Chapter 2: The Numbers That Didn't Add Up
The executive conference room was on the thirty-second floor.
It had floor-to-ceiling windows, a polished walnut table, and a view of the city that made everything below look insignificant.
My father had loved that room.
He used to sit at the head of the table with a cup of black coffee and listen to people explain why something couldn't be done.
Then he'd ask one question.
"What's the actual problem?""
Most people hated that question.
It left them nowhere to hide.
I placed the cardboard box beside his old chair.
By the time the department heads arrived, Vanessa was already waiting.
Her ivory suit had been replaced by a dark blue jacket.
The coffee stain was gone.
So was her confidence.
"Mr. Carter," she said, standing.
"I've prepared the operational reports you requested.""
"All of them?""
"Naturally.""
I took my seat.
"Then let's begin.""
There were seven people around the table.
Vanessa sat to my right.
To my left was Richard Hale, the company's Chief Financial Officer. He was a silver-haired man in his early sixties who had worked with my father for nearly twenty years.
I remembered him from family dinners.
He had once taught me how to play chess.
"Marcus," Richard said quietly, "it's good to finally have you here.""
"Good to see you too, Richard.""
Vanessa opened a presentation.
"Our operations remain stable despite the recent market challenges. We've experienced temporary fluctuations in logistics costs, but our projections indicate a strong recovery.""
She clicked to the next slide.
Revenue.
Expenses.
Profit margins.
Everything looked beautiful.
Too beautiful.
I studied the numbers.
"Why did our logistics expenses increase by thirty-eight percent?""
Vanessa didn't hesitate.
"Fuel costs, supplier adjustments, and several emergency transportation contracts.""
"Which suppliers?""
She clicked through another slide.
"Northbridge Logistics, Westfield Transport, and several smaller regional providers.""
I looked at Richard.
"Have you verified these contracts?""
Richard adjusted his glasses.
"Finance reviewed the invoices submitted by Operations.""
"That's not what I asked.""
The room became quiet.
"Have you verified that these companies actually performed the work?""
Richard glanced toward Vanessa.
She answered for him.
"Of course. We have an established approval process.""
I leaned back.
"Then you won't mind if we examine the supporting documents.""
Vanessa smiled.
"Not at all.""
She opened another folder.
I took out a document from my father's box.
It was an old handwritten note.
The paper had yellowed around the edges.
My father's handwriting was unmistakable.
Northbridge. Check ownership. Same address as Westfield. Ask Richard before signing anything.
I placed it on the table.
Richard went completely still.
Vanessa looked at the paper.
Then she looked at me.
"Where did you get that?""
"My father's office.""
"That note could be years old.""
"It is.""
I turned toward Richard.
"Do you know why he wrote it?""
Richard cleared his throat.
"I'd rather not speculate.""
"That's fine. We can look at facts instead.""
I slid three invoices across the table.
The companies had different names.
Different logos.
Different registered directors.
But they all listed the same office address.
And the same telephone number.
Vanessa reached for the documents.
"These are routine vendor arrangements.""
I placed my hand over them.
"Don't.""
Her fingers stopped.
I continued.
"Three companies. One address. Nearly eight million dollars in payments over eleven months. Who owns them?""
"Marcus, supplier relationships are complicated.""
"Then explain them.""
She looked around the table.
Nobody came to her rescue.
Finally, Richard spoke.
"Those companies were introduced to us through Operations. I approved the payments based on the supporting paperwork.""
"Who introduced them?""
Richard looked down.
"Vanessa.""
The room changed.
Vanessa turned sharply.
"Richard, that's not entirely accurate.""
He swallowed.
"You asked Finance to expedite the contracts.""
"Because we had deadlines!""
"And you said the board had already approved the arrangements.""
Vanessa stood.
"I will not sit here and be accused of misconduct because someone has decided to conduct an amateur investigation.""
I remained seated.
"Nobody has accused you of anything.""
"You clearly suspect me.""
"I suspect eight million dollars has disappeared.""
She picked up her tablet.
"This meeting is becoming unproductive.""
"Sit down, Vanessa.""
She stared at me.
For a moment, I thought she might actually refuse.
Then she lowered herself into the chair.
I turned to the youngest person in the room.
A woman with dark hair, a gray blazer, and a small notebook in front of her.
She had barely spoken.
"What's your name?""
"Emily Parker. Junior financial analyst.""
"Have you seen these invoices before?""
Emily glanced at Vanessa.
"Yes, sir.""
"Did you approve them?""
"No.""
"Did you raise concerns?""
Her fingers tightened around her pen.
"Twice.""
Vanessa interrupted.
"Emily was new to the department. She didn't understand the approval structure.""
Emily looked down.
I waited.
Finally, she spoke.
"I emailed my concerns to Ms. Reed. I never received a response.""
Vanessa's face hardened.
"That's enough.""
I turned to Emily.
"Do you still have those emails?""
"Yes, sir.""
"Send them to me.""
Vanessa closed her tablet.
"Mr. Carter, I strongly advise against making decisions based on incomplete information.""
"That's why I'm asking for the complete information.""
I stood.
"The next board meeting will be in forty-eight hours. Until then, nobody deletes a file, changes a record, or contacts these suppliers about this investigation.""
Vanessa rose.
"Are you suggesting I would interfere with company records?""
"I'm suggesting that anyone who has nothing to hide shouldn't be frightened by an audit.""
The meeting ended.
Most of the executives left immediately.
Emily stayed behind.
She waited until the door closed.
"Mr. Carter?""
"Yes?""
She approached the table and placed a small USB drive beside my father's note.
"I found something else.""
I looked at the drive.
"What is it?""
"An archived spreadsheet. It contains payments that don't appear in the official reports.""
"How much?""
She hesitated.
"Almost twenty-three million dollars.""
I stared at her.
"Why didn't you report this?""
"I tried. That's why I was transferred to the records department.""
"Who transferred you?""
She looked toward the door.
"Ms. Reed.""
I picked up the drive.
"Emily, I need you to be careful. Don't confront anyone. Don't access anything you aren't authorized to access.""
She nodded.
Then she reached into her folder and removed a folded sheet of paper.
"I also found this in the old archive.""
It was a photocopy of a document.
My father's signature appeared at the bottom.
But something was wrong.
The date was six days after his death.
I read it again.
The document authorized the transfer of controlling shares in Carter Global to a private investment company.
The company was called Blackstone Meridian Holdings.
I looked up.
"Who submitted this?""
Emily's voice dropped.
"Vanessa Reed.""
My hands went cold.
My father had died suddenly in his home.
The official report had described it as a cardiac event.
But he had been healthy enough to work until the evening before.
I looked at the signature again.
It looked like his.
Almost.
"Emily, where is the original?""
"Locked in the legal department's archive.""
"Who has access?""
She took a breath.
"Only the general counsel, the CFO, and...""
She stopped.
"And who?""
"Vanessa Reed.""
Before I could respond, my office phone rang.
Richard's name appeared on the screen.
I answered.
"Richard?""
His voice was barely audible.
"Marcus, I need to speak with you.""
"About the document?""
"No. About your father.""
I stood.
"What about him?""
Richard took a shaky breath.
"Your father didn't die believing the company was safe.""
I gripped the edge of the desk.
"What are you saying?""
"There's something I should have told you before you came here.""
"What?""
Richard whispered five words.
May you like
"Your father was murdered.""
Then the line went dead.
