Chapter 13 - Uncle Malcolm
Malcolm arrived at the estate before Ethan could call him.
He walked into Robert's old office with the calm confidence of a man who had spent his life believing rooms belonged to him.
"You look terrible," he told Ethan.
"Did you finance Northbridge?"
Malcolm's smile disappeared.
"Who told you that?"
"Answer me."
Malcolm poured himself a drink.
"Twenty years ago, yes. It was supposed to handle tax planning."
"For Eleanor?"
"For Robert."
"And Preston Hale?"
"A lawyer who knew how to move money quietly."
Ethan slammed Catherine's investigator file onto the desk.
Malcolm stared at the photographs.
His face changed.
"Where did you get those?"
"You know what they are."
Malcolm sat down.
Then, for the first time, he looked old.
He admitted helping Robert hide financial losses after a failed expansion. Preston created shell companies. Eleanor managed the books. What began as accounting fraud turned into leverage.
"Eleanor learned where every secret was buried," Malcolm said. "After Catherine died, she owned Robert emotionally. After he died, she owned the board financially."
"Did you know she drugged him?"
"No."
"Did you know about Sarah?"
Malcolm looked away.
That was answer enough.
Ethan stepped toward him.
"What did you know?"
"Preston said Eleanor needed a medical file prepared in case Sarah became unstable during pregnancy. I thought it was legal protection."
Sarah, listening through speakerphone from the hospital, said, "You thought forging my signature was legal protection?"
Malcolm closed his eyes.
"I didn't know about the signature."
"You knew enough."
Then Malcolm gave them the most important thing he had.
A private safe-deposit key.
"Robert gave me this before he died. I was too afraid to open the box."
Ethan stared at him.
"Where?"
"First Texas Bank. Box 611."
Arthur picked up his coat.
Malcolm stopped him.
"There's something else."
May you like
His voice dropped.
"Eleanor isn't the only one who knows the box exists."
