Sign the severance deed and take this black card, Eleanor—you have ten minutes to clear your things before the international investment board arrives, my neighbor Arthur Halloway said, sliding th...
Detective Brooks wasted no time. The discovery of the forged signatures escalated the case from a local property dispute to a full-blown federal fraud investigation. His next stop was Victoria Croft’s office at Halloway Capital.
He found her poring over legal briefs, her sleek, modern office a stark contrast to the old-world charm of my estate. Brooks didn’t shout. He didn’t make accusations. He simply laid out the facts, quietly.
“Ms. Croft,” he began, placing a folder on her polished desk, “I’m investigating the Halloway Capital board resolution from December 2018, regarding certain corporate disbursements.”
Victoria’s posture stiffened slightly. “Yes, Detective. We’ve provided all the necessary documentation.”
“Indeed,” Brooks said, opening the folder. He pulled out two documents: a copy of the 2018 resolution with the digitally scanned signatures, and the probate certificates for George Thompson and Martha Vance, both showing dates of death prior to December 2018.
He slid them across the table. “You drafted this resolution, correct, Ms. Croft?”
Victoria glanced at the documents, then back at Brooks, a flicker of apprehension in her eyes. “Yes, I did. Based on instructions from Mr. Halloway.”
“And you oversaw the collection of signatures?”
She hesitated. “I… provided the document for signature. Mr. Halloway handled the final collection and archiving.” Her voice was beginning to lose its usual confident edge.
Brooks pointed to the death certificates. “Are you aware that two of the purported signatories were deceased prior to the date of this resolution?”
Victoria picked up the probate documents. Her eyes widened, her face paling. The carefully composed mask she usually wore began to crack. She knew. She must have known that these were legitimate, federal documents.
“No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “That’s… impossible.”
“The timestamp metadata on the digital file suggests it was modified three weeks ago, Ms. Croft,” Brooks continued, his voice still even, betraying no judgment, just cold fact. “The original corporate seal was applied to a document containing forged signatures, and that document was then used to justify an emergency injunction against Mrs. Kincaid, alleging embezzlement.”
He leaned forward slightly. “This places you, as the drafting attorney, in a very serious position, Ms. Croft. Disbarment, at a minimum. Federal criminal conspiracy charges are also on the table.”
Victoria stared at the documents, then at Brooks, then at the panoramic view of the city outside her window. The ambitious partnership she craved, the prestige she had worked so hard for – all of it was crumbling before her eyes. Arthur had used her, manipulated her, putting her career and freedom in jeopardy without her full knowledge. He hadn’t just used her legal credentials; he’d likely stolen the actual corporate seal to apply to the forged document.
She slumped back in her chair, defeat etched on her face. Her carefully constructed world was collapsing.
“I… I have internal company communications,” she finally stammered, her voice thick with panic. “Emails. Recordings. Calendars. Everything leading up to that 2018 resolution, and the Kincaid acquisition. I can give you everything.”
Brooks simply nodded. “That would be a wise decision, Ms. Croft.”
He handed her a card. “Call this number. It’s for the federal prosecutor’s office. They’ll appreciate your cooperation.”
Victoria Croft, the sharp, dismissive corporate attorney, had finally retreated. Arthur Halloway’s web was not just unraveling; his closest ally was now turning against him, driven by a desperate need for self-preservation.
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