Chapter 11 - THE EIGHT PERCENT
Robert Vale had been chairman for nine years.
He owned exactly eight percent of Carlisle Crown Holdings.
The final eight percent Malcolm needed.
I had always considered Robert boring.
That might have been his greatest talent.
Boring men were rarely suspected of building dangerous plans.
Police reached the building before Robert could leave.
He was not arrested.
Standing outside a locked vault was suspicious.
It was not automatically criminal.
Robert claimed he had received an anonymous warning about a break-in.
He claimed he locked the vault because he thought thieves were inside.
No one believed him.
But belief and evidence were different things.
When police opened the vault, the envelope was still in my hands.
Robert saw it.
For one second, his expression revealed everything.
Fear.
Then the mask returned.
“We need to talk, Emma.”
“No.”
“This concerns the survival of the company.”
“You mean the sale of it.”
“Pelham offers stability.”
“My mother rejected Pelham.”
“Your mother was sentimental.”
“My father rejected them.”
Robert glanced at Nathan.
“Thomas is dead.”
I watched his face.
“He isn’t.”
Robert froze.
Only for half a second.
Enough.
“You knew.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.”
Maya stepped between us.
“Conversation over.”
We left.
By nine that morning, Maya filed an emergency action challenging the forged share transfer.
She also provided the court with my hospital records and the security footage showing Nathan assaulting me.
Nathan submitted a sworn declaration admitting that I had not knowingly signed the transfer agreement.
That was the first decent thing he had done.
It did not erase anything.
It simply stopped making things worse.
Peter Lang disappeared before investigators could serve him.
His office was empty.
His phone was disconnected.
His assistant said he had left town without explanation.
Malcolm sent me one message.
COME HOME.
WE CAN FIX THIS PRIVATELY.
I replied with three words.
NO, WE CAN’T.
At 11:30, Carlisle Crown’s board issued an emergency notice.
The Friday merger vote had been moved forward.
Thursday.
Tomorrow.
Malcolm was accelerating the plan.
Maya stared at the notice.
“He knows the trust conversion happens Friday.”
“So he wants the merger approved before my voting rights activate.”
“Yes.”
“Can he?”
“If the forged transfer remains provisionally valid through tomorrow, maybe.”
I looked at Nathan.
His shares were not truly his.
But corporate records still showed the transfer.
A judge would decide whether to freeze them at an emergency hearing Thursday morning.
The merger vote was scheduled for Thursday afternoon.
Everything depended on a few hours.
Then my father called.
His voice sounded wrong.
“Emma.”
“Dad?”
“I found Peter.”
I stood up.
“Where?”
“He called me.”
“Why?”
“He wants immunity.”
My pulse increased.
“For what?”
My father took a breath.
“For telling us who ordered the plane sabotage.”
I closed my eyes.
“Malcolm?”
“No.”
The room went silent.
May you like
My father spoke the next name slowly.
“Robert Vale.”
