Chapter 5 - THE MAN IN THE HALLWAY
The building’s security camera captured a man entering our floor at 10:12 that morning.
He wore a baseball cap, a gray jacket, and gloves.
He knew where the cameras were positioned.
He kept his face turned away from every lens.
He entered the apartment using a copied key before damaging the lock from the inside.
The break-in had been staged to look forced.
Only three people had ever possessed keys.
Jason.
Diane.
Brooke.
Brooke claimed her key had been lost months earlier.
Diane claimed she returned hers after Lily was born.
Jason said his key remained on his ring.
Detective Bell asked to see it.
Jason produced a silver key.
Bell examined it.
“This is newly cut.”
Jason’s face went pale.
“My old one stopped working.”
“When?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Who made the replacement?”
“I did.”
“Where is the original?”
“I lost it.”
Diane interrupted.
“My son is not a criminal.”
Bell turned toward her.
“We haven’t accused him of anything.”
“You’re treating him like a suspect.”
“He is a person with access.”
“He was with his attorney.”
Ward immediately confirmed Jason’s alibi.
Security footage also showed him entering Ward’s office before the break-in.
That did not eliminate the possibility that he sent someone else.
The intruder had taken an old laptop, two flash drives, and the lockbox where I had once stored documents.
What he did not know was that the lockbox contained grocery receipts and expired warranties.
The real evidence was encrypted online.
Eleanor almost smiled when I told her.
“You expected this.”
“I expected Jason to search the apartment.”
“Did you expect a professional?”
“No.”
That frightened me more than anything else.
Jason was indecisive.
Diane was impulsive.
Brooke was vindictive.
None of them possessed the discipline shown by the man in the video.
Someone else was helping them.
That evening, Rachel drove Lily and me to a confidential hotel arranged through Eleanor’s security consultant.
We used the service entrance.
Our names were not placed in the hotel’s public system.
Two guards watched the hallway.
Lily finally ate half a banana and several crackers.
She refused to sit in the hotel’s high chair.
The sight of it made her cry.
I held her on my lap instead.
After she fell asleep, Eleanor called.
“We traced one of the transfers from your joint account.”
“To Diane?”
“It passed through Diane’s account.”
“Where did it go?”
“To a private consulting firm.”
“What kind of consulting?”
“The kind that does not have a real office, employees, or public clients.”
“Who owns it?”
“A man named Raymond Cole.”
I did not recognize the name.
Eleanor sent me his photograph.
I stared at the screen.
Raymond was the man from the hallway.
I had seen him twice before.
Both times, he had been standing beside Diane at charity events.
She introduced him as an old family friend.
I enlarged the photograph.
A thin scar crossed his right eyebrow.
The security footage had captured the same scar when he briefly turned toward the elevator mirror.
“It’s him,” I whispered.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
“Then Diane did not simply send someone into your apartment.”
May you like
Eleanor’s voice became colder.
“She paid him using money stolen from you.”
