Chapter 10 - The Witness Who Was Afraid
Margaret had spent three years refusing to speak.
Not because she didn't remember.
Because she remembered everything.
She told us the fire began in the storage room.
Before the kitchen had even closed.
She had smelled chemicals.
Then she saw Julian's father arguing with Daniel's brother.
They were discussing missing financial records.
Margaret tried to call for help.
But the phone line had already been cut.
She escaped through a back door.
Daniel's brother didn't.
I asked why she never went to the police.
She looked at me.
“I did.”
“What happened?”
“They told me there wasn't enough evidence.”
“And then?”
“Someone offered me money.”
She refused.
Then her car brakes failed.
After that, she stopped talking.
I understood.
Fear had kept the truth buried.
But Daniel had kept digging.
And now Julian was trying to bury it again.
Margaret gave us one final item.
A small metal key.
“Daniel left this with me.”
“What does it open?”
She shook her head.
“I never found out.”
The key had a number stamped into it.
217.
Marco recognized it.
“That's not a room number.”
“What is it?”
“An old bank deposit box.”
We found the bank that afternoon.
The box still existed.
Inside was a flash drive and a handwritten statement signed by Daniel.
The files showed years of financial transfers.
But there was something even more important.
A recording.
Daniel's voice.
“If you're hearing this, I've probably failed.”
I closed my eyes.
He continued.
“The person controlling the operation isn't Julian.”
Marco looked at me.
The recording went on.
“Julian is only protecting his father's legacy.”
I felt cold.
“Someone else is directing the money.”
Daniel named the person.
I couldn't breathe.
It was Beatrice.
But not the Beatrice who had assaulted me.
The recording explained that she had once been forced to cooperate.
Then she had secretly begun collecting evidence against them.
She had hidden the second ledger.
She had protected employees when she could.
And she had been terrified because she knew exactly what happened to people who resisted.
I looked at Marco.
“We've misunderstood her.”
“Not completely,” he said.
“She still assaulted me.”
“Yes.”
I nodded.
“Then she still has to answer for that.”
But now there was another question.
If Beatrice had been secretly fighting the operation...
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Why had she tried so hard to make me leave?
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