Chapter 8 - A Death with Two Versions
The medical examiner’s report listed Mark Mercer’s cause of death as a ruptured cerebral aneurysm. Claire had seen the report when she was sixteen. Her mother had cried over it, and Diane had attended the funeral wearing a black coat and no makeup. There had been no mystery. Yet Daniel’s accusation followed them back to the townhouse. Claire printed the report and placed it beside the letter. “An aneurysm is not murder,” she said. Diane stood by the window. “No. But stress can bring one on.” “That is not what Daniel said.” “Daniel says whatever keeps him alive.”
Ethan paced the living room. “Why would Daniel want Dad dead?” “Your father found the transfers,” Diane said. “He planned to expose Rebecca and Daniel.” “Then why did you protect them?” “I protected you.” “You keep saying that as if it excuses everything.” Diane looked at him with a tired affection that made Claire uncomfortable. “Rebecca knew where you lived. Daniel knew your school. They said if I testified, you would be blamed for money you had never seen.” “I was twelve.” “They knew that. They did not care.”
Maya called from her office with a new lead. The doctor who signed Mark’s death certificate had retired, but his records remained at a hospital archive. The report contained an attached note from a nurse: patient reported dizziness and said he had been threatened by a man connected to the bank. “That note was never included in the family copy,” Maya said. “The hospital can release it if we obtain a subpoena.” Claire glanced at Diane. “Who was the man?” “I never saw him,” Diane answered. “Mark did.”
Noah sat at the kitchen table, reading every document aloud into a notebook. He had stopped asking whether he was too young. Claire watched him underline dates and circle names. “You don’t have to carry this,” she said. “Everyone else carried it for me. That’s how it got stolen.” He looked up. “I want to study accounting.” The statement surprised her. “You hate numbers.” “I hate not knowing what they mean.” Claire smiled despite herself. “Then learn.” “Will you help me?” “Every day.”
Ethan went to the hospital alone and returned after midnight. He held a photocopy in a shaking hand. “The nurse remembered Mark,” he said. “She said he came in two weeks before he died. He had bruises on his wrist.” Claire took the paper. The nurse had written that Mark refused treatment and told her, “If anything happens, look for the blue ledger.” “What is the blue ledger?” Claire asked. Diane sat down. “I don’t know.” “You were helping him.” “He stopped trusting me.”
May you like
The blue ledger was found in the basement behind a loose brick, exactly where Diane had never allowed Claire to store anything. It was a narrow accounting book wrapped in plastic. The entries covered six years. Payments from Rebecca, transfers to Daniel, withdrawals from accounts belonging to North Star, and one repeated notation: B.L.—Chicago Mutual. Claire recognized Chicago Mutual as the insurance company that had paid Mark’s life policy. The policy had been worth $250,000. Her mother had told Claire the benefit was only $18,000 after expenses.
At the back of the ledger, Mark had written a list of names. Beside each name was a date and a question mark. The last name was Ethan Cole. Under it, Mark had written: Diane says he is safe. Daniel says he is useful. Claire could not understand why a twelve-year-old boy would matter to a fraud scheme. Then Noah found an envelope tucked into the ledger’s spine. It contained a photograph of Ethan as a child with Mark standing behind him, one hand on his shoulder. On the back, Mark had written: Ethan is not Leonard’s son. Claire looked at Diane. “Whose son is he?”
