Part 5
“And the others?”
Mara stared at the plate.
“I recorded Mrs. Vale.”
Celeste crossed her arms. “Without consent.”
“New York permits one-party consent,” Graham said.
Adrian looked at him.
Graham added, “Generally. Counsel should evaluate the context.”
Celeste’s smile returned in a thinner form. “Thank you for the legal lecture.”
Adrian held out his hand to Mara.
“May I see the phone?”
She kept it in her uniform pocket.
“I need to know what happens to the recordings.”
“They’re copied, preserved, and reviewed by counsel.”
“Whose counsel?”
“Mine, initially.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
Adrian lowered his hand.
The answer unsettled him because it was reasonable.
Mara finally took a piece of bread from the plate. She tore it in half but did not lift it to her mouth.
“I don’t know you,” she said. “I know your father was afraid you would sell the company. I know Mrs. Vale said you only came home when the board threatened your position. I know Mr. Pike brought documents and didn’t stay to see who signed them.”
Graham looked down.
Mara continued, more steadily.
“I know everyone here has a reason to make me useful and then call me unreliable.”
Adrian sat back.
She had been frightened and apologizing ten minutes earlier. Now that someone had asked for evidence, the caution beneath her fear had become visible.
It looked less like hope than judgment.
“What do you want?” Adrian asked.
“To get your father evaluated by someone Mrs. Vale cannot fire.”
“That can happen.”
“I want the agency told the truth before she tells them I was negligent.”
“That can happen.”
“I want copies of anything I give you.”
“Yes.”
“And I don’t want to be alone with her again.”
Celeste laughed. “You won’t be employed here again.”
Adrian looked at her.
“You no longer control staffing.”
The fear returned to Celeste’s face.
This time it stayed.
Dr. Helen Harrow arrived forty minutes later with a rehabilitation specialist and a quiet determination not to participate in family theater. She was a pale, red-haired woman in her fifties who had treated Harold since the stroke. She listened to Adrian’s summary in the foyer, then stopped him when he began describing the financial documents.
“I assess cognition and recovery,” she said. “I do not decide who stole what.”
“No one has used that word.”
“You have all used it without saying it.”
She turned to Mara.
“Were you the nurse who called my office Monday?”
Mara nodded.
“You were disconnected.”
“Mrs. Vale took the phone.”
Celeste stood near the windows, her arms folded. “Harold was resting.”
Dr. Harrow did not respond.
She went upstairs with the specialist. Adrian permitted Celeste to follow but asked Graham to remain outside the bedroom door. Mara stayed in the foyer, eating slowly now, while Adrian stood at the windows and answered calls from the family office.
The account freeze had revealed immediate problems. Celeste held authorized access to six household accounts, two family trusts, three corporate cards, and a managed investment account funded with Vale Group shares. None belonged to her personally in the ordinary sense, but her name appeared on each authorization.
In the last fourteen months, more than four million dollars had moved through an entity called Cresset Residential Holdings.
Adrian had never heard of it.
Graham searched the tablet.
“Registered to Celeste.”
“Purpose?”
“Property acquisition.”
“Which property?”
“A townhouse on East Seventy-Third.”
Adrian looked toward the staircase.
Celeste had once mentioned admiring a restored townhouse near Central Park. He had assumed it was conversation.
“Purchased?”
“Under contract. Closing next week.”
“With whose money?”
“Funds transferred from the family residence account.”
“Why didn’t the family office flag it?”
“Harold’s standing instruction permitted her to make housing expenditures.”
“Four million dollars?”
“The cap was removed in September.”
Adrian looked at Graham.
“The same documents you filed.”
“Yes.”
Mara placed the plate on the bench.
“Mrs. Vale said the townhouse was for Mr. Vale.”
Both men turned toward her.
“When?” Adrian asked.
“Last month. She told the physical therapist they were moving because this place was unsafe.”
“Why wasn’t I informed?”
“She said you approved it.”
Graham’s expression hardened.
“I approved no relocation.”
Mara looked at him. “She used your name often.”
“For what?”
“Canceling appointments. Changing staff. Telling the building not to let certain people upstairs.”
Graham began making notes.
Adrian watched him.
“How much of this did you know?”
Graham stopped.
“I knew she requested increased discretion.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“I knew your father’s schedule had narrowed.”
“You knew Dr. Harrow couldn’t get access.”
“I learned today.”
“You knew the therapist was being turned away?”
“No.”
“You knew the accounts changed.”
“Yes.”
“You knew the documents were signed without witnesses.”
“Yes.”
Graham’s answers became flatter with each admission.
Adrian went to the console table and picked up his gloves, then set them down again. He needed something to do with his hands. That irritated him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were in London negotiating the merger.”
“I had a phone.”
“You told me not to bring you family complaints unless they threatened the company.”
Mara looked from one man to the other.
Adrian remembered the instruction.
He had given it after Celeste called during a financing meeting to complain that Harold’s new driver parked too close to the elevator. Adrian had said, Unless someone is dead or the company is threatened, keep family noise off my calendar.
The sentence had seemed efficient at the time.
“Did you consider his capacity a family complaint?” Adrian asked.
“I considered it medically supervised.”
“Did you verify that?”
“No.”
“Then you considered it inconvenient.”
Graham held his gaze.
“Yes.”
The admission carried no defense.
It did not make Adrian less angry.
Dr. Harrow came downstairs after nearly an hour. Celeste followed with her cream blouse untucked slightly at one side. The imperfection made her look more frightened than tears would have.
The doctor stopped beside Adrian.
“Your father needs evaluation in a controlled setting.”
May you like
“Hospital?”
“Rehabilitation unit, assuming immediate tests show no acute issue. His medication record has inconsistencies. He appears dehydrated. His alertness improved after we gave him time and water.”
