Chapter 18 - The Witness Who Lied
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Elias Voss had survived the attack, but the new footage changed his position in the investigation.
Rebecca arranged a formal interview with him under federal supervision. Vincent and I were allowed to watch from another room, separated by a one-way window.
Elias looked smaller than I remembered from the photograph. His hair had thinned, his shoulders had collapsed inward, and his hands trembled when the agent placed the restored still frame on the table.
“Do you recognize this image?” the agent asked.
Elias stared at it.
“Yes.”
“Is that you?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you enter the office after Victor Sloane left?”
Elias swallowed.
“I was supposed to retrieve the records.”
“On whose instructions?”
He looked down.
“Vincent's father.”
Vincent went rigid beside me.
The agent continued.
“What records?”
“The original financial ledger. The contracts. The documents showing where the money had gone.”
“Why did Vincent's father ask you to retrieve them?”
“Because he wanted to give them to the authorities. He thought if I removed the copies from the office, Victor would have no reason to return.”
“Did you deliver them to the authorities?”
Elias shook his head.
“No.”
“Where did you take them?”
“I hid them.”
“Why?”
Elias's eyes filled with tears.
“Because I was afraid.”
The agent waited.
Elias continued.
“Victor had threatened my family. He said if I cooperated, he would make sure my children lost everything. I told myself I could keep the records safe until it was over.”
“Did you know Victor intended to kill Vincent's father?”
“I knew he had threatened him. I knew he had hired men to frighten him. I did not know he would go that far.”
“Did you know Claire Pell's father had been targeted?”
Elias closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
I felt the room tilt.
The agent's voice remained even.
“Why did you not warn him?”
“Because Victor told me he had already arranged it. He said if I interfered, my family would be next.”
I gripped the edge of the table.
My father had died because Elias had been afraid.
Not because he had ordered the killing. Not because he had held the weapon. But because he had chosen his own safety over the chance to save another man.
The agent placed another document before him.
“Did you provide Luca Moretti with the original ledger?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know he intended to destroy it?”
“I suspected.”
“Did you help him conceal the financial transfers?”
“Yes.”
“Did you assist in arranging the kidnapping of Noah Moretti?”
“No. I had nothing to do with that.”
The agent studied him.
“Did you know about the shooting at Claire Pell's apartment?”
“No.”
“Did you attempt to contact Claire after the attack?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I realized Victor and Luca were trying to destroy the evidence. I thought Claire might have the bracelet.”
The interview continued for another hour.
When it ended, Rebecca joined us in the observation room.
“Elias has admitted to concealing evidence and assisting with the financial scheme. His testimony could be valuable, but he is not an innocent bystander.”
Vincent stared through the glass.
“He let my father die.”
“He did,” Rebecca said. “And he let Claire's father die. The prosecution will have to consider the full extent of his conduct.”
I thought of my mother's letter, the words she had written about courage and evidence.
Elias had preserved the truth.
But he had preserved it for himself, not for the people who had died.
“Where are the records now?” I asked.
Rebecca looked at me.
“He claims he hid them in a private storage unit before Luca found him. He has given the agents the location.”
“Then we need to search it.”
“We will.”
The search took place the following morning. Inside the unit, the agents found a metal case containing original contracts, handwritten notes, and a list of payments to private security contractors. One document bore Victor Sloane's signature beside a payment authorization dated two days before my father's death.
Another showed a transfer from a company controlled by Luca to a contractor later connected to the kidnapping.
The evidence was not perfect, but it formed a chain.
Rebecca explained that the investigators now had enough to seek additional warrants and question Victor under oath. They were also reviewing whether Vincent's companies had knowingly benefited from the scheme.
Vincent listened without interrupting.
When the meeting ended, he turned to me.
“I used to think being loyal meant standing beside someone no matter what they did.”
“And now?”
“Now I think loyalty without honesty is just fear wearing a respectable name.”
I looked at him.
“That sounds like something your mother would have said.”
He smiled faintly.
“She probably did.”
For a moment, I felt the old tenderness between us, fragile but real.
Then my phone rang.
The competition director was calling.
The exhibition had been moved to the following evening, and my collection would be featured in the main hall. The organizers wanted me to speak about the inspiration behind the designs.
I agreed.
I needed one night that belonged to me.
But as I hung up, Rebecca's phone vibrated.
She read the message and went pale.
“Victor's lawyers have filed an emergency motion to suppress the financial records,” she said. “They're claiming the evidence was illegally obtained and that the investigation has been contaminated by Vincent's involvement.”
Vincent stood.
“Can they stop the case?”
“They can delay it. They can make it harder. And if they convince a judge that the chain of custody is compromised, they could weaken the prosecution.”
I looked at the documents spread across the table.
“Then we need something Victor can't explain away.”
Rebecca nodded.
“The investigators believe the final proof may be in the original payment archive.”
“Where is it?”
She hesitated.
“The archive is held by a private company. Its owner has refused to cooperate.”
Vincent's face darkened.
“Who owns it?”
Rebecca turned the laptop toward us.
The company was registered under a name I had never seen before.
May you like
But the controlling trust belonged to a woman whose name I knew very well.
Sophia Reynolds.
