Chapter 6 - THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
Richard survived.
Barely.
The bullet entered his shoulder and missed his heart by less than an inch.
Police guarded his hospital room around the clock.
He refused to speak at first.
Then, when Detective Harris told him that I had the original certificates, Richard finally agreed to talk.
I sat outside the room with Irene.
She was discharged that afternoon with strict instructions to rest.
I didn't want her anywhere near Richard.
But she refused to stay home.
“I need to know why they did this.”
So we sat together.
Finally, Harris came out.
“He wants to speak to you.”
I looked at Irene.
Then entered.
Richard looked old.
Much older than the photographs.
His left arm was immobilized.
His face was pale.
He looked at me.
“You look like your father.”
I sat beside the bed.
“People say that.”
“I used to hate that.”
“Why?”
“Because every time I looked at you, I remembered what we did.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“What did you do?”
Richard looked toward the window.
“Your father discovered the trust.”
“I know.”
“He found the fake company.”
“I know.”
“He threatened to expose William.”
“What happened?”
Richard swallowed.
“Your mother panicked.”
I stared at him.
“She ordered my father killed?”
“No.”
The answer came quickly.
“She didn't order it.”
“Then what did she do?”
“She agreed to let William handle it.”
The distinction made me sick.
“What does that mean?”
Richard looked at me.
“Your mother knew William was dangerous.”
“And still worked with him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
I closed my eyes.
“Of course.”
Richard continued.
“She believed your grandfather would eventually leave everything to you.”
“He did.”
“Yes.”
“And she couldn't accept that.”
Richard looked ashamed.
“She wanted control.”
“What happened the night before my father died?”
“William told your mother that Daniel had to be stopped.”
“And she agreed?”
“She said, ‘Do whatever you have to do.’”
My hands tightened.
“Did you know?”
Richard nodded.
“I was there.”
“Why didn't you stop them?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“You watched my father die?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“I tried to warn him.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The morning he left for the warehouse.”
“What did he say?”
Richard looked at me.
“He told me he already knew.”
I felt my throat tighten.
“Knew what?”
“That your mother had betrayed him.”
I stared at him.
“What happened next?”
“He went anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because he thought he could save you.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Save me from what?”
“The trust.”
Richard explained that my father had discovered the fake trust could eventually strip me of control.
He wanted to destroy it before my grandfather died.
But William moved first.
The warehouse meeting was a trap.
My father never made it home.
Richard had spent fifteen years living with the guilt.
Then, six months ago, William contacted him again.
“He wanted me to help finish it.”
“What did you refuse?”
“The new transfer.”
Richard looked at me.
“I wouldn't sign.”
“So they shot you.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Was it William?”
Richard shook his head.
“Someone else.”
“Who?”
He stared at me.
“Carla.”
I froze.
“My sister?”
“She was there.”
“Why?”
“Because she had become part of the plan.”
I thought of her standing beside the safe.
The hammer.
The suitcase.
The calmness.
She wasn't just following Margaret.
She understood what she was doing.
Richard continued.
“She was supposed to take the certificates and bring them to William.”
“What about my mother?”
“She was supposed to get the code.”
“And Irene?”
“Collateral.”
The word made me sick.
Richard looked ashamed.
“They didn't expect you to come home.”
“They expected me to be in London.”
“Yes.”
“Who changed the flight?”
“I don't know.”
I frowned.
Richard looked at me.
“Maybe that's why you're still alive.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone canceled your flight.”
My blood ran cold.
“What?”
“William told me.”
“Who canceled it?”
Richard shook his head.
“I never learned.”
I stood.
“Someone knew the plane would be canceled.”
“Maybe.”
“No.”
I thought back.
The airline had blamed weather.
But the cancellation had happened unusually quickly.
The storm had been bad.
Yet dozens of other flights had continued.
Someone could have manipulated the booking.
Someone could have made sure I was home.
Someone who wanted me to discover the truth.
Or someone who wanted me dead.
I returned to Irene.
She was waiting.
“What did he say?”
I sat beside her.
“Carla was involved.”
Her eyes widened.
“And someone canceled my flight.”
She stared at me.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Then her expression changed.
“Austin.”
“What?”
“The night before you left.”
“What happened?”
“I got a call.”
“From whom?”
“I didn't know.”
“What did they say?”
Irene closed her eyes.
“They asked whether you had already left for the airport.”
My heart stopped.
“What did you say?”
“That you were leaving at seven.”
She looked at me.
“But the strange thing was…”
“What?”
“They already knew.”
“Knew what?”
“They said, ‘Good. Then everything will happen tonight.’”
I felt cold.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I forgot.”
“Forgot?”
“I thought it was a wrong number.”
Then her face changed.
“Austin.”
“What?”
“The voice.”
“What about it?”
“I've heard it before.”
“Whose voice?”
She looked at me.
“Your father's old business partner.”
Richard.
But Richard was in the hospital.
And he had been shot.
So the voice couldn't have been his.
Unless—
I looked at the hallway.
“Did you hear Richard speak?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because I heard his voice on a recording your father kept.”
I stared.
My father had kept recordings.
Maybe more than one.
Maybe the person behind everything had been hiding in plain sight for fifteen years.
I opened the metal box again.
There was a tiny cassette recorder inside.
I had ignored it.
Now I picked it up.
Pressed play.
Static.
Then my father's voice.
“If anything happens to me, Austin must never trust Margaret's lawyer.”
I froze.
Another voice answered.
“Daniel, you're overreacting.”
My father's voice became angry.
“No, William. I'm not.”
Then another voice.
A woman's voice.
My mother's.
“Austin will never know.”
I stopped the recording.
I couldn't listen anymore.
But Irene was staring at me.
“What does it mean?”
I looked at her.
“It means my father knew.”
“And?”
“He knew my mother was involved.”
I took a breath.
“But he also knew someone else was controlling her.”
“Who?”
I looked at the names in the notebook.
William.
Richard.
Margaret.
Carla.
And one name that appeared dozens of times.
A name I had never expected.
My own father's former attorney.
Edward Lang.
The lawyer who had handled my grandfather's estate.
The lawyer who had transferred the company to me.
The lawyer who had told me everything was legitimate.
The lawyer who had certified the original trust.
I called Daniel.
“Find Edward Lang.”
There was a long pause.
“Austin…”
“What?”
“Edward Lang died twelve years ago.”
I stared at the notebook.
His name was written yesterday.
Beside a payment.
May you like
I felt my blood run cold.
“Then who has been receiving money under his name?”
