Chapter 4 - The Boardroom in the Library
The library of the Harrison estate was lined with floor-to-ceiling English walnut bookshelves, housing rare first editions collected over three generations. At the center sat a massive leather-topped partner's desk.
Sitting in the wingback chairs were Arthur Vance and Detective Marcus Brody of the Cook County State's Attorney's Special Prosecutions Bureau.
Julian Sterling stepped into the room, his eyes darting frantically between the three men. The leather satchel in his right hand felt suddenly heavy.
"Sit down, Julian," Daniel said, taking the seat behind the desk.
"Daniel, this is completely out of line," Sterling said, his voice rising, trying to adopt the condescending clinical authority he used in his North Michigan Avenue clinic. "I am Emma’s treating physician. If you are having a marital dispute with Rebecca, that is your business, but interfering with my medical access to a pediatric patient is a direct violation of—"
"Shut your mouth," Arthur Vance said. The veteran attorney didn't raise his voice, but the venom in it made Sterling stop mid-sentence.
Arthur dropped a thick manila folder onto the center of the desk.
"This is an emergency preservation subpoena issued thirty minutes ago by Chief Judge Morrison of the Circuit Court of Cook County," Arthur said. "It demands the immediate surrender of all clinical records, prescription logs, and billing files concerning Emma Harrison."
Sterling swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing above his silk tie. "My records are fully compliant with HIPAA. I have nothing to hide. Emma was suffering from severe separation anxiety and disruptive mood dysregulation—"
"Is that why you prescribed five milligrams of liquid Clonazepam under the name of Rebecca’s fictitious cousin in Indiana?" Detective Brody asked, leaning forward, resting his forearms on the table. Brody pulled an evidence bag from his coat pocket. Inside was an amber glass pharmaceutical bottle retrieved from the kitchen pantry ten minutes earlier by Mrs. Higgins.
Sterling’s eyes dilated.
"The pharmacy in South Bend has already cooperated with the state police," Brody continued with dry, terrifying efficiency. "The pharmacist identified your signature on the electronic script. He also provided the surveillance footage of your office manager picking up the thirty-day supply every first Monday of the month for the last fourteen months."
Sterling took a half-step back toward the door, but a Vanguard security officer was already leaning against the mahogany frame, arms folded across his chest.
"You're done, Julian," Daniel said softly.
He leaned across the desk, his dark eyes locking onto the trembling doctor.
"Your medical license will be revoked by the Illinois State Board before the markets open tomorrow morning," Daniel said. "You will be arraigned on felony distribution of controlled substances to a minor, healthcare fraud, and child endangerment. You are looking at a mandatory minimum of twelve to fifteen years in the state penitentiary at Statesville."
Sterling’s legs gave out. He sank into the nearest leather armchair, his expensive satchel dropping to the Persian rug with a dull thwack.
"It wasn't my idea," Sterling whispered, his voice cracking into a high, pathetic whine. "It was Rebecca. And my father."
Daniel felt an icy wave wash over his skin, but his expression never flickered. "Explain."
"My father... Richard... he was furious when you won the bidding for the logistics hub last year," Sterling stammered, pulling at his collar with trembling fingers. "He lost forty million dollars on that parcel. He found out Rebecca was dissatisfied with her prenuptial agreement. She wanted a lump-sum settlement of fifty million, but your agreement with Claire’s trust locked everything down."
"So your father made a deal with her," Arthur Vance prompted, tapping his pen against a legal pad.
"They approached her fourteen months ago," Sterling confessed, his eyes wide with panic, desperate to trade anyone and everyone to save himself. "My father agreed to fund an offshore trust for Rebecca in the Cook Islands with ten million dollars. In exchange, she was supposed to feed him internal acquisition memos from your private home office."
"And Emma?" Daniel asked, his voice dropping into a dangerous, lethal whisper. "Why drug my daughter?"
Sterling looked down at his shoes, unable to meet Daniel’s gaze. "Rebecca said... she said Emma was always around. Emma had a habit of wandering into your study to look at pictures of Claire. Rebecca was terrified the girl would see her taking photographs of your desk, or that she would tell you people were visiting the house while you were traveling. Rebecca wanted her knocked out every afternoon so she could work uninterrupted."
Daniel stood up.
He did not touch the doctor. To touch him would be to soil his hands with something rotten.
"Detective Brody," Daniel said, turning his back on the trembling man. "Take this creature out of my house."
"With pleasure, Mr. Harrison," Brody replied, pulling a pair of Smith & Wesson steel cuffs from his belt.
As the metallic clicks of the handcuffs echoed through the walnut library, Daniel looked at Arthur Vance.
"Arthur."
"Yes, Daniel?"
"Call the managing director of the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. And call the head of equity trading at Goldman Sachs. We are liquidating our short positions on Sterling Industries at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. I want Richard Sterling’s stock price driven into the dirt before the noon bell."
"Consider it done," Arthur said. "And what about Rebecca?"
May you like
Daniel looked toward the ceiling, where the guest suite on the third floor lay under total blackout.
"Tell Vanguard to bring her down to the conservatory," Daniel said. "It's time my wife learned the true cost of her ambitions."
