Chapter 3 - The Sealed Envelope
Eleanor Davenport took an involuntary step back from the mahogany table. That sealed envelope, tied with the crimson ribbon, was something she knew intimately. It was the original ledger of the Davenport Foundation, dated the winter of 2004—the night her late husband supposedly suffered a fatal, natural coronary on their private yacht.
""That document is attorney-client privileged!"" Julian barked, his voice cracking. He tried to scramble toward the bench, but the heavy hand of Marshal Miller slammed down on his shoulder, pinning him firmly to the carpeted floor. ""Don't touch me! I am an attorney of record!""
""Sit down, Mr. Sterling, before I hold you in summary contempt,"" Clara said, her voice dropping into a register of frigid authority that made the gallery fall entirely dead. ""The crime-fraud exception eliminates any privilege when the communications are made to facilitate a continuing criminal enterprise.""
Clara sliced open the ribbon with a silver letter opener. She slid out the yellowed financial logs. The courtroom was so quiet that the slide of paper against paper sounded like sandpaper on skin.
""Let the record reflect,"" Clara announced clearly into the record, ""that the court is examining Exhibit Eleven. In this original ledger, authenticated by the Treasury's forensic unit this morning, thirty-two million dollars intended for municipal transit pensions were rerouted through a shell company in the Cayman Islands known as 'Blue Heron Holdings'.""
Clara looked up, her gaze pinning Eleanor to her chair. ""Eleanor Davenport, you signed every single wire transfer. And your signature was witnessed and notarized by a fresh associate at the Sterling firm... named Julian Sterling.""
Julian stared at the ceiling, his breathing shallow. ""Twenty years... the statute of limitations...""
""The statute of limitations on grand larceny does not expire when the financial fraud is tied to a murder investigation,"" Clara interrupted sharply.
Eleanor gripped the arms of her chair. Her patrician mask cracked entirely, revealing the hollow, desperate predator underneath. ""Murder? Arthur died of a heart attack! It was certified by the state medical examiner!""
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""The medical examiner whom your late brother paid two hundred thousand dollars to alter the toxicology report,"" Clara replied calmly, turning another page. ""The body was exhumed forty-eight hours ago under my direct order.""
Cliffhanger: Eleanor suddenly lunged toward the defense table, sweeping Julian’s files onto the floor as she screamed, ""He promised me the grave was permanent!""
