Chapter 7 - The House of Cards Collapses
Jonathan Croft immediately stood up, raising both hands. "Agent, my client has executive immunity under corporate arbitration statutes. Any financial dispute must go through—"
"Save it, Croft," Harlan interrupted, placing a stack of blue-bound forensic dossiers in front of each board member. "These are unsealed warrants signed at six o'clock this morning by Judge Katherine Vance of the Second Circuit Court of Appeals."
The board members eagerly flipped open the binders, their eyes widening in horror as they scanned the contents.
"Over the past eighteen months," Harlan announced to the room, "Mr. Caleb Sterling has funneled seventy-four million dollars into dummy accounts registered under 'Apex Holdings' in the Cayman Islands. These funds were not invested. They were used to service personal gambling debts, luxury real estate acquisitions, and illegal short positions against Vance Global’s own stock."
A collective gasp echoed across the table.
"You shorted our own stock?!" Henderson barked, slamming his fist onto the table as he glared at Caleb. "You treasonous bastard! You were actively trying to tank the share price to cover your spread!"
"That's a lie! It’s forged!" Caleb screamed, sweat breaking out along his hairline. He turned to me, his eyes wild with desperation. "Ellie, tell them! You know Arthur has always hated me! He’s trying to steal the company from both of us!"
"I don't need Arthur to tell me who you are, Caleb," I said, walking slowly down the length of the table until I stopped opposite him. I tapped the mahogany surface. "I listened to the Zurich tapes last night."
Caleb froze. The blood drained completely from his face, leaving him a ghastly, translucent grey.
"You talked to Dr. Emil Brandt in Geneva on September 14th," I whispered, loud enough for every board member to hear. "You asked him about the chemical composition of synthetic oxytocin antagonists. You wanted to know how much it would take to induce fatal hemorrhaging during a third-trimester delivery without leaving traces in standard toxicology screens."
The entire room seemed to suck in its breath. Even his lawyer, Jonathan Croft, took a sudden step away from Caleb, closing his briefcase with a sharp click.
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"I... I never said that," Caleb stammered, his voice cracking into a pathetic whimper. "It was hypothetical... a medical research inquiry for our biotech venture..."
"Special Agent Miller," I said, never breaking eye contact with the man I had once loved. "Take him out of my building."
