“Marcus claims the records are hidden in a location only he can identify.”
I felt no relief.
Marcus had learned bargaining from the people who used him.
“What does he want?” I asked.
Priya hesitated.
“He wants to speak with you alone.”
PART 8
THE INHERITANCE NONE OF US SAW COMING
Three weeks later, I sat across from Marcus in a secure interview room.
A glass window separated us from two officers and Samuel. The conversation was recorded.
Marcus wore a plain gray uniform.
Without his tailored jacket, expensive watch, and practiced confidence, he looked younger.
He also looked tired.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, “Your lip healed.”
I did not answer.
He looked down at his hands.
“I heard your ribs are getting better.”
“They are.”
“I didn’t know they were broken.”
“You did not stop to ask.”
His face tightened.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
“I know what I did.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“You struck your mother because she would not give you money. You forged legal documents. You helped a man who had been stealing from our family for years. You brought a g/u/n into the house.”
“I didn’t know Victor had stolen that much.”
“But you knew he was stealing.”
Marcus looked away.
“Yes.”
“And you continued.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He swallowed.
“Because I was desperate.”
I waited.
He seemed to expect sympathy.
When none came, he continued.
“My investment company was collapsing. I owed clients. I owed banks. I owed people who do not accept apologies.”
“So you chose to make your problem mine.”
“I thought the farm money would fix everything.”
“The farm money was never yours.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew it then.”
He closed his eyes.
The silence stretched between us.
Finally, I asked, “Why did you request this meeting?”
Marcus leaned forward.
“Victor kept a second archive.”
“Where?”
“I need protection.”
“You have attorneys for that.”
“I need you to tell the prosecutor I cooperated.”
“I will tell the truth. Nothing more.”
He nodded slowly.
“The archive is beneath the old fountain at Reeves’s country house.”
“How do you know?”
“Victor took me there once. He wanted me to understand how much information he controlled.”
“What is in it?”
“Payment records. Judges. Bank officers. Developers. Insurance investigators. Everyone.”
“Why did he show you?”
Marcus gave a humorless laugh.
“Because he wanted me to know I could never escape him.”
I studied my son.
For years, Marcus had believed money created freedom.
Instead, every dishonest dollar became another chain.
“Did Victor cause your father’s illness?” I asked.
“No.”
“How can you be certain?”
“Because he was furious that Dad became ill when he did. He thought Dad had hidden evidence before the diagnosis.”
Relief came unexpectedly.
Daniel had been taken from us by illness, not conspiracy.
The truth was still painful.
But it was clean.
