Chapter 7 - The Account Victor Never Closed

The board meeting was set for four.

At eleven, I found the thing that changed it.

Not in a secret room.

Not in a locked drawer.

In the pantry office.

I was reviewing staff contracts because the lawyers wanted every Northlight payment connected to the estate.

Most people ignored small invoices.

I had spent eleven months living inside them.

Flowers.

Linens.

Pest control.

Elevator inspections.

The ordinary machinery of a rich house.

Northlight had billed us for boiler maintenance the previous December.

I remembered that repair.

A different company had done it.

I pulled the paper file.

Two invoices.

Same date.

Same work.

Different vendors.

Adrian found me twenty minutes later surrounded by folders.

“What happened?”

“Northlight billed work they never did.”

He looked at the papers.

“That surprises you?”

“No.”

I slid another invoice toward him.

“What surprises me is who approved the duplicate.”

P.M.

Peter Malloy.

Adrian frowned.

“He hasn’t worked here in nine years.”

“Exactly.”

The approval had been entered using an old vendor portal account that should have been disabled after his resignation.

The lawyers brought in the estate’s IT manager.

Within an hour, they traced the login.

Queens.

The same neighborhood as Harbor Crown.

Adrian looked at Walter.

“He’s alive.”

Walter nodded.

“And still collecting.”

The preservation order allowed the attorneys to request records from Harbor Crown.

They did not find Peter Malloy there.

They found his storage unit.

Inside were boxes of security schedules.

Copies of invoices.

Old access logs.

And a metal cashbox containing prepaid phones.

One phone still charged.

One number appeared repeatedly.

Thomas Arden.

Another appeared only once.

Victor Voss.

The call lasted three minutes.

Forty-two minutes before the fire.

Adrian stared at the log.

Samuel had said he called Victor.

But this call came after that.

Victor had called Malloy.

Walter’s face tightened.

“He confronted him.”

The lawyers warned us not to guess.

So we didn’t.

We found Malloy instead.

His son Evan had been accepting Northlight payments and passing most of the money to a small assisted-living apartment in Queens.

Peter Malloy was seventy-one.

Sick.

Still alive.

He agreed to speak only through counsel.

No dramatic meeting.

No gun on a table.

Just a conference room and two attorneys.

Malloy looked at Adrian and said, “I knew this day would come.”

Adrian sat across from him.

“Then make it useful.”

Malloy admitted Thomas paid him.

He admitted disabling cameras at Warehouse Four.

He admitted giving Thomas’s men access.

He admitted using Quinn’s card.

Adrian’s voice stayed even.

“Did Thomas order you to kill my father?”

Malloy shook his head.

“No.”

“Did he order the fire?”

Malloy looked at his attorney.

Then answered.

“He ordered the records destroyed.”

“With fire?”

“Yes.”

“Knowing people could be inside?”

Malloy swallowed.

“He said the building would be empty.”

Samuel had already told us two night workers were there.

Adrian continued.

“And Victor?”

“Wasn’t supposed to come.”

“But he did.”

“Yes.”

“What did he call you about?”

Malloy closed his eyes.

“He knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That Thomas had paid me.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“What did he say?”

Malloy looked older with every answer.

“He said if one page burned, he would bury both of us.”

“Both?”

“Thomas and me.”

Adrian leaned forward.

“What did you do?”

“I told the men to hurry.”

Walter looked away.

There it was.

Not murder planned from the beginning.

Something uglier in a different way.

A man willing to burn a building full of evidence.

A security chief willing to help.

And when Victor arrived, neither stopped it.

Adrian’s voice was quiet.

“You knew he was coming.”

Malloy nodded.

“And you let the fire continue.”

“Yes.”

The room went silent.

Malloy’s attorney stopped the interview soon after.

But he had already provided enough to compare against records.

Not enough by itself.

Enough with everything else.

Outside, Adrian stood beside the car.

Walter waited several steps away.

I stood with Adrian.

He looked at the traffic.

“My father died because he came back for two workers.”

“Yes.”

“He also paid Malloy to intimidate unions.”

“Yes.”

He looked at me.

“You don’t soften anything.”

“You have enough people who do.”

That almost made him smile.

His phone rang.

Celeste.

He answered.

She did not say hello.

“My father knows Malloy talked.”

Adrian’s expression changed.

“How?”

“He called me.”

“What did he say?”

Her voice shook.

“That Victor destroyed himself.”

A pause.

“And then he asked me whether I wanted to lose my mother too.”

Adrian went completely still.

Celeste continued.

“I’m done being afraid of him.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to the board meeting.”

“Celeste—”

“No.”

For once, she interrupted him.

“You said we do this legally.”

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...

Her voice steadied.

“So let me tell the truth where he can hear it.”