Chapter 11 - BLACK VEIL|
The name Black Veil followed us back to Manhattan like a shadow.
Julian's attorney arranged for the recovered files to be examined by independent specialists. The work was conducted through formal procedures so the records could be authenticated and preserved. No one was permitted to alter the original drive, and every copy was documented.
The results revealed a structure far more complicated than a simple succession plan.
Victor Cross had created a network of holding companies that could transfer control of valuable assets when certain conditions were met. Some companies were legitimate businesses. Others appeared to have been used to conceal the movement of money and obscure beneficial ownership.
Black Veil was designed to trigger a series of transfers if Julian was killed, arrested, or declared unable to manage the business.
The problem was that the protocol contained an additional clause.
If the designated successor was considered compromised, the assets would be transferred to an emergency trustee.
The trustee's identity was hidden behind an encrypted authorization.
The access logs showed that someone had attempted to activate the protocol shortly after Julian's accident. The attempt had failed, but it had not been abandoned.
"Someone wanted to use my apparent disability to transfer control," Julian said during the briefing.
"Or to make it appear that way," his attorney cautioned. "We need to establish who submitted the request and whether the log is genuine."
I sat beside Margaret, studying the transaction chart.
"Could Arthur have done it?"
"He had the second key," Julian replied. "But he couldn't complete the transfer alone."
"Who has the third authorization?"
Julian stared at the screen.
"According to the original documents, my father."
"He's dead."
"That's what we've been told."
The room fell silent.
Margaret looked at her brother.
"Do you think Father could have survived?"
Julian shook his head.
"I saw his body."
"Did you identify him yourself?"
He didn't answer immediately.
"I was nineteen. I was told the body had been examined and identified. I attended the funeral."
"That isn't the same as knowing every detail."
Julian stood abruptly and walked to the window.
I understood why the possibility disturbed him. He had built his entire identity around being the heir to a dead man's empire. If Victor had been alive—or if someone had used his identity for years—then the foundation of Julian's power might have been built on a lie.
But I was thinking about my mother.
Someone had hidden her for seven years. Someone had threatened her into silence. Someone had continued paying for her confinement even after Victor's supposed death.
I wanted the people responsible to be found.
I didn't want another elaborate theory. I wanted verifiable answers.
"Can we trace the payments?" I asked.
The forensic specialist nodded.
"Several transfers originated from a trust account established shortly before Victor Cross died. The account has been administered through a succession of trustees. One of the recent instructions was signed electronically using credentials issued to Arthur Bell."
"Where did the money go?"
"Primarily to medical care, private transport, and property leases. But a portion went to a separate account connected to a company called Meridian Strategic."
Julian turned from the window.
"Meridian was one of my father's old competitors."
"According to the records, the company was dissolved years ago," the specialist said. "Its assets were transferred through a chain of subsidiaries."
Margaret leaned forward.
"Who owns the final subsidiary?"
The specialist brought up the corporate filing.
The name on the screen was Evelyn Cross Foundation.
Margaret stared.
"Our mother's foundation?"
Their mother had died when Julian was twelve. The foundation had supposedly been established to fund scholarships and medical assistance.
Julian's expression darkened.
"That foundation has been inactive for years."
"Not according to these records," the specialist replied. "Someone has been using its registration to receive payments."
I looked at Margaret.
"Who has access to the foundation's old documents?"
She seemed to struggle to speak.
"Arthur did. My mother appointed him as an administrative adviser before she died."
Julian called his attorney and ordered an independent review of the foundation's records. He also agreed to provide information to the relevant authorities rather than attempting to seize the accounts himself.
It was a significant change from the man who had once believed every problem could be solved by issuing an order.
That evening, I visited my mother in the hospital. She was stronger and had begun eating more regularly. She asked about the mansion, and I told her that Julian was helping investigate the people who had kept her hidden.
"Be careful," she warned. "Julian may be trying to do the right thing now, but he grew up in a world where people confuse obedience with love."
"I know."
She squeezed my hand.
"And don't let him make you responsible for saving him."
I promised her I wouldn't.
When I returned to the mansion, Julian was waiting in the library with a folder.
"We found something else," he said.
Inside was an old photograph of Victor Cross standing outside a private clinic. Beside him was a woman I didn't recognize. A younger Arthur Bell stood behind them, holding a briefcase.
On the back, someone had written:
The emergency trustee must remain anonymous until the Black Veil trigger is complete.
Below that sentence was a name.
Not Victor's.
Not Arthur's.
It was Margaret Cross.
My stomach dropped.
Julian looked at his sister.
"Did you know?"
Margaret's face drained of color.
"No."
May you like
But the photograph showed her standing in the background of a second image, watching the same meeting.
And in her hand was a key identical to the one my father had left me.
