Chapter 29 - The Mechanics of Murder
"Who had access to the Colorado maintenance accounts in 2022?" I asked, the moment I walked into the secure legal war room on the penthouse level of Sterling Tower.
Elena and Frank both looked up from the conference table, where dozens of court documents and financial disclosures were still spread out.
"Victoria, you're supposed to be on bed rest," Elena started, rising to her feet with genuine concern. "Dr. Reynolds called my cell ten minutes ago—"
"Who had signing authority on the Aspen charter accounts, Elena?" I demanded, my voice cutting through the room with a cold, vibrating intensity that made Frank instantly stand at attention.
Elena swallowed, sensing immediately that something catastrophic had shifted. She pulled up the historical corporate ledgers on her terminal.
"In 2022, before the merger... all aviation operations were overseen by the Executive Logistics Committee," Elena said, her eyes scanning the archived organizational charts. "The signing authority was held jointly by the CEO... and the senior vice president of asset management."
"Arthur Davies," Frank murmured, his eyes narrowing.
"Arthur Davies," I repeated, the name tasting like ash in my mouth.
Arthur Davies was my father’s oldest friend. He had been at my christening. He had cried openly at Alexander’s funeral, standing beside me at the graveside, holding an umbrella over my head while the rain fell on the casket. He had been the one who voted first to remove Jonathan last night.
"Look at this," I said, laying my phone on the table.
Elena leaned over, studying the encrypted flight log and the transaction code beneath it. Her eyes widened in genuine disbelief.
"That’s an internal transfer account," Elena whispered, tapping her screen frantically to match the alphanumeric string. "Transfer code 88-Delta. That wasn't an offshore Vance account. That was... that was an internal Sterling operational account."
"Arthur authorized the fuel de-icing bypass," Frank said, his voice dropping into a deadly register as he examined the mechanic's certification. "The mechanic was paid sixty thousand dollars out of the Aspen contingency fund. Three days later, Alexander’s Gulfstream suffered complete dual-engine flameout at twenty-four thousand feet due to ice accumulation in the fuel manifolds."
The pieces fell into place with sickening, terrifying precision.
Jonathan and Eleanor Vance had been greedy opportunists, parasites who saw an opening and moved in to exploit a grieving widow. But they hadn't created the void.
Arthur Davies had.
Arthur had murdered Alexander to create the crisis, knowing that without Alexander, Sterling Global would be forced into an emergency restructuring that would allow him to consolidate institutional control. But when I married Jonathan, Arthur’s plans had been delayed. He had bided his time, watching the Vance family self-destruct, waiting for the exact moment when both Victoria and the Vances would be eliminated from the board.
"He’s in the building right now," Elena whispered, her face pale as she checked the executive floor security logs. "He called an informal meeting of the audit committee on the forty-second floor for twelve-thirty. He’s preparing the interim budget."
"He thinks he won," I said, feeling a cold, crystalline calm wash over me. The exhaustion, the physical pain, the terror of the last four days—all of it vanished, burned away by the singular, absolute necessity of justice.
"Frank," I said. "Lock the elevators to the forty-second floor. Call the Manhattan District Attorney’s Homicide Bureau. Tell them I have the final piece of the 2022 Aspen crash."
"Victoria, wait," Elena pleaded, stepping around the table. "You can’t go down there alone. If he knows he’s trapped—"
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"He isn't trapped yet," I said, turning toward the private executive staircase. "He thinks he’s still my father’s best friend."
***
