The spare phone displayed an audio file divided into dozens of tiny segments.
“It proves someone cut his words together,” she said.
“The file has visible edit points.”
Keller scrolled through the device without opening anything else.
“There are twenty-three clips.
Different dates.
Different calls.”
Rourke’s gaze remained on Victor.
“You built a confession in my voice.”
Victor leaned forward as far as Keller allowed.
“I protected you from mistakes you were too proud to see.
Keller has been preparing to leave.
He has copied account records.
He has spoken to federal attorneys.
I stopped him before he sold you.”
Keller’s expression hardened.
“I copied records because money was disappearing from the Newark routes.”
“And you did not tell him.”
“I was identifying the thief.”
Victor smiled despite the hand holding him down.
“There.
He admits it.
He was investigating you behind your back.”
Rourke turned to Keller.
“Were you?”
“I was investigating whoever had created duplicate freight contracts under three of your holding companies,” Keller said.
“Every trail ended at a security authorization.
I did not bring it to you because Victor controlled the internal reports.
I needed proof he could not erase.”
Victor’s confidence flickered.
Claire picked up the remaining papers from the envelope.
There was a prepared statement announcing Keller’s death, a copy of an emergency board resolution, and instructions transferring temporary control of several logistics subsidiaries to a crisis committee.
Victor Hale’s name appeared at the top of that committee.
Rourke read the page twice.
“You were going to kill Keller, drug me, plant the vial, and release the edited recording.”
Victor said nothing.
Keller finished the thought.
“Police arrive to find me dead, Adrian impaired, poison in his coat, and a recording of him calling me a liability.
While he is detained, you activate the emergency resolution and take control of the companies.”
“The resolution is forged,” Victor said.
“It is prepared,” Claire replied.
“That is worse for you, not better.”
Victor looked at her with pure hatred.
“You have no idea what you stepped into.”
Claire met his stare.
“I knew exactly what I stepped into when I saw the glass.”
Rourke examined the board document.
Keller moved beside him, still keeping Victor restrained.
“My signature is wrong,” Keller said.
“It looks convincing,” Rourke replied.
“The first stroke is too slow.
Whoever copied it worked from a scanned contract.”
Claire noticed a faint gray mark near the bottom of the page.
“The numbering is wrong too,” she said.
“Page four identifies itself as page six.
The document was assembled from separate files.”
