Chapter 6 - The Freezing of the Bloodline
Special Agent Lin walked directly to the head of the table. She didn't look at the caviar, the vintage wine, or the trembling socialites who were frantically checking their phones.
Her eyes locked onto Richard.
“Richard Sterling, you are under arrest for securities fraud, wire fraud, conspiracy to commit money laundering, and obstruction of justice,” Agent Lin stated, reciting the charges with clinical precision.
“This is an outrage!” Richard screamed, spit flying from his lips. He turned to the Meridian partners sitting pale-faced at the opposite end. “David! Robert! Tell them! This is a smear campaign orchestrated by my mentally unstable wife! We’re closing the merger tomorrow!”
David, the senior managing partner of Meridian, stood up slowly. He adjusted his cufflinks, cast a look of profound disgust at Richard, and then turned to Agent Lin.
“The Meridian Group withdrew our letter of intent forty-five minutes ago, Agent,” David said smoothly, pulling a folded legal document from his inside pocket. “We received an anonymous tip with full audit logs this afternoon. We have already initiated our own civil action for fraudulent misrepresentation.”
Richard’s knees buckled. He grabbed the edge of the dining table to keep from falling.
Forty-five minutes ago.
Before the soup had even been cleared. Before he had mocked my pottery. Before he had raised his hand to my face. His entire life’s work had already been dead in the water, and he hadn't even smelled the smoke.
“You...” Richard turned his gaze to me, his eyes wide with an animalistic fury that had nowhere left to go. “You destroyed me.”
“You destroyed yourself the day you thought people were disposable, Richard,” I replied, stepping forward until I was standing beside Agent Lin.
I picked up the black envelope from his plate and handed it directly to the agent.
“Here is the duplicate chain of custody for the Grand Cayman accounts, Agent Lin,” I said calmly. “Including the direct transfers from Sterling-Cross Capital to the personal account of Ms. Danielle Croft.”
Danielle let out a strangled shriek from the floor. “What?! What transfers?!”
“The six hundred thousand dollars Richard wired you last Friday for ‘consulting services,’ Danielle,” I said, not even looking down at her. “I believe the IRS calls that receiving proceeds of an active fraud. You might want to hire a lawyer before midnight.”
Danielle burst into hysterical sobs, burying her face in her hands on the wine-stained carpet.
May you like
Two agents moved in, grabbing Richard’s arms and wrenching them behind his back. The cold, mechanical snap of steel handcuffs echoed in the vault-like ceiling.
***
