Chapter 8: Everything on the Table
Marcus arrived at seven the following morning with two colleagues from the financial crimes unit — not uniformed, not announced, arriving in an ordinary car through the front gate as though they were simply lawyers coming for a meeting.
Which, officially, they were.
Chadworth met them in the entrance hall.
Darvell stood to one side with a document case and a portable hard drive containing seventy-two hours of audio and video recordings, the complete financial transaction log, the handwriting analysis confirming Aldric Mourne as the author of the note, and the phone records showing eighteen months of coordinated contact between Sabina, Mourne, and the custody lawyer Petra Voss.
Sabina came downstairs at half past seven in a cream blouse and tailored trousers, expecting breakfast.
She stopped on the third step from the bottom when she saw the people in the entrance hall.
Her eyes moved from face to face.
Settled on Marcus.
Moved to the two men she didn't recognize.
Moved to Darvell and the document case.
Then moved to Chadworth.
"What is this?" she said.
"Come and sit down," Chadworth said.
"I'd like to know who these people are first."
"They're here on a legal matter.
Please come and sit down."
She descended the last three steps with the careful composure of someone buying time to think.
She sat in the sitting room.
Chadworth sat across from her.
Marcus and the two colleagues positioned themselves near the door without being asked.
"I'm going to tell you what I know," Chadworth said.
"And then I'm going to give you a chance to respond."
Sabina folded her hands in her lap.
"All right."
"You were introduced to Aldric Mourne's operation approximately twenty months ago.
You were recruited — and paid — to establish a relationship with me.
The goal was to gain co-trustee status over my estate and my daughters' inheritance, and to restructure custody arrangements in a way that would give Mourne's financial interests leverage over Prescott Holdings." He paused.
"You were also instructed to remove Rosamund from this household so that my daughters would have no reliable witness to what was happening."
Sabina's expression did not change.
"That's quite an accusation," she said.
"It's not an accusation.
It's a summary of documented evidence." Chadworth nodded to Darvell, who opened the document case and set a stack of printed pages on the coffee table between them.
"Phone records.
Financial transactions.
A handwritten note recovered from this house.
A recording of your call to Mourne two days ago in which you discussed accelerating the trust signing."
Sabina looked at the pages.
She didn't touch them.
"I'd like to call my solicitor," she said.
"You're welcome to.
But before you do — " Chadworth leaned forward slightly.
"I want to ask you one question."
She looked at him.
"The girls," he said.
"Were they ever anything to you?
Or were they only ever the obstacle the note described?"
Something moved across Sabina's face.
It was brief and complicated and he couldn't name it precisely.
Then it was gone.
"Call your solicitor," Marcus said from the doorway.
"We'll wait."
She stood.
Her posture was still perfect.
Her voice, when she spoke, was still controlled.
"You have no idea what Aldric Mourne is capable of," she said quietly.
"You think this is over because you have documents and recordings.
It isn't." She looked at Chadworth directly.
"He will not accept this."
"I know," Chadworth said.
"That's why the financial crimes unit has been building a case against him for the past four days.
The warrant for his offices was executed this morning."
For the first time, Sabina's composure cracked.
It wasn't dramatic.
It was just — a stillness.
A single moment where the calculation behind her eyes stopped moving.
"His accounts are frozen," Chadworth continued.
"His access to Velloran's assets is suspended pending investigation.
Petra Voss's firm has been notified of the conflict of interest in her engagement." He paused.
"There is no one left to call, Sabina.
Mourne can't help you.
He's dealing with his own situation."
She stood very still.
"You should have just trusted me," she said.
And for one strange moment, she almost sounded as though she meant it.
"No," Chadworth said.
"I should have trusted my daughters."
She looked at him for a long moment.
Then she turned and walked toward the hallway.
"Miss Voss," Marcus said clearly, "there are formal interviews required as part of the financial crimes investigation.
You'll be contacted with the details.
Please don't leave the country."
She stopped walking.
Her back was to the room.
"I know," she said.
Then she walked upstairs to pack her things.
The sitting room was very quiet.
Darvell began collecting the documents from the coffee table.
Marcus made a call in a low voice near the window.
The two financial crimes colleagues stepped into the hallway.
Chadworth sat in the empty room for a moment.
From upstairs, he could hear the girls' voices — Lorelai reading something aloud, Gemma making a sound of disagreement about whatever was being read.
The ordinary sound of two children starting their morning.
Rosamund appeared in the doorway.
She looked at the room.
At the empty chair across from Chadworth.
At the document case.
"Is it done?" she asked.
"Nearly," he said.
She nodded once.
"The girls want to know if you'll have breakfast with them."
Chadworth stood up.
May you like
"Yes," he said.
"Tell them I'll be right there."
