Chapter 4 - THE BODY IN MARIANNE’S HOUSE
Marianne tried to stand as the train gathered speed.
“We have to go back.”
Naomi pulled her down.
“That is exactly what they want.”
“There is a dead person in my house.”
“And Halpern is waiting for you to explain it.”
“I didn’t kill anyone.”
“That may not matter.”
Marianne stared at the photograph.
The angle came from the property opposite her home. Police lights reflected in the wet pavement. Neighbors stood beneath umbrellas.
“Who is the man?”
Naomi enlarged the image.
Only one hand was visible beneath the sheet.
A hospital identification band circled the wrist.
Naomi went pale.
“I know that band.”
“How?”
“It’s from St. Matthew’s private wing.”
“Can you identify him?”
“Not from this.”
The train slowed at a suburban platform.
Naomi stood.
“We get off here.”
“Northfield is three stops away.”
“We are being watched.”
“How do you know?”
Naomi nodded toward the front of the carriage.
A man wearing a baseball cap had changed seats twice since Union Station. He held a newspaper open but had not turned a page.
The doors opened.
Naomi and Marianne stepped onto the platform.
The man lowered his newspaper.
They crossed to the opposite track just as another train arrived.
The man followed.
Naomi grabbed Marianne’s hand and pulled her through the open doors. At the last second, they stepped back onto the platform.
The man remained inside as the doors closed.
He struck the glass with one palm.
The train carried him away.
Marianne’s breathing came fast.
“I am sixty-three years old,” she said. “I should not be running from trains.”
Naomi almost smiled.
“Neither should I.”
They left the station through a pedestrian tunnel and entered a neighborhood of small brick homes.
Naomi led Marianne to a gray house with boarded windows.
“My aunt owned this place,” she said. “No one knows I still have the key.”
Inside, the furniture was covered with sheets.
Naomi switched on a battery lamp.
Marianne stood in the dusty living room and turned on her phone.
Twenty-eight missed calls.
Nine from Derek.
Six from Detective Halpern.
Four from an unknown number.
The rest from friends and neighbors.
A voicemail notification appeared from Halpern.
Naomi shook her head.
“Do not call him.”
“I need to know what they’re saying.”
Marianne played the voicemail on speaker.
“Mrs. Cole, this is Detective Halpern. We need to speak with you immediately regarding an incident at your residence. Please do not return home. Contact me as soon as possible.”
His voice was calm.
Professional.
The same voice that had reassured her after Thomas died.
The next voicemail came from her neighbor, Mrs. Alvarez.
“Marianne, the police are here. They found someone in your kitchen. Derek arrived and told them you’ve been acting confused. Please call me. Something is wrong.”
Marianne stopped the message.
“He is already building the story.”
Naomi nodded.
“Confusion. Financial stress. Emotional instability.”
The third voicemail was from Derek.
“Mom, where are you? The police found Dr. Vale at your house. He’s dead. They think you called him there. Please call me before you say anything to anyone.”
Marianne replayed it.
Dr. Vale.
The man who had fabricated Derek’s illness was dead in her kitchen.
“Why would they kill him?” she asked.
“To stop him from talking.”
“Or to frame me.”
“Both.”
Marianne paced through the dark room.
“What would Dr. Vale be doing at my house?”
“They will create a reason.”
Derek’s next voicemail answered the question.
“Mom, I found the note you left for Dr. Vale. I know you were angry about the treatment costs, but you have to tell me what happened.”
Marianne stared at the phone.
“I left no note.”
“They have one now.”
The final message from Derek was quieter.
“If you run, you’ll make everything worse.”
Naomi took the phone and switched it off.
“He needs you frightened enough to return.”
“What does he gain if I’m arrested?”
“Control of your assets under the documents you signed.”
Marianne looked toward the covered windows.
“And the lottery ticket?”
“He will claim you purchased it with funds he managed, or that you promised it to him, or that your mental state makes you unable to handle it.”
“How do I stop him?”
“We find evidence that cannot disappear.”
“You said you copied records.”
“The drive shows billing fraud. It does not prove murder or explain the accident.”
“What would?”
“My sister’s files.”
“I thought they were destroyed.”
“So did I.”
Naomi crossed to an old bookshelf and removed three volumes. Behind them was a wall safe.
She entered a code.
Inside lay a small cassette recorder, a bundle of photographs, and a sealed envelope.
“My sister mailed this to our aunt two days before the crash. My aunt was afraid to open it. She hid it here.”
“You never opened it?”
“I found it last month.”
Naomi removed the envelope.
“Why wait until now?”
“Because the name written inside did not make sense.”
She handed Marianne a photocopied ledger page.
Four columns listed dates, patient numbers, payments, and initials.
One set of initials appeared repeatedly.
T.C.
“Thomas Cole,” Marianne whispered.
“I thought he was part of the fraud.”
“He was a construction consultant for the hospital.”
“Maybe that gave him access.”
Marianne studied the numbers.
Beside Thomas’s initials were large transfers marked Evidence Retention.
“He was collecting proof.”
Naomi nodded.
“There was another name.”
She unfolded a second page.
D.C.
Derek Cole.
The first entry was dated nine years earlier.
One year before Thomas died.
Marianne’s hands began to shake.
“That is impossible. Derek was twenty-four.”
“He worked at the hospital foundation.”
“For three months.”
“Long enough to meet Dr. Vale and Conrad Pike.”
Marianne remembered Derek quitting suddenly after an argument with his father.
Thomas had refused to explain.
He had only said, Derek needs to learn that some mistakes cannot be solved with money.
At the time, Marianne assumed the argument involved a failed investment.
Now she looked at the ledger again.
“What did my husband discover?”
Naomi placed the cassette recorder on the table.
“My sister recorded one conversation.”
She inserted a tape and pressed play.
Static filled the room.
Then Thomas’s voice emerged.
“If anything happens to me, Marianne must never know Derek was involved.”
A second voice answered.
Rebecca Hart.
“She deserves the truth.”
“No. She’ll protect him.”
“He helped move the patients.”
“He did not know what would happen to them.”
“You cannot be sure.”
Thomas spoke again, closer to the recorder.
“I can be sure of one thing. If Pike learns we copied the files, he will kill us.”
The tape clicked off.
Marianne remained perfectly still.
“Move what patients?” she asked.
Naomi did not answer immediately.
“Rosewood Haven received people who were declared incompetent. Their property was transferred through court-appointed guardians. Some patients had no family. Others had family members who were paid to remain silent.”
“And Derek helped?”
“He may have transported records or money.”
“He was involved before Thomas died.”
“Yes.”
Marianne looked at the dark window.
She had believed Derek’s deception began with a fake illness.
The truth had started years earlier.
Her phone lit up despite being switched off.
A red emergency alert filled the screen.
Naomi picked it up.
“That should not be possible.”
A video call opened automatically.
Derek appeared.
He was sitting in Marianne’s kitchen.
Behind him, police moved around the covered body of Dr. Vale.
“Hello, Mom,” he said.
Marianne stared at the screen.
May you like
Derek smiled.
“You really should have checked what you signed.”
