Chapter 4 - THE MAN WHO TAUGHT ARTHUR THE RULES
Anthony Costello arrived for breakfast at eight-thirty as though nothing in the world had changed.
Sixty-seven.
Silver hair.
Tailored navy suit.
Arthur’s father’s brother.
The man who took Arthur to his first baseball game.
The man who taught him which fork to use at formal dinners and which men never deserved a second warning.
Norah remained out of sight in the service pantry.
Arthur insisted.
She hated it.
He argued she was not part of the confrontation.
She argued her father’s name was in every ledger.
They compromised.
Door open.
She could hear everything.
Anthony poured coffee.
“You look like hell.”
Arthur sat across from him.
“Long night.”
“I heard about Victor.”
Of course he had.
Anthony added sugar.
“He got greedy.”
Arthur watched him.
“How do you know?”
Anthony stopped stirring.
“Know what?”
“That Victor was stealing.”
Everyone in the room became still.
Anthony smiled.
“Because you called me last week asking about port discrepancies.”
True.
Arthur had begun investigating Victor.
Someone had directed suspicion exactly where it needed to go.
Arthur placed one photocopied ledger page on the table.
Not original.
Never original.
Anthony looked down.
Nothing changed in his face.
“Old accounting.”
“Your initials.”
“Could be anyone’s.”
“Meridian Benefit Administration.”
That did it.
Tiny.
Almost invisible.
But Norah saw Anthony’s hand stop.
Arthur saw it too.
“What was Meridian?”
“Benefits contractor.”
“Who owned it?”
“No idea.”
Arthur slid another page.
Corporate registration.
Meridian Benefit Administration.
Original beneficial owner:
Anthony Charles Costello.
The silence became heavy.
Anthony leaned back.
“Your father knew.”
“About the company?”
“Yes.”
“About the missing money?”
Anthony did not answer.
Arthur’s voice cooled.
“My father knew?”
“Salvatore knew we moved money.”
Norah stepped out before anyone could stop her.
“From sick employees?”
Anthony looked toward her.
Then at Arthur.
“So this is the maid.”
Norah felt the room sharpen.
Arthur said:
“Answer her.”
Anthony smiled without warmth.
“Your father was Daniel Calloway.”
Not a question.
“You knew him.”
“He was irritating.”
“He was right.”
“Sometimes.”
“What happened to my mother’s medical coverage?”
Anthony looked at her as though evaluating an inconvenience.
“That was twenty years ago.”
Norah’s hands clenched.
Arthur’s voice became very quiet.
“Careful.”
Anthony glanced at him.
There.
Family tension.
Power shifting.
Then Anthony said:
“Meridian was temporary. Your father’s company needed liquidity.”
Arthur stared.
“You took pension and health money to cover operating losses.”
“We borrowed it.”
“Did you replace it?”
“Most.”
Most.
Norah thought of her mother dying with collection notices stacked beside the bed.
Then Anthony added:
“Daniel threatened to report us.”
“What stopped him?”
Norah asked.
Anthony looked at her.
“Your father.”
Arthur frowned.
“Salvatore?”
Anthony nodded.
“Salvatore bought Daniel’s silence.”
Norah’s stomach turned.
“My father would never—”
Anthony reached into his briefcase.
Pulled out an old agreement.
Signed by Daniel Calloway.
Settlement amount:
$2,400,000.
Norah stared.
Her father had supposedly taken millions.
Yet died in a rented duplex leaving unpaid medical bills.
Anthony smiled.
“Ask yourself where the money went.”
Then Arthur looked at the signature.
May you like
And said:
“This is forged.”
