Chapter 8 - Two Hundred and Forty Million
Graham read the amount.
“Two hundred and forty million dollars. That fund supports employees who were injured, laid off, or left without insurance.”
“Not anymore,” Elise said. “Victor has been draining it through shell companies. Tomorrow’s transfer will empty what remains.”
Lucy turned pages. “My father traced the first transfers. He found payments to a fake consulting firm, then to a private trust, then to accounts in three countries.”
Graham’s stomach tightened. “How long?”
“Eleven years,” Elise said. “Maybe longer.”
He thought of the company’s annual reports. The glowing headlines. The speeches about loyalty. The employee town halls where he had promised no one would be left behind.
“How much?”
“More than six hundred million.”
He sat down.
Lucy watched him. “You didn’t know.”
“I should have.”
“Those aren’t the same thing.”
Graham looked up. She was not comforting him. She was giving him a chance to face the truth without hiding behind shame.
He called his general counsel, but Elise stopped him.
“Not your lawyer. Victor hired half the legal department.”
“Then who?”
“Someone outside the company. Someone who can freeze the transfer before it leaves.”
Lucy named a former federal prosecutor, Nina Patel, who now handled financial fraud cases. She had helped Daniel before his death.
Nina listened without interruption. Then she asked one question.
“Do you have the original ledger?”
“Yes.”
“Do not photograph it. Do not email it. Do not put it on a company network. I’m sending a secure team. And Mr. Whitmore? If Victor knows you have that book, you have less than twenty-four hours.”
A car slowed outside the house.
Elise looked through the curtain.
A black SUV rolled past the mailbox, then stopped at the end of the lane.
Lucy stood.
“That’s not local.”
The SUV’s passenger door opened.
A man stepped out holding a phone.
Then Graham’s own phone rang.
May you like
Victor.
“Good morning,” his partner said pleasantly. “I hear you’ve been visiting old friends.”
