The cryptic note from Mr. Finch solidified my conviction: Croft’s relentless campaign against me was directly linked to the Finch endowment. He believed I was an obstacle, and he likely misunderstood the true spirit of Finch’s wishes. Our next step was clear: we had to find the specific legal instrument that defined the “true innovation” and “will to heal” criteria Finch hinted at. If Finch had gone to such lengths to revise his will and leave a cryptic message, he surely would have ensured his true intentions were legally binding.
Ben, ever resourceful, took the lead on this. “If there’s a specific clause, it has to be somewhere in a legal document. And if it’s hidden, it means someone was involved in hiding it.”
“Like the notary who handled the *first* will?” I suggested. “Mr. Reginald Moss.”
“Exactly,” Ben affirmed. “He was the original executor, and Croft seems to have had dealings with him. If anyone would know about amendments or addendums that were intentionally suppressed, it would be Moss.”
Ben made a few discreet calls, using his network of hospital contacts to ascertain Moss’s current whereabouts and practice. Moss was still in business, operating a respectable, if somewhat old-fashioned, notary office downtown. Ben decided to go alone, reasoning that a junior resident asking questions might raise fewer alarms than a surgeon currently under hospital review.
The following afternoon, Ben found himself in the quiet waiting room of Mr. Reginald Moss’s office. The room was sparsely furnished with dark wood and framed certificates, exuding an air of understated authority. Moss himself emerged a few minutes later, a portly man with a precisely trimmed mustache and a polite, almost obsequious smile.
“Dr. Carter, what a pleasure,” Moss greeted, his voice smooth and practiced. “How may I be of assistance?”
“Mr. Moss,” Ben began, trying to project a casual confidence he didn’t feel. “I’m a resident at St. Jude’s, and I’m assisting with some posthumous administrative matters for Mr. Silas Finch. We’re reviewing some of his philanthropic endeavors.”
Moss’s smile stiffened fractionally. “Ah, Mr. Finch. A remarkable man. His estate matters are quite complex, as you can imagine.”
“Indeed,” Ben agreed. “We recently came across a revised will, dated just a month before his passing, that wasn’t widely known. It mentions a special endowment for the hospital.” He paused, watching Moss carefully. “We’re trying to piece together the full scope of his intentions. Were you aware of any other, perhaps more specific, addendums or trust provisions that might have been executed around that time?”
Moss’s composure cracked. His eyes darted to the antique clock on the wall, then back to Ben, a flicker of panic in their depths. He cleared his throat. “Dr. Carter, I handled Mr. Finch’s *original* will, some years ago. A very straightforward document.” He paused, choosing his words with exaggerated care. “Any subsequent revisions or addendums… well, those would fall outside the purview of my initial engagement, wouldn’t they?”
“Perhaps,” Ben pressed, maintaining a polite but firm tone. “But as the original notary, one would assume you’d be informed of significant changes, especially given your long-standing relationship with Mr. Finch.”
Moss began to fidget, his fingers nervously adjusting the knot of his tie. “My professional obligations, Dr. Carter, are strictly defined by my contracts. I’m afraid I am… contractually obligated… not to discuss specific client matters that may have been handled by other parties.” He avoided eye contact, his gaze sweeping across the framed degrees on his wall as if seeking reassurance.
“And who might those ‘other parties’ be?” Ben asked, sensing he was getting closer. “Was Dr. Julian Croft involved in any of these later discussions or amendments?”
At the mention of Croft’s name, Moss’s face visibly paled. He practically recoiled. “Dr. Carter, I’m afraid this conversation must end. My duties are confidential. I have no information to provide regarding Dr. Croft or any speculative ‘addendums’ you might be pursuing. My files on Mr. Finch are complete as far as my involvement goes.” He stood up abruptly, signaling the interview was over. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another urgent appointment.”
As Ben stood to leave, he noticed Moss’s hand subtly reaching for his desk phone. Just as Ben stepped out into the hallway, he heard Moss’s voice, hushed and urgent. “Julian? It’s Reginald. We have a problem. That junior resident, Carter, he’s asking questions about Finch… and those… ‘provisions.’ He mentioned *you*.”
The phone clicked, and the door to Moss’s office swiftly closed.
Ben’s heart hammered against his ribs. He felt a surge of triumph, immediately followed by a wave of cold dread. Moss was not just evading questions; he was actively covering up. And he was clearly working with Croft. The “contractual obligations” weren’t to a client’s confidentiality, but to Croft himself. Moss was complicit.
I was waiting anxiously for Ben back at the hospital, in the quiet solitude of an empty consult room. He burst in, agitated but exhilarated.
“He’s involved, Elena,” Ben practically whispered, running a hand through his hair. “Moss is in on it. I mentioned Croft’s name, and he practically turned green. Then, as I was leaving, I heard him call Croft. He said, ‘We have a problem. Carter is asking about Finch… and those “provisions.” He mentioned you.'”
My jaw dropped. “So Croft had Moss suppress the true will? Or a specific part of it?”
“It has to be,” Ben said, pacing the small room. “Moss wouldn’t give me any details, kept repeating ‘contractual obligations.’ But his reaction, the call to Croft… it all screams cover-up.”
“And Moss was the notary for the *first* will,” I mused. “Croft must have found out about Finch’s intention to change things and gotten to Moss to intercept or conceal any later documents that didn’t favor him. That’s why the revised will was so discreetly filed and vague on specific beneficiaries.”
“But if Moss handled the first will, and possibly tried to suppress the second, that means there’s still a *third* piece of the puzzle,” Ben realized. “Something Moss couldn’t get his hands on. Something even *more* specific than the revised will we found. Finch was too clever to put all his eggs in one basket, especially if he suspected manipulation.”
The adrenaline of the discovery gave way to a fresh surge of urgency. Moss’s obvious complicity and direct connection to Croft was a shocking confirmation of their scheme. But it also proved that somewhere out there, there was another document. Another notary. One who had truly executed Finch’s final, specific wishes, beyond Croft’s corrupt reach. The trail was getting hotter, leading us directly to the heart of Croft’s desperate, greedy plan. We had to find that notary, and that true provision, before Croft could complete his sabotage.
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