Chapter 12 - The Doctor’s Confession Split the Conspiracy in Two

Dr. Stephen Halberg lasted eleven minutes in formal questioning before asking for a lawyer.

He lasted another two hours before his lawyer advised him that forged police credentials, unlawful entry, and participation in a medical fraud could become the least of his problems if investigators connected him to Nikos’s poisoning.

By evening, he began talking.

Marin was not in the interview room. Neither was Nikos. Detective Ortiz called them from Chicago after receiving the first verified statement.

“Halberg says Adrian approached him three weeks ago,” she said. “The plan was to create a documented episode of temporary impairment.”

Nikos’s face went rigid.

“What kind of episode?”

“A controlled medication substitution. Higher beta-blocker dose, mild sedative, enough to produce tremor, fatigue, and slowed speech. Halberg claims Adrian insisted it would be medically safe.”

Marin felt sick.

“So Adrian did poison him.”

“According to Halberg, yes.”

Nikos said nothing.

Ortiz continued. “Halberg supplied the tablets. He says he gave them to Marcus Vale, who was supposed to replace the bottle in your hotel suite.”

“And Celia?”

“Halberg says he never dealt with her directly.”

The conspiracy split in a direction none of them expected.

Adrian had not been an innocent pawn.

He had planned the medical deception.

But Halberg insisted the dosage found in Nikos’s blood was stronger than what he prepared.

“Can he prove that?” Marin asked.

“He kept photographs of the tablets and dosage notes because he was afraid Adrian would blame him if something went wrong.”

Cowardice had created evidence.

The pharmacy analysis supported him. The pills recovered from Nikos contained almost twice the sedative Halberg claimed to have supplied.

Someone had altered the altered medication.

Nikos walked to the hotel window.

“Adrian wanted me impaired,” he said. “Celia wanted me incapacitated enough that the vote could not be challenged.”

“Or dead,” Marin said quietly.

He turned.

Neither of them liked the possibility.

Halberg’s second admission was stranger.

He had not come to Marin’s hotel room to hurt her.

He had come to steal the brass key.

“Who told him we had it?” Nikos asked.

Ortiz answered, “Adrian.”

The room went silent.

Adrian was missing, possibly wounded, yet had apparently contacted Halberg after the attack on his car.

“How?”

“Encrypted message sent from an account Adrian used before. We are tracing it.”

The message ordered Halberg to retrieve the key before Celia’s people could.

Marin sat down.

“He was trying to get the evidence first.”

“Maybe,” Ortiz said. “Or destroy it.”

No one knew which.

Then the hospital in Chicago called.

Preston Hale had regained consciousness.

His first request was to speak with Nikos.

The video connection showed Preston propped against white pillows, bruising dark along one temple. His voice was weak but precise.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Nikos frowned. “For being attacked?”

“For not calling you sooner.”

Preston explained that Celia had sent him the Greek board summary three days before the meeting. She said Nikos requested a final language review. Preston noticed the incapacity clause had been deliberately softened.

He corrected it.

Celia sent it back unchanged.

He called Theo.

Then he received a message from Adrian asking to meet privately at the hotel.

“Adrian?” Nikos said.

“Yes. He sounded panicked. He said Celia had gone too far.”

Preston opened the hotel door expecting Adrian.

Marcus Vale entered instead.

“He asked where my laptop was. I told him I had already backed up the translation.”

“Had you?” Marin asked.

Preston managed a faint smile. “No.”

Vale hit him.

Before losing consciousness, Preston heard Vale on the phone.

The sentence was short.

“She knows the girl’s name now.”

Marin felt cold spread across her shoulders.

“What girl?” Nikos asked.

Preston looked at Marin through the screen.

“I think he meant her.”

“How could Celia know Marin before the restaurant?”

Preston swallowed.

“She didn’t. Not Marin.”

He looked directly at her.

“Eleni’s granddaughter.”

The burglary had not begun because Marin spoke to Nikos.

Celia’s people had been searching for Eleni’s heir before the lunch ever happened.

Marin thought of the Montreal institute letter in her bag.

Her address.

Her application history.

Her grandmother’s name.

Someone had been tracing her quietly.

The restaurant had not dragged Marin into an old conspiracy by chance.

She had already been inside it.

May you like

[COMPLETED] “GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY DRESS! YOU’RE NOTHING BUT AN OLD SEAM...

[COMPLETED] At the Mafia Boss's Engagement Party, I Served His Hungry So...

[COMPLETED] The Mafia Boss’s Fiancée Tried to Dismiss His Father’s Loyal...

She simply had not known. That ignorance had protected her once. Now it could protect no one.

That realization hurt differently from fear. Marin could accept danger that followed a choice she made. What unsettled her was the idea that strangers had been studying her ordinary days—her bus route, work shifts, school application, even the story of her grandmother’s illness—and turning them into strategic variables. She thought of every time she had felt invisible at Bellagio. Someone had been watching precisely because they expected invisibility to keep her predictable.