Chapter 3 - The Trustee
Martin Shaw arrived at the police station wearing a charcoal suit and the irritated expression of a man whose time was worth more than everyone else’s.
Sarah had called him after Officer Collins suggested that any trustee connected to Noah’s money needed to be notified immediately.
Martin had handled David Bennett’s estate after the fatal highway accident three years earlier.
He had sat beside Sarah at the funeral.
He had arranged Noah’s trust.
He had told Sarah repeatedly that David’s money would remain safe until Noah became an adult.
When he entered the interview room and saw the burned document fragments inside evidence sleeves, his expression did not change.
“That is disturbing.”
Sarah stared at him.
“Is it real?”
“I can’t authenticate burned pieces of paper from a photograph.”
“Does your office use forms like this?”
Martin adjusted his cuff.
“Possibly.”
Officer Collins sat opposite him.
“Does Richard Vale have authority over Noah Bennett’s trust?”
“No.”
“Has he ever requested access?”
Martin paused.
“He has asked questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“General financial questions.”
Sarah leaned forward.
“He told me you approved refinancing my house.”
Martin looked at her.
“I never said that.”
“He said you had already prepared documents.”
“I did not.”
Collins slid the business card photograph across the table.
“Your card was burned with those documents.”
Martin looked at it.
“That proves almost nothing. I’ve been to Sarah’s home many times.”
“No,” Sarah said.
Martin turned toward her.
“You haven’t.”
“What?”
“You’ve never been inside that garage.”
Silence.
Martin smiled faintly.
“Then perhaps Richard had my card.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Officer Collins closed the folder.
“We’ll need records of any communication between you and Richard.”
Martin’s expression hardened.
“Detective, I’m an attorney.”
“Officer.”
“Then you should understand that some communications may be privileged.”
“Richard isn’t your client, according to you.”
Martin said nothing.
Sarah watched him.
For years she had trusted this man because David had trusted him.
But now she remembered something.
The first person who had encouraged her to attend the grief support group after David’s death had been Martin.
Sarah had resisted.
Martin kept insisting.
It was at that support group that she met Richard.
She felt cold.
“Martin.”
He looked at her.
“Did you know Richard before I met him?”
Martin’s answer came quickly.
“No.”
Too quickly.
Sarah stared.
“You’re lying.”
“That’s a serious accusation.”
“You looked at the floor.”
“Excuse me?”
“David used to say you looked at the floor when you lied.”
Martin’s face became still.
Officer Collins noticed.
Sarah continued.
“You did it when David asked whether you had lost money in that real estate deal twelve years ago.”
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“You knew Richard.”
Martin stood.
“I think this interview is finished.”
Officer Collins remained seated.
“You’re free to leave.”
Martin picked up his briefcase.
“But we’ll be seeking preservation orders for trust records and communications.”
He stopped.
Only for half a second.
Then continued toward the door.
Sarah saw it.
So did Collins.
After he left, Sarah whispered,
“He knew.”
Officer Collins did not answer immediately.
“We need evidence.”
Sarah looked toward the hallway where Noah sat with Helen.
“There’s more.”
“What?”
Sarah remembered Richard’s office.
A locked drawer.
He had told her it contained business contracts.
She had once opened the office door while he was on the phone.
Richard slammed the drawer shut so quickly that she thought he had caught his fingers.
“There’s a drawer in his office.”
Officer Pierce obtained Sarah’s written consent to search areas of the house she had authority over.
Inside Richard’s desk they found bank statements, a second phone, copies of Sarah’s driver’s license and several pages covered with examples of her signature.
Then Pierce opened a small black notebook.
The first pages contained numbers.
Dates.
Addresses.
Initials.
On one page was a simple line.
S.B.
Widow.
House 1.2.
Trust 4.1.
Boy 10.
Sarah sat down when she saw it.
She was not described as a wife.
She was described like an account.
A target.
Officer Collins turned the page.
Three other sets of initials appeared.
C.D.
M.R.
J.H.
Each followed by numbers.
“Do these names mean anything to you?”
Sarah shook her head.
Collins photographed every page.
Then Noah appeared in the doorway.
He had been told to stay with Helen.
He looked at the notebook.
“Is that Richard’s?”
Sarah quickly closed it.
“Yes.”
Noah stared at her.
“There’s another phone.”
Everyone looked at him.
Pierce held up the second phone they had already found.
“This one?”
“No.”
Noah shook his head.
“He has a little silver phone.”
Sarah had never seen it.
“Where?”
Noah pointed upstairs.
“Sometimes he goes into the attic to use it.”
The attic was unfinished.
Old Christmas decorations filled one side.
David’s camping equipment filled another.
They searched for nearly twenty minutes.
Nothing.
Then Noah spotted a loose floorboard.
Richard had once yelled at him for playing near it.
Pierce lifted it.
Beneath the board sat a small silver phone sealed inside a plastic bag.
It had no lock code.
There were only six saved contacts.
One was listed as M.
The message history with M had been deleted.
But there was a draft message Richard had never sent.
Sarah read it twice.
FRIDAY FAILED. BOY SAW TOO MUCH. BURNED PAPERS. IF I’M HELD, FIX SHAW BEFORE HE TALKS.
Sarah stared at Officer Collins.
“Fix Shaw?”
Collins took the phone from her.
“That could mean many things.”
Sarah looked toward the window.
Martin Shaw’s car was already gone.
“What if it means exactly what it sounds like?”
Collins immediately called the station.
Martin Shaw had left eighteen minutes earlier.
His office said he had not returned.
His assistant said he had cancelled all afternoon appointments.
By six o’clock, Martin’s phone was turned off.
By seven, his home was empty.
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By eight, his car was found inside a parking garage near the interstate.
Martin Shaw was gone.
