Chapter 7 - THE VOICE FROM TWENTY YEARS AGO
The cassette was old, but the recording survived.
Mercer arranged for a technician to digitize it.
We listened inside the estate library.
At first, there was only static.
Then my father’s voice filled the room.
It was stronger than I remembered.
He sounded angry.
“I will not certify land that can collapse.”
Another man responded.
I recognized Charles immediately.
“You are exaggerating the risk.”
“There are empty tunnels beneath the western slope.”
“If one support fails, the entire production wing could come down.”
Eleanor’s voice followed.
“You have a daughter, Thomas.”
My heart stopped.
My father answered slowly.
“Do not mention Claire.”
“We are mentioning reality.”
“You can sign the confidentiality agreement, accept compensation, and return to your family.”
“Or you can create an enemy with the resources to ruin you.”
The recording went silent for several seconds.
Then my father spoke again.
“I copied every report.”
“If anything happens to me, those copies will reach the state.”
Charles laughed.
“Nothing is going to happen to you.”
“You will simply reconsider.”
The tape ended with the sound of a door closing.
No one in the library moved.
My father died two days later when his car went through a guardrail outside Sonoma.
The police ruled it an accident.
Rain had fallen that evening.
Investigators believed he had lost control.
I had accepted that explanation for six years.
Now I could not.
Mercer turned toward Charles.
“Did Caldwell Holdings have any involvement in Thomas Bennett’s death?”
“No.”
Charles answered too quickly.
Eleanor remained expressionless.
“Did you threaten him?” Mercer asked.
“We encouraged him to be reasonable.”
“Did he sign the agreement?”
“No.”
“Then why is his signature on it?”
Charles looked toward Eleanor.
That was enough.
Mercer noticed.
So did I.
Eleanor folded her hands.
“My husband is confused.”
“He has been under tremendous stress.”
Charles laughed bitterly.
“You always say that when someone remembers the truth.”
Her face tightened.
Mercer ended the interview and separated them.
Outside the library, Maya caught my arm.
“Do not confront Eleanor alone.”
“She threatened my father.”
“We still do not know whether she caused the accident.”
“She knows.”
Maya nodded.
“And frightened people destroy evidence.”
We returned to San Francisco under police escort.
Sergeant Ruiz arranged for an officer to remain outside my building.
That evening, Maya filed an emergency petition preventing any transfer or lien involving my apartment.
She also sent fraud notices to every lender associated with Golden Crest.
At seven thirty, the primary bank suspended the twelve-million-dollar payment.
At eight fifteen, Caldwell Holdings issued a statement blaming a temporary documentation error.
At nine, its investors began calling emergency meetings.
At ten, Adrian was released on bail.
He came directly to my building.
The security camera showed him standing in the lobby with a bandage around one hand.
He looked up at the camera.
May you like
Then he held up a handwritten sign.
YOUR FATHER WASN’T THE ONLY ONE WHO MADE COPIES.
