It rang once. Twice. The sound echoed off the high ceiling.
"Mr. Hayes," a crisp, professional voice answered through the speaker.
"Vance," Marcus said, his eyes locked onto Eleanor's terrified face. "Where are you?"
"I'm at the office, sir. Reviewing the quarterly filings."
"Stop what you're doing. Open the master ledger for the primary family trust." Marcus's voice was absolute steel. "I want you to pull the records for the year 1999."
I could hear the rapid clicking of a keyboard echoing through the phone's speaker.
"I'm in, sir," Vance said. "What am I looking for?"
"Go to October 14th, 1999," Marcus commanded. He didn't blink. He just watched Eleanor begin to hyperventilate. "Tell me exactly what you see."
Chapter 3: What the Truth Restores
The ballroom was trapped in suspended animation. Nobody moved. The waiters stood perfectly still with their silver trays. The wealthiest people in the city barely breathed, their eyes darting back and forth between the speakerphone in Marcus's hand and Eleanor’s crumbling face.
The clicking of Vance's keyboard over the speaker sounded louder than gunshots.
"I have the ledger for October 1999, Mr. Hayes," Vance’s crisp voice reported. "I'm looking at the fourteenth."
"Read the outgoing transactions," Marcus said, his voice entirely devoid of emotion.
"There's only one major transfer on that date, sir," Vance replied. "An outgoing wire transfer from the secondary account."
"The amount."
"Five hundred thousand dollars."
The crowd let out a collective, audible gasp. Eleanor let out a choked, desperate sob, covering her mouth with her trembling, diamond-covered hands.
"Who authorized it?" Marcus demanded, taking a slow step toward his wife.
The keyboard clicked again. "The signature authorization belongs to Eleanor Hayes, sir."