Chapter 6 - THE AGENT AT THE BACK DOOR
Agent Cross lowered his identification.
“Daniel Cooper. Home medical security consultant.”
Richard’s smile did not change.
“A consultant?”
“Nurse Bennett contacted our company about emergency alert systems.”
Marian immediately understood.
“Mrs. Whitmore has experienced several falls.”
“I have?” Eleanor asked, deliberately confused.
Marian touched her arm.
“You don’t remember the stairs last month?”
Eleanor looked uncertain.
Richard studied all three of them.
Then his gaze moved to Caroline.
“You should be in bed.”
Caroline stepped behind her mother.
“I wanted some air.”
“You are not well.”
“I’m well enough to decide where I stand.”
Richard’s expression tightened.
Agent Cross opened a folder he carried.
“I can return at a more convenient time.”
“No,” Richard said. “You’re already here.”
He extended his hand.
“May I see your company credentials?”
Cross handed him a business card.
It identified a real security company that routinely installed emergency systems for elderly clients. The federal agents had prepared the cover before arriving.
Richard examined the card.
“What exactly would you install?”
“Panic buttons, fall sensors, and waterproof emergency recorders.”
“Recorders?”
“Devices that document accidents. Insurance companies sometimes require them.”
Richard looked toward Eleanor.
“That will not be necessary.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because you won’t be alone.”
“I often am.”
“Not anymore.”
Cross took back the card.
“The system is optional.”
Eleanor looked directly at Richard.
“I want it.”
“You are not authorized to approve expenses.”
“How expensive can a button be?”
“This is not about money.”
“What is it about?”
Richard’s gaze held hers.
“Trust.”
Eleanor smiled.
“Then you have nothing to fear.”
Richard finally agreed, but only after demanding that he supervise the installation.
Cross returned the next day with Agent Naomi Reed posing as a technician.
They installed three visible devices.
A fall sensor near the staircase.
An emergency button beside Eleanor’s bed.
A waterproof recorder disguised beneath the soap dish in her bathroom.
Richard watched every movement.
He did not know that the visible devices were distractions.
Reed placed smaller transmitters inside existing listening devices, allowing federal investigators to intercept the surveillance system Richard had already installed.
By evening, the agents could hear every conversation captured inside Whitmore House.
They also discovered that the recordings were transmitted to a concealed server in Richard’s private office.
“We need access to that server,” Reed said later in Marian’s apartment.
Eleanor sat at the kitchen table with Caroline wrapped in a blanket beside her.
Cross displayed a diagram of the house.
“The recordings may prove unlawful surveillance, but they may also contain evidence of financial crimes.”
“Why not obtain a warrant?” Marian asked.
“We are working on it.”
“Working?”
“The judge wants stronger probable cause connecting Richard to the foundation fraud.”
Eleanor looked at Cross.
“What fraud?”
“Over nineteen million dollars has disappeared from charitable medical funds over eight years.”
“Eight years?”
“The first suspicious transfer occurred six months after Richard married Caroline.”
Caroline closed her eyes.
Cross continued.
“The money moved through clinics, consulting companies, and international accounts.”
“Why was I never informed?”
“Because every internal audit was approved by people close to your son-in-law.”
Eleanor immediately thought of the innovation fund.
Richard had spent years placing allies in financial departments.
“Where did the money go?” she asked.
“We traced part of it to shell companies associated with Graham Pike.”
“And the rest?”
“Possibly an account created under Thomas Mercer’s identity.”
Caroline looked up.
“Richard’s father is dead.”
“We don’t know that.”
Eleanor felt the room shift.
“What are you saying?”
“Thomas Mercer’s death was never confirmed.”
“He disappeared twenty-two years ago.”
“Yes.”
Cross placed an old surveillance photograph on the table.
It showed a man entering a private bank in Luxembourg.
The image was grainy, but the date was only fourteen months old.
The man had white hair and walked with a cane.
His face was partly turned away.
Caroline stared at the photograph.
“That could be anyone.”
Cross placed another image beside it.
This one showed Richard entering the same bank two days later.
Eleanor looked from one photograph to the other.
“You believe they met.”
“We believe Richard may have been moving money for his father.”
Caroline stood.
“No.”
“Caroline,” Eleanor said gently.
“My husband lied about his name. He lied about you. He lied about the documents. But he would have told me if his father were alive.”
Eleanor did not answer.
Caroline saw the pity in her mother’s face.
“You think I’m a fool.”
“No.”
“I lived with him for twelve years.”
“He spent twelve years making sure you saw only what he wanted you to see.”
Caroline turned away.
A phone vibrated on the table.
It was Eleanor’s.
The caller identification displayed Henry Dalton, her longtime attorney.
Eleanor answered.
“Henry?”
For several seconds, she heard only breathing.
Then Henry whispered.
“Do not trust the federal agents.”
Eleanor looked at Cross and Reed.
“What happened?”
“They are not investigating Richard.”
“Who is?”
“No one.”
“Henry, where are you?”
“I found the original Mercer files.”
A door slammed on his end of the call.
Henry gasped.
Then his voice became urgent.
“Eleanor, the theft twenty-two years ago was not committed by Thomas Mercer.”
“Then who committed it?”
Henry tried to answer.
A sharp sound interrupted him.
The phone struck the floor.
Someone picked it up.
A man spoke calmly.
May you like
“Mrs. Whitmore, your attorney has had an accident.”
The call ended.
