Chapter 10 - THE MAN AT THE CAMERAS
Marcus had been the first person to confirm the footage.
He had protected the evidence.
He had helped chase Victoria.
He had also controlled every camera, door, and alarm in the building.
When federal agents entered the security center, Marcus was gone.
His office safe stood open. Hard drives were missing. A maintenance map lay on the desk with three exits circled.
I called him.
He answered on the fourth ring.
“Claire.”
“Where are you?”
“Somewhere Grant cannot reach me.”
“The money reached you.”
Silence.
“You have thirty seconds before I give this number to federal agents.”
“You think I stole four hundred million dollars?”
“I think you received part of it.”
“I received it because Henry arranged it.”
That stopped me.
Marcus claimed Henry had created a contingency fund years ago. If the Bennett family attempted to seize the foundation, money would move automatically into protected accounts controlled by independent custodians.
“Why use my identity?”
“Because Henry trusted you. He did not trust the legal system to move fast enough.”
“Then why disappear?”
“Because one of the custodians was murdered last night.”
He sent me a photograph.
A retired judge lay unconscious in his study while paramedics worked around him. The judge held one of the protected accounts.
“This is bigger than Grant’s fraud,” Marcus said. “Someone is hunting every person connected to Henry’s contingency plan.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. But Victoria is not the smartest person in her own conspiracy.”
The line went dead.
Federal agents traced the call to an old railway station.
Lena and I arrived minutes later.
We found Marcus in a locked ticket office, bleeding from a cut on his forehead.
He had been attacked.
On the floor beside him was a museum hard drive.
“I took this because the attacker wanted it,” he said.
“What’s on it?”
“Off-site camera archives. Ten years of private meetings.”
We connected the drive.
One video showed Victoria meeting with bankers, appraisers, and politicians.
Another showed Grant signing false restoration invoices.
Then we found footage from Henry’s final night alive.
Henry sat in his museum office, weak but alert.
A man entered.
He was younger then, but I recognized him immediately: Senator Charles Vale, chairman of the state cultural committee and the gala’s honored guest.
Vale argued with Henry about the trust.
Henry said, “You will never get the collection.”
Vale replied, “Then your family will destroy itself trying.”
The video ended when Vale reached toward the camera.
Marcus swallowed hard. “Henry died six hours later.”
Officially, Henry suffered a heart attack.
But the video showed Vale placing a small bottle beside Henry’s tea.
Before we could copy the file, a shot shattered the ticket-office window.
Marcus fell.
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A second bullet struck the hard drive.
And from the platform outside, Senator Vale’s black car sped into traffic.
