Chapter 9 - The Empty Safe
The backup key was gone.
So was a sealed envelope of emergency credentials.
No broken lock.
No damaged hinges.
Whoever opened the safe knew the code.
Adrian stared at it for a long time.
“Who knows the combination?” Claire asked.
“Me.”
“Anyone else?”
“No.”
Dominic gave him a look.
“Not even me.”
Claire crossed her arms.
“Then someone watched you enter it.”
Jonah shook his head.
“Or cloned the keypad.”
Adrian looked at him.
“You can do that?”
“With the right hardware.”
Claire sat at the desk.
“Stop thinking like owners. Think like thieves.”
Three men looked at her.
She pointed at the accounting screen.
“They didn’t need permanent access. They needed one night.”
Adrian said, “For what?”
“To make the books say you stole from your own company.”
Dominic frowned.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does if the goal isn’t money.”
“What is the goal?”
Claire looked at Adrian.
“Control.”
Silence.
She continued.
“If law enforcement believes Adrian authorized fake transfers, his companies freeze. Banks panic. Partners pull out. Someone buys distressed assets.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“Victor.”
“Maybe.”
Dominic said, “And Raymond.”
“Maybe.”
Claire hated that word now.
She searched South Harbor Relief Foundation.
Public filings showed three directors.
One was Adrian’s mother.
One was a retired judge.
The third made Claire’s pulse jump.
Victor Sloan.
Adrian stared at the screen.
“My mother knows Victor?”
“Apparently.”
He called her.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Adrian grabbed his coat.
Claire stood.
“Where are you going?”
“To her house.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“You need me.”
“That is becoming an annoying sentence.”
“Still true.”
Dominic followed.
Twenty minutes later, they reached a limestone house near Lincoln Park.
The front door was open.
Adrian went inside first.
“Mom?”
No answer.
The living room was empty.
So was the kitchen.
In the study, a lamp was on.
A wineglass sat half full.
On the desk lay a stack of foundation statements.
Claire picked up the top page.
Several transfers had been reversed within minutes of arriving.
Money in.
Money out.
Same amounts.
Same dates.
Then she saw the final line.
$1,900,000.
Outgoing recipient: R. KELLER HOLDINGS.
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
A sound came from upstairs.
They all looked up.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Descending.
Adrian stepped in front of Claire.
A woman appeared at the landing.
Elegant.
Silver-haired.
Calm.
Adrian exhaled.
“Mom.”
She looked at Claire.
May you like
Then at the papers in Claire’s hand.
And said, “You shouldn’t have brought her here.”
