Chapter 7: What Eleanor Did Next
By nine o'clock the following morning, Philip Warde's solicitor had already contacted the police.
Not to cooperate.
To obstruct.
Sam heard about it from Detective Marsh, who called while Sam was sitting in a hotel room two miles from the estate, Eli asleep in the next bed, the folder on the desk beside an untouched cup of coffee.
"His legal team is claiming the note is inadmissible," Marsh said.
"They're arguing chain of custody — the item was held privately for thirty years, no official record of its preservation.
They'll push hard on that."
"And Roy's testimony?"
"Stronger.
An eyewitness account is harder to dismiss than a physical object.
But Warde's people will go after his credibility.
His immigration status at the time, the delay in coming forward." Marsh paused.
"Mr.
Okafor, I want to be honest with you.
This is not going to be fast.
And it is not going to be easy."
"I know," Sam said.
"What I can tell you is that the insurance fraud element is cleaner.
The documentation Lila Hargrove provided is solid.
The settlement was filed under false pretenses — the named beneficiary's legal next of kin was alive and was deliberately excluded.
That's a matter of civil record.
We can pursue that independently of the arson question."
"I don't want the money," Sam said.
"I want the truth on record.
I want it stated, officially, that my wife d!ed because someone decided she was inconvenient.
And I want the man who made that decision to answer for it."
Marsh was quiet for a moment.
"I understand," he said.
"We'll do what we can."
Sam set the phone down.
Eli was standing in the doorway of the adjoining room.
He had been awake for a while.
His hair was flattened on one side from the pillow.
"Is it going to work?" he asked.
"I don't know yet."
Eli came and sat on the edge of the bed nearest Sam's chair.
He pulled his knees up.
"I keep thinking about something," he said.
"Eleanor said she loved me.
And I think she might have meant it." He looked at his hands.
"Is it possible to love someone and still do terrible things to them?"
Sam looked at his son for a long moment.
"Yes," he said.
"People do it all the time.
Love doesn't make a person good.
It just makes what they do feel more justified to them."
Eli thought about that.
"That's a sad answer."
"It's an honest one."
A knock at the hotel room door.
Sam opened it.
Lila stood in the hallway, coat still on, a leather briefcase under one arm.
She looked like she had not slept.
"Eleanor called me this morning," she said.
"Early.
Before seven."
Sam stepped back to let her in.
"She wants to make a statement," Lila said.
"Voluntary.
To the police.
She's willing to confirm the insurance fraud, her role in concealing Eli's parentage, and her knowledge that Gerald sent Philip Warde to the kitchen that night." She set the briefcase on the desk.
"She says she won't protect Warde.
And she says she wants to establish, on record, that she does not believe Gerald intended the fire to happen.
She thinks Warde acted beyond what he was instructed to do."
"Does she have evidence of that?" Sam asked.
"She has letters.
From Gerald, written to her in the months after the fire.
She kept them." Lila paused.
"In them, he expresses — not guilt exactly, but something close to it.
He writes that things went further than he wanted.
He doesn't name Warde.
But the implication is clear enough that a prosecutor could work with it."
"She kept letters like that for thirty years," Sam said.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Lila looked at him.
"I think she always knew this day might come," she said.
"And I think part of her wanted it to."
Eli had been listening from the bed.
"Is she going to be in trouble?" he asked.
"Eleanor?"
"Yes," Lila said.
"Almost certainly.
The fraud charge alone carries serious consequences.
Her lawyers will negotiate, but she won't walk away from this without consequence."
Eli nodded slowly.
"Okay," he said.
He didn't say anything else.
Sam looked at Lila.
"What do you need from me?"
"Your formal statement.
Today, if possible.
And—" She hesitated.
"There's a reporter.
Investigative journalist.
She's been looking into the Hargrove family for two years, completely separately.
She contacted me last night.
She already has some of this story.
If she publishes before the police have completed their process, Warde's team will use it to claim the investigation is compromised."
"Can you hold her off?"
"For a few days.
Maybe a week." Lila looked at him steadily.
"Sam, once this becomes public — and it will become public — your life changes.
Eli's life changes.
I need you to be prepared for that."
Sam looked at his son.
Eli met his eyes.
"I'm already prepared," the boy said.
"I've been prepared since last night."
Sam turned back to Lila.
"Let's go give the statement," he said.
He picked up his jacket from the chair.
Paused.
On the desk, next to the folder, was the photograph Lila had given him the night before.
Clara, laughing outside the kitchen entrance.
Sam, mid-turn, looking at her.
He picked it up.
Folded it carefully.
Put it in his inside pocket.
Then he opened the door.
Lila's phone rang as they stepped into the hallway.
She answered it, listened for three seconds, and stopped walking.
"Say that again," she said.
She listened again.
Her face went very still.
"When?" she said.
She ended the call.
Turned to Sam.
"Philip Warde's solicitor just filed an emergency injunction," she said.
"He's trying to block the police from accessing the estate's historical financial records.
If the court grants it—"
"Can they grant it?"
"They can try." Her jaw tightened.
"And there's something else.
Warde's team just issued a statement to the press.
They got there before us." She looked at her phone screen and read aloud: "'Mr.
Warde categorically denies any involvement in the events of 1993.
He notes that the individuals making these allegations have a clear financial motive, and that the so-called evidence consists of items held outside any chain of legal custody for over three decades.
Mr.
Warde intends to pursue defamation claims against all parties involved.'"
Sam read the statement over her shoulder.
"He's going on offence," Sam said.
"Yes," Lila said.
"Which means we need to move faster than we planned."
Eli had been reading the statement too.
He looked up.
"He's going to try to make it about the money," the boy said.
"Make it look like we're doing this for the inheritance."
"Yes," Lila said.
Eli thought for a moment.
"Then we need someone who has no financial connection to any of this," he said.
"Someone who can't be accused of having a motive." He looked at Lila.
"Roy Hess.
He never asked for anything.
He came forward because it was right." He paused.
"If he's willing to speak publicly — before the injunction is decided — it changes the story."
Lila looked at the boy for a moment.
May you like
"You're right," she said.
She was already dialing.
