Chapter 8 - THE COLD EMBRACE OF JUSTICE AND THE TEARS OF A TRAITOR
Returning to the Greenwich estate felt like entering a crime scene that I was somehow still living in.
The yellow police tape fluttered in the breeze,
looping around the ornate gate posts and the stone lions that guarded the entrance.
The FBI had taken over the guest cottage.
I stood on the lawn,
watching as agents hauled boxes of files and computer equipment out of the small,
ivy-covered building.
This was where Evelyn had spent her days,
planning the next moves of a dead man’s empire.
Miller came out,
wiping sweat from his forehead.
"We found it,"
he said.
"Under the floorboards in the master bedroom."
"What?"
"A server,"
he said,
his voice low.
"A direct link to the Chicago exchange."
"Arthur wasn't just laundering money,
Mark."
"He was manipulating the market in real-time."
"He was using the 'acquisition' to trigger a massive sell-off in three different sectors."
"If that deal had gone through yesterday,
the economy would have taken a hit that would have made the 2008 crash look like a picnic."
I felt a cold shiver run down my spine.
My father-in-law wasn't just a criminal;
he was a terrorist.
A financial ghost who wanted to burn the world down from his basement.
"Where is my wife?"
I asked.
"She’s at the federal holding facility in White Plains,"
Miller said.
"She’s being processed."
"She wants to see you."
"I can't,"
I said,
the words feeling heavy.
"I have to take care of Lily."
"Mark,"
Miller said,
putting a hand on my shoulder.
"She’s facing twenty years."
"If she cooperates,
if she tells us where Arthur went,
we might be able to get her a deal."
"But she won't talk to us."
"She’ll only talk to you."
I looked at the main house.
Lily was in there with a social worker and a family friend.
She was safe for now,
but the world she knew was gone.
I was the only thing she had left.
And I was being asked to go back into the lion's den.
"I'll go,"
I said.
The drive to White Plains was a blur.
The holding facility was a bleak,
concrete structure that stood in stark contrast to the luxury of Greenwich.
I was led through a series of buzzing doors and metal detectors until I reached a small,
windowless interview room.
Sarah was sitting at a metal table.
She looked smaller than I remembered.
The silk robe had been replaced by a coarse orange jumpsuit.
Her hair was tangled,
and her eyes were rimmed with red.
When she saw me,
she didn't move.
"Mark,"
she whispered.
"I sat across from her,
the coldness of the metal chair seeping through my suit.
"Why,
Sarah?"
"I told you,"
she said,
her voice trembling.
"To keep us safe."
"To keep the money."
"To keep the life we had."
"The life we had was a lie!"
I slammed my hand on the table,
the sound echoing like a thunderclap.
"Lily was terrified."
"Your mother was pointing a gun at me."
"And your father is a monster who wanted to collapse the market."
"He didn't want to hurt anyone,"
she cried,
leaning forward.
"He just wanted the power back."
"They took everything from him,
Mark."
"The board,
the investors...
they threw him out like trash."
"He wanted to show them he was still the one in control."
"Where is he,
Sarah?"
I asked,
ignoring her excuses.
"Where did he go through that tunnel?"
She looked down at her hands,
her fingers interlaced.
"He has a place in Chicago."
"A penthouse he bought under a different name years ago."
"It's on Wacker Drive."
"He’s going to finish it,
Mark."
"He’s going to execute the final trade from there."
"And if you don't help him,
he’ll release the documents that prove you were the one who signed the initial transfers."
"He’ll take you down with him."
I looked at my wife,
the woman I had loved more than life itself.
She wasn't just a victim.
She was a messenger for the man who was destroying us.
"Let him,"
I said,
standing up.
"I'd rather be in a cell than be a part of this family for one more second."
I walked out of the room,
ignoring her screams as she called my name.
I had the location.
I had the motive.
And I had a plan.
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I wasn't going to Chicago to close a deal.
I was going to Chicago to kill a ghost.
