Chapter 12 - The Safe-Deposit Box
The next morning, Daniel and Martin Shaw went to the bank with Detective Reed.
Box 317 required two keys.
Daniel had Margaret’s.
The bank had the second.
Inside the metal drawer were property deeds, old family letters, insurance documents, and a sealed red folder marked NORTHLINE / PHOENIX.
Martin opened it on the conference table.
The first document was a spreadsheet Margaret had printed from Mercer Development’s internal accounting system.
Twenty-three transfers.
Not three.
The total was $4.8 million.
Daniel stared at the number.
“That’s impossible.”
Martin shook his head. “Not if they spread it across subsidiaries.”
The transfers led to shell companies, consulting contracts, false vendors and real estate deposits.
Northline Holdings was only one piece.
The final beneficiary on several transactions was a Phoenix-based company registered to Caleb Ross.
Another series ended at a private investment account controlled by Simon Vale.
Olivia’s name appeared on six documents.
Simon’s appeared on fourteen.
Then Daniel found a page in his mother’s handwriting.
OLIVIA MAY HAVE STARTED AS A VICTIM. SHE IS NO LONGER ONLY A VICTIM.
Below it was a list of dates.
One date had been circled.
Eight weeks earlier.
Daniel remembered that night.
He had been in Denver for a board meeting.
Olivia had called to say Ethan had a fever.
According to the bank records, that same night she had approved a $390,000 transfer from Daniel’s father’s charitable foundation.
“She stole from the foundation,” Daniel whispered.
The foundation funded pediatric rehabilitation programs.
Martin said nothing.
There was no kind way to interpret it.
At the bottom of the folder lay a flash drive.
Reed plugged it into an evidence laptop.
A single audio file appeared.
Margaret’s voice filled the room.
“If you are hearing this, I may not have had the chance to explain everything. Daniel, I am sorry. I waited because I wanted proof before I broke your family apart.”
Daniel’s eyes burned.
The recording continued.
“There is one more person involved. Someone Simon reports to. I do not know the name yet, but I know the initials.”
Paper rustled.
“R.M.”
Daniel looked at Martin.
Martin had gone pale.
“What?” Daniel asked.
The attorney did not answer.
“Martin, who is R.M.?”
May you like
Martin slowly removed his glasses.
“Daniel… those were your father’s initials.”
