Chapter 3 - The Letter
Arthur’s attorney, Henry Lawson, arrived before the police finished searching the house.
He was seventy years old and usually moved with careful dignity. That night, he entered the mansion without removing his raincoat and demanded to see the envelope.
I held it against my chest.
Michael sat in the drawing room under the watch of two officers.
Sarah had taken Emma into the kitchen, where another officer was speaking gently to them.
Henry examined the broken seal.
“Did you read it?”
“Not yet.”
He nodded toward the library.
“You should read it privately.”
“No.”
I looked through the open doorway at Michael.
“I have had enough privacy and secrets.”
I stood in front of the fireplace and unfolded Arthur’s letter.
My dearest Eleanor,
If you are reading this, Michael has either ignored my warning or succeeded in hiding the truth from you.
My hands began to shake.
Arthur described the loans he had discovered.
Michael had used falsified documents to borrow nearly two million dollars against three family-owned properties. Some of the money had gone into his failing investment company. The rest had been used to maintain an expensive life he could no longer afford.
Arthur had planned to report the fraud.
Michael begged for time.
He claimed exposure would ruin Sarah and Emma.
Arthur agreed to give him thirty days to return the money and confess to me.
Michael did neither.
The letter continued.
I have placed the mansion and the remaining family assets into a protected trust. You will control the trust for the rest of your life. After you, it will pass to Emma.
Michael will receive only the personal account already in his name. If he interferes with the trust, conceals Elias, or attempts to destroy this letter, he will forfeit even that amount.
I lowered the paper.
Michael’s face had hardened.
“You changed the will because of this?” I asked Henry.
“Arthur did.”
“And you knew?”
“I knew part of it. Arthur kept the location of the final letter secret. He feared Michael had access to his office.”
I continued reading.
Elias is not a threat to you. He is my brother, and I regret every year we lost.
Please do not punish him for my cowardice.
There is one final matter you must understand.
My heart condition was serious, but my death came earlier than my doctors expected. I have no proof that anyone caused it. I only know that, on the night before I died, Michael entered my study and demanded the original trust documents.
If anything about my death troubles you, ask Dr. Feldman for the private medical file I instructed him to preserve.
I looked at Michael.
He stood abruptly.
“This is absurd.”
An officer placed a hand near his shoulder.
Michael pointed at the letter.
“He was confused. He was sick and paranoid.”
“Arthur was neither,” Henry said.
Michael laughed bitterly.
“You all want a villain because it makes grief easier.”
Emma appeared in the doorway.
“No,” she said. “You told Mom to change Grandpa’s medicine.”
The room became silent.
Sarah closed her eyes.
Michael turned toward his daughter.
“You don’t know what you heard.”
Emma stepped closer to me.
“I heard you arguing. Mom said the new pills made Grandpa dizzy. You told her to keep giving them to him until he signed something.”
Sarah began to cry.
The officers exchanged a glance.
May you like
Michael’s anger vanished.
For the first time that night, fear took its place.
