Minutes after the charter’s revelation, Auditor Donald Sikes arrived. He was an old man, thin and wiry, with eyes that missed nothing. He wore an immaculate grey suit and carried a worn leather briefcase. He took one look at the 1982 charter, his face softening with recognition.
“The blood covenant,” Sikes murmured, tracing the faded crimson mark. “Remarkable. I haven’t seen one of these in person in decades.”
He then scrutinized Marcus’s 2018 deed, holding it up to the light, comparing the seals. His expression hardened.
“Elias Croft,” Sikes said, his voice quiet but authoritative. “Find him. Now.”
Hicks immediately dispatched two enforcers. They had Croft’s address from Leo’s earlier discovery. The waiting was agony.
About an hour later, the guards returned, pulling a terrified Elias Croft through the front door. Croft was a nervous man, balding, with sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. He wore a rumpled suit, his tie askew.
He saw Marcus, then me, then Hicks, and finally Sikes. His eyes darted frantically between us all.
“Mr. Croft,” Sikes began, his voice surprisingly gentle, but with an underlying steel. “You notarized a property transfer for The Anchorage in 2018, correct?”
Croft swallowed hard. “Yes, sir. I did. Standard procedure.”
“Standard procedure for a $1.00 transfer of a multi-million-dollar sanctuary?” Hicks interjected, his voice sharp.
Croft flinched. “It was… what the client requested.”
Sikes reached into his briefcase and pulled out the crumpled deposit slip Leo had found. He smoothed it out on the table. “$150,000. Wire transfer from Marcus Brody to your personal account. Three weeks ago. Care to explain, Mr. Croft?”
Croft’s eyes widened. He glanced at Marcus, who remained impassive, his face a carefully constructed mask.
“I… I can explain,” Croft stammered, his voice cracking. “It was a… a loan. For gambling debts.”
“A loan for $150,000, paid precisely three weeks before this ‘transfer’ was notarized?” Hicks pressed, stepping closer. “And the signature on this 2018 document. Is that truly Arthur Pendelton’s hand, or a forgery?”
Croft looked at Marcus again, then back at Sikes, who now fixed him with a stare that seemed to pierce his very soul.
“I… I didn’t want to,” Croft whimpered, tears starting to stream down his face. “He made me. Marcus threatened me. He said he’d ruin me. My family.”
His confession tumbled out, a torrent of panicked words. “He paid me to forge Arthur’s signature. He gave me specific instructions. He wanted the date to appear legitimate, after Arthur’s alleged decline began. He was planning to sell the entire underground network to the Triads for twelve million dollars. The internal safe deposit infrastructure. He needed undisputed control.”
Twist: Elias Croft breaks under interrogation by Hicks and admits to forging Arthur’s signature on the 2018 deed.
Marcus exploded. “Liar! He’s lying! This man is a known fraudster, Sikes! He’s just trying to save his own skin!”
Sikes merely raised a hand, silencing Marcus. His gaze remained fixed on Croft. “And the twelve million to the Triads? Is that accurate?”
Croft nodded frantically. “Yes! He showed me the preliminary contracts. Cash in unmarked accounts. He was going to disappear after the sale.”
The revelation hung heavy in the air. Not just a simple land grab, but a betrayal of syndicate assets, a high-stakes sale to a rival network. Marcus wasn’t just usurping me; he was bleeding the syndicate dry.
+ There are no comments
Add yours