Chapter 10 - The Midnight Arrest Warrant
The heavy thud of the receiver hitting its cradle seemed to echo off the high vaulted ceilings of the foyer.
Clara stepped forward, her hand instinctively resting on her lower back as a dull contraction rippled through her abdomen. "What was that, Camilla? Who was on the phone?"
"That," Camilla said, walking slowly back toward them with an expression of grim satisfaction, "was the warden of the federal detention center. Gabriel just tried to trade the decryption keys to his second offshore account in exchange for a transfer to a minimum-security facility."
Violet looked up, clutching her stuffed rabbit. "Is Daddy in big trouble?"
"He's in the kind of trouble no amount of money can buy his way out of, sweetheart," Camilla replied softly, kneeling down to look Violet in the eye before turning her gaze back to Clara. "Because while Gabriel was trying to cut a deal, the federal marshals executed a search warrant on his primary safety deposit box at the downtown bank."
Clara’s heart pounded against her ribs. "What did they find?"
"They found the missing corporate ledgers from nineteen-seventy-five—the ones Arthur Vance and Gabriel’s grandfather used to frame your late great-aunt Beatrice and steal this very estate," Camilla said, a fierce triumph ringing in her voice. "And more importantly, they found a signed confession from Gabriel's own father detailing how they deliberately orchestrated your husband's marriage to you as part of a long-term corporate asset grab."
A sharp, stabbing pain suddenly gripped Clara’s lower abdomen, far more intense than the previous contractions. She let out a sharp gasp, her knees buckling slightly as she grabbed the edge of the mahogany foyer table for support.
"Clara!" Camilla cried out, dropping her umbrella as she rushed forward to steady her.
"Mommy!" Violet cried, tears springing to her eyes as she clung to Clara's coat.
"Mrs. Hudson!" Camilla yelled toward the interior hallway, her voice echoing with urgent command. "Call emergency medical services immediately! The baby's coming!"
As Mrs. Hudson raced toward the telephone, the front oak doors suddenly swung open, letting in the cool rush of midnight air. Federal Agent Vance stepped back into the entryway, accompanied by two emergency medical technicians wheeling a gurney through the double doors.
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Clara squeezed her eyes shut against the wave of pain, her fingers digging into Camilla's arm. As they lifted her onto the gurney, she looked up past the swirling lights of the medical equipment, locking her eyes on the grand portrait of Aunt Beatrice hanging above the staircase.
The painted eyes seemed to look down at her with a knowing, triumphant smile—as if passing the torch to the next generation.
