Chapter 9 - THE BARGAIN IN THE HOSPITAL CHAPEL
Investigator Singh wanted Mark arrested immediately.
Julia advised caution.
“If Robert has Leah, an arrest could trigger a contingency.”
“You’re suggesting we negotiate with a man who attempted to murder his wife?” Singh asked.
“I’m suggesting Mark is frightened enough to become useful.”
Claire agreed.
She hated herself for it.
Mark was moved to the hospital chapel under guard. The chapel sat on the ground floor near an unused courtyard, far from patient rooms. State officers searched the space, checked every entrance, and removed a maintenance worker whose identification could not be verified.
Claire could not leave her bed safely, so the meeting took place by secure video.
Mark appeared on a tablet placed before her.
He sat in the front pew, hands clasped between his knees. Without his family around him, he looked smaller.
Not less dangerous.
Only less protected.
“Where is Leah?” Claire asked.
“I don’t know the exact location.”
“Then you lied.”
“I know who has her.”
“Robert.”
“Yes.”
“The video could have been recorded months ago.”
“It wasn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“He sent it to me at midnight.”
“Why?”
“To make sure I fixed the problem.”
Claire almost laughed.
“The problem being me.”
Mark looked toward the chapel’s stained-glass window.
“He said you had accessed the Northstar records.”
“I found one account.”
“You found enough.”
“You stepped on my hand.”
Mark’s eyes returned to the camera.
“You were going to expose everyone.”
“So you tried to kill me.”
“I panicked.”
“You watched me fall.”
“I didn’t know the railing would break.”
“You crushed my fingers until I let go.”
“I thought you were bluffing.”
Claire stared at him.
“About gravity?”
Mark’s face twisted.
“I made a mistake.”
“No. You made a decision.”
He lowered his voice.
“I can still help you.”
“Why?”
“Because Robert is going to kill me.”
“You seem surprised.”
“He told Holloway to make my arrest look like suicide.”
Investigator Singh, standing off camera, took note.
Mark continued.
“My father doesn’t leave witnesses when a plan fails.”
“Your father?”
Mark’s expression changed.
“You don’t know.”
“Know what?”
“Robert isn’t my biological father.”
Claire waited.
“Arthur Parker was.”
For several seconds, no one spoke.
Claire looked at Julia.
Julia’s shock appeared genuine.
Mark leaned closer to the camera.
“My mother had an affair with Arthur. Robert found out after I was born. He raised me because Evelyn threatened to expose financial crimes they committed together.”
“Does Robert know Arthur was your father?”
“He always knew.”
“Then you and I are related.”
“Half cousins, technically.”
Claire felt sick.
Their marriage had been arranged by people who knew.
Helen had encouraged the relationship from the beginning.
Evelyn had welcomed Claire too quickly.
Robert had paid for the wedding.
“What was the purpose of our marriage?” Claire asked.
“To merge access.”
“To Northstar?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you need me?”
“Arthur designed the trust so his bloodline controlled separate authorization layers. You had access through Helen. I had access through him.”
“You knew this before we married?”
“No.”
“When did you learn?”
“Three years ago.”
“And you stayed married to me.”
“I loved you.”
Claire’s laugh came out broken.
“You monitored me, forged my signature, sabotaged my company, drugged me, and tried to murder me.”
“I didn’t drug you.”
“You participated.”
“I was trying to stop Robert.”
“By doing exactly what he wanted?”
Mark struck the wooden pew with his fist.
“You don’t understand him.”
“Then explain.”
“He has judges, police officers, physicians, bankers. He owns people before they realize they’ve been purchased. When I resisted, he sent me photographs of you sleeping.”
Claire felt the room turn cold.
“He threatened you?”
“He threatened both of us.”
“And your response was to help him destroy me.”
“I thought if I gained full control of Northstar, we could leave.”
“We?”
“You and me.”
Claire stared at him, amazed by the story he had built to preserve himself as a victim.
“What is inside the deposit box?” she asked.
Mark’s eyes shifted.
“I don’t know.”
“Wrong answer.”
“I swear.”
“Why did Leah warn me not to open it?”
“Because the box triggers an audit release.”
“What does that mean?”
“Arthur created a dead-man system. If the box is opened correctly, copies of the archive are supposed to be sent to multiple agencies and newspapers.”
“That sounds useful.”
“It would also expose everyone whose identity is inside.”
“Criminals.”
“Witnesses. Informants. Victims. People in protection programs.”
Claire looked at Julia.
“Can that be true?”
“It’s possible.”
Mark continued quickly.
“Robert says Arthur hid illegal surveillance records in the archive. Medical files. Adoption records. Private information about hundreds of people. Releasing everything could destroy innocent lives.”
“And Robert wants to prevent that out of compassion?”
“No. He wants the original archive so he can control them.”
“Where is Leah?”
“Robert has a private medical facility outside the city.”
“Name.”
“Vale Recovery Center.”
Claire had never heard of it.
Julia searched.
“No licensed facility exists under that name.”
“It’s beneath an assisted living property called Rosehaven,” Mark said. “That’s where Margaret was taken.”
Julia moved closer to the tablet.
“Margaret is alive?”
“She was six months ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
Mark laughed bitterly.
“Because until tonight, I thought Julia worked for Robert.”
Julia went still.
“Why?”
“Her name appears on payments from one of his companies.”
Julia’s face hardened.
“That’s impossible.”
Mark held up his phone.
“I have the records.”
Singh ordered him to send them.
A file appeared moments later.
Three transfers totaling nine hundred thousand dollars had been made to Reyes Forensic Consulting.
Julia examined the routing numbers.
“That is not my account.”
“But it uses your company registration,” Singh said.
“Someone cloned it.”
Mark leaned toward the camera.
“Or she’s lying.”
The chapel lights suddenly went out.
The video feed shook.
A man shouted.
Then came two gunshots.
When emergency lights activated, Mark was gone.
One state officer lay bleeding near the altar.
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On the chapel wall, written in fresh red paint, were five words:
CLAIRE MUST OPEN THE BOX.
