Chapter 11 - THE PERSON WHO ESCAPED BEFORE THE LOCKDOWN
We reconstructed the timeline.
The copy began at 11:19 p.m.
I called Dad at 11:46.
Whoever stole Northstar had twenty-seven minutes to leave.
Security pulled every camera recording from the estate.
Cars.
Staff entrances.
Service roads.
Helipad.
At 11:23, one vehicle left through the north gate.
A black sedan.
Registered to Vale Holdings.
Dad stared at the screen.
“Who authorized it?”
The security chief checked.
“Your office.”
“Which person?”
A pause.
“Rachel Morgan.”
Rachel was in the hospital under guard.
Dad called the detective stationed there.
Two minutes later, he returned.
“Rachel denies authorizing anything.”
“Then someone used her credentials.”
The security chief enlarged the footage.
The driver was visible.
Richard.
My uncle.
Dad stared.
“But Richard came back.”
“Yes.”
Another camera showed Richard returning at 11:31 on foot through a maintenance entrance.
Eight minutes.
Enough time to deliver something beyond the estate.
I remembered the leather case.
Maybe Richard had moved the ledger.
But why return?
To retrieve the master copy?
To stop Rachel?
Thomas called again.
“I know where Richard went.”
I answered.
“Where?”
“There is a church half a mile north of the estate.”
“St. Matthew's.”
Dad knew it.
Thomas continued.
“Check the parking lot cameras.”
Police contacted the church.
A patrol unit arrived.
They found an abandoned vehicle.
Inside the trunk was nothing.
But surveillance showed Richard meeting someone.
A woman.
Her face remained hidden.
She took a small drive.
Then entered another car.
Dad leaned toward the screen.
“Can we identify the plate?”
The image sharpened.
Vanessa gasped.
I looked at her.
“What?”
“That car belongs to my mother.”
Victor's wife.
Margaret Cross.
She wasn't at the gala.
According to Victor, she was in Palm Beach.
She wasn't.
Police traced the vehicle.
Traffic cameras tracked it toward Manhattan.
Then lost it.
Damian sat with his head in his hands.
“My mother has the files?”
Vanessa whispered,
“She always hated Northstar.”
“Then why take them?”
“Maybe to destroy them.”
Thomas answered through the phone.
“No.”
We looked at the speaker.
“Margaret helped me disappear.”
Damian stood.
“What?”
Thomas continued.
“She knew Victor ordered surveillance on me.”
“She warned me.”
“She arranged the second vehicle after the crash.”
I asked,
“Then why steal Northstar?”
“Because she believes the system can't be exposed safely.”
“Why?”
“Imagine every secret released at once.”
He was right.
Innocent families could be destroyed.
Witnesses could be exposed.
Investigations compromised.
Markets manipulated.
People killed.
Northstar was evidence.
But it was also a weapon.
Dad asked,
“Where would Margaret go?”
Thomas hesitated.
“I don't know.”
Vanessa did.
“She has an apartment.”
“Where?”
“Brooklyn Heights.”
Police moved immediately.
Damian looked at me.
“Claire.”
I stopped.
He couldn't meet my eyes.
“What?”
“What I did to you…”
I waited.
He swallowed.
“There isn't an excuse.”
“No.”
“I thought you were trying to destroy my family.”
“That doesn't excuse it.”
“I know.”
I looked at the man who had laughed after hurting me.
Now he looked smaller.
Not because I had become stronger.
Because the illusion around him had disappeared.
“You want forgiveness?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I turned away.
He spoke again.
“I want to testify.”
I stopped.
“Against your father?”
“And myself.”
Vanessa stared at him.
Damian nodded.
“Lily deserves that.”
I faced him.
“So do the women who came before and after her.”
His eyes dropped.
“How many?”
He didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
“Tell the detectives everything.”
I walked away.
Dad caught up with me.
“You okay?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“Neither am I.”
For once, neither of us pretended otherwise.
Then my phone rang.
Margaret Cross.
I answered.
“Mrs. Cross?”
Her voice was trembling.
“Claire, listen carefully.”
“Where are you?”
“There's no time.”
“You have Northstar.”
“Yes.”
“Don't release it.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Good.”
A sound came through the phone.
A door opening.
Margaret gasped.
Then whispered,
“Oh God.”
I heard a man's voice.
Calm.
Familiar.
“Margaret.”
My heart stopped.
Thomas's voice came through my other phone.
But the voice beside Margaret sounded exactly like him.
Margaret screamed.
The call ended.
I stared at the screen.
Then at the phone where Thomas was still connected.
He whispered,
“Claire?”
I felt ice crawl down my spine.
“Thomas.”
“Yes?”
“If you're on the phone with me…”
May you like
I could barely finish.
“…who is standing beside Margaret?”
