emily shook her head. She pulled the heavy brass master key from her pocket.
“No. To our house. The foundation owns the estate, and we run the foundation. It’s time we clean out the rest of the ghosts.”
Daniel stood awkwardly in the corner, unsure of where he belonged. His family was destroyed. His mother was a murderer.
“Daniel,” Emily called out, stopping at the door. “You’re coming with us.”
He looked up, tears brimming in his eyes.
May you like
“Why?” he asked. “I don't deserve to go back there.”
“Because you are going to help me pack up Margaret’s things,” Emily stated firmly. “And then, you are going to help us build something better.”
