Chapter 8 - The Contingency Package
By noon, three national news outlets had received thousands of Bellmont emails.
Some were genuine.
Some were altered.
Several appeared to show Catherine ordering charitable money transferred into personal entities.
One email contained the sentence:
Make sure Cedar stays outside the normal audit channel.
Catherine had never written it.
But it had been inserted into a real conversation she had sent two years earlier.
Richard understood modern scandal.
People rarely waited for forensic verification.
By twelve thirty, Bellmont’s stock price had fallen eleven percent.
By one, protestors stood outside company headquarters.
By two, Catherine’s photograph appeared beside the headline:
BILLIONAIRE HEIRESS LINKED TO SECRET OFFSHORE FUNDS
Richard’s assault case temporarily disappeared beneath the financial scandal.
Exactly as he intended.
Naomi shut off the television.
“He’s flooding the story.”
Catherine sat at the conference table surrounded by lawyers and forensic specialists.
“What can we prove today?”
“That some emails were manipulated.”
“How fast?”
“Hours for obvious ones. Days for others.”
“And the genuine messages?”
“Context.”
Catherine laughed bitterly.
“Context loses to screenshots.”
Jonah Price entered carrying a laptop.
“I found the contingency package.”
Everyone looked at him.
“Halcyon maintained an archive of Bellmont executive email accounts.”
“Why?”
“Officially, disaster recovery.”
“Unofficially?”
“Richard appears to have authorized a parallel archive accessible outside Bellmont.”
Naomi frowned.
“Was Catherine’s email included?”
“Everything was.”
Catherine remembered thousands of messages.
Board disputes.
Family arguments.
Medical appointments.
Personal notes.
“How much does Richard have?”
“Potentially years.”
“Can he alter all of it?”
“Copies, yes. Not the original server logs.”
“Then prove the originals.”
“We’re doing that.”
A forensic specialist turned from another screen.
“We have something.”
An access log appeared.
The leaked files had been uploaded through a Halcyon account.
The credentials belonged to a senior administrator.
Graham Pike.
Catherine stared.
“Graham did this?”
“His account did.”
“Where is he?”
Nobody knew.
At three seventeen, Emily received a message from an unknown number.
YOUR EMAIL WILL BE NEXT.
She showed Detective Ortiz immediately.
The number was untraceable at first glance.
Ten minutes later, another message arrived.
A photograph.
Emily leaving the district attorney’s office that morning.
Taken from across the street.
Emily’s body went cold.
“Is Richard following me?”
“We don’t know,” Ortiz said.
Emily looked at the photo.
The idea that someone had been watching her reopened the fear she had barely begun containing.
Ortiz arranged additional protective measures and told Emily to vary predictable routines.
Emily hated that.
Richard had attacked her.
Now she had to reorganize her life around his choices.
Her phone rang.
Catherine.
Emily almost declined.
Then answered.
“I’m busy.”
“Did you receive a threat?”
Emily froze.
“How do you know?”
“Naomi heard from the prosecutor.”
“So everyone knows?”
“Only people working the case.”
Emily looked toward Ortiz.
“What do you want?”
“To tell you Halcyon may be involved.”
“The security company?”
“Yes.”
Emily remembered something.
“Halcyon came to the house last month.”
Catherine went silent.
“When?”
“Three or four weeks ago. Two technicians.”
“For what?”
“They said Richard requested a security inspection.”
Catherine stood.
“Did they enter your room?”
Emily’s face changed.
“One of them did.”
“Why?”
“He said he was checking smoke detectors.”
“Emily, listen to me. Tell Detective Ortiz now.”
Emily put the phone on speaker.
Ortiz heard everything.
Within an hour, investigators obtained permission to inspect Emily’s former bedroom with Catherine’s consent and under the conditions of the evidence search already underway.
They found no camera.
But behind the smoke detector was a tiny wireless transmitter.
It was not active.
A forensic technician bagged it.
“What does it do?” Emily asked.
“We need to examine it.”
“Could it record?”
“Possibly audio.”
Emily stepped backward.
Every private conversation.
Every call to Danielle.
Every night she cried after Richard’s comments.
Maybe someone had listened.
Catherine stood in the hallway watching investigators work.
Emily turned toward her.
“You brought Halcyon into this house.”
“Richard selected them.”
“You signed the contract.”
“Yes.”
“You always have an answer that makes you one step less responsible.”
Catherine absorbed the blow.
Then nodded.
“You’re right.”
Emily had expected defense.
The lack of it left her angrier.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Nothing.”
Catherine’s voice cracked.
“I’m the one who has to do something with it.”
That evening, Graham Pike finally surfaced.
He walked into the U.S. Attorney’s Office in Manhattan with two lawyers.
By nine, federal investigators were speaking with Bellmont’s counsel.
Financial fraud had crossed state lines and involved electronically transmitted corporate records.
The investigation widened.
Graham asked for cooperation consideration.
He did not receive blanket immunity.
But he began talking.
At eleven forty-three, Naomi called Catherine.
“Graham says Richard ordered the leaks.”
Catherine closed her eyes.
“And Cedar?”
“He says Cedar was Richard’s fund.”
“Can he prove it?”
“Maybe.”
“What about Halcyon?”
Naomi paused.
“That’s why I’m calling.”
Catherine sat up.
“Graham says Halcyon wasn’t primarily protecting Richard.”
“What does that mean?”
“It was collecting information.”
“On whom?”
“Staff. Executives. Lawyers.”
Catherine felt her stomach drop.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Leverage.”
The word hung between them.
Then Naomi added, “Graham claims Richard kept a private archive separate from Halcyon’s system.”
“Where?”
“He doesn’t know.”
“Then how does he know it exists?”
“Because Richard showed him one file.”
“What file?”
“Yours.”
Catherine stopped breathing.
Naomi continued.
May you like
“It was labeled ‘Catherine—Control.’”
And suddenly the hidden camera above the chandelier no longer seemed like the most frightening camera in the Welles marriage.
