Chapter 5 - Shadows in the Vault
While the criminal case against Daniel and Vivian moved toward its inevitable conclusion, a far more dangerous battle was brewing beneath the surface of the city's financial elite.
Richard Sterling was not a man who went down quietly. Although he had abandoned Daniel to save his own firm, Richard realized that if the federal investigation into Vance Capital LLC expanded, it would inevitably uncover the illegal offshore accounts Richard’s firm had used to launder political kickbacks for over a decade.
At 11:00 PM, inside the dimly lit penthouse office of Sterling & Partners, Richard sat behind his massive mahogany desk, pouring himself a double glass of scotch. Across from him sat an imposing man in a dark tactical jacket—Viktor Vance (no relation to Daniel), a high-end private operative who specialized in "resolving" high-stakes corporate liabilities.
"She’s too dangerous, Viktor," Richard said, his voice low and raspy. "Evelyn Cross isn't just trying to put Daniel in prison. She’s executing a full audit of every transaction handled by our firm over the last seven years. The federal marshals are responding to her subpoenas, not the DA’s."
Viktor pulled a pair of leather gloves from his pocket, pulling them tightly over his fingers. "She has a round-the-clock police detail outside her residence."
"Police details are public record," Richard spat, pulling a key card from his desk drawer. "She’s staying at her late father’s private estate in the hills to avoid the press. The police guard consists of two uniform officers parked at the front gate. The back property borders a private nature reserve."
Viktor smiled thinly. "What do you want recovered?"
"Her primary server," Richard said, sliding a silver flash drive across the desk. "And the original paper ledgers kept in her father's private wall safe. Once you have the files, erase the source."
"And the woman?" Viktor asked quietly.
Richard took a slow sip of his scotch, his eyes turning stone-cold. "She’s a burn victim living in isolation. Tragic accidents happen to traumatized people all the time, Viktor. Make sure it looks like a suicide induced by severe depression."
An hour later, a heavy fog rolled across the wooded hills surrounding the Cross Estate.
At the front perimeter gate, a marked police cruiser sat idling under a streetlamp, its two officers sipping coffee, oblivious to the shadowy figure slipping quietly through the dense pine trees along the eastern property line.
Viktor moved like a phantom across the damp grass, bypassing the infrared motion sensors with a signal-jamming device attached to his belt. He reached the rear glass doors of the library, pulled out a specialized glass-cutting tool, and cleanly cut a six-inch circle near the lock.
With a soft click, the rear door swung open.
Viktor stepped into the dark library, pulling a silenced 9mm pistol from his shoulder holster. The room was dead quiet, filled only with the faint ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner.
He glided toward the massive oak desk, aiming his tactical flashlight at the laptop resting on the blotter. He pulled out a high-speed data extraction drive, reaching for the laptop’s USB port.
"You're using an outdated extraction protocol, Mr. Vance," a calm, clear voice spoke from the darkness behind him.
Viktor spun around instantly, raising his pistol toward the high-backed armchair by the fireplace.
The lights in the library suddenly flashed on, blinding him for a split second.
Standing near the doorway was Detective Marcus Vance, flanked by four armed SWAT officers with tactical rifles aimed directly at Viktor’s chest.
"Drop the weapon! Now!" Detective Vance bellowed.
Viktor froze, his gun hand hovering in mid-air. He looked toward the armchair by the hearth.
I sat in the chair, dressed in a black silk robe, holding a warm cup of tea. Beside my chair stood Lena, holding a digital control pad that was broadcasting a live feed of the library directly to the District Attorney's emergency server.
"Richard Sterling is remarkably predictable," I said, taking a slow sip of my tea. "He used the exact same private operative to break into the State Auditor’s office four years ago during the DiMarco investigation. Did you really think I wouldn't monitor Richard's private communications?"
Viktor slowly lowered his gun, dropping it onto the Persian rug before raising his hands above his head.
"Check his jacket pocket," I told Detective Vance. "He has an encrypted satellite phone. Richard Sterling is currently sitting in his penthouse office waiting for a confirmation signal."
Detective Vance stepped forward, kicking Viktor’s gun away, while another officer shoved the operative against the desk and pulled the satellite phone from his pocket.
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Vance looked at me, a fierce grin spreading across his face. "Want to give Richard a call, Evelyn?"
"No," I replied, setting my teacup down on the side table with a soft clink. "I want you to execute the federal arrest warrant for attempted murder-for-hire, racketeering, and obstruction of justice at his office right now. And make sure the press cameras are waiting on the sidewalk when you bring him out in chains."
