Chapter 8: What Victor Said
Victor Hale talked for four hours.
He began with the small things — the notary, the documents, the forged signature — and worked his way backward through three years of careful planning until the investigators had a timeline that stretched further than any of them had expected.
It stretched all the way back to Eleanor.
The lead investigator, a quiet man named Graves, came to Edward's study just before two in the morning.
He knocked twice and waited.
"Come in," Edward said.
He had been sitting at his desk with Eleanor's letter open in front of him.
He had read it four times.
He didn't fold it when Graves entered.
Graves sat down across from him.
He set a notepad on the desk.
"Victor Hale has provided a full statement," Graves said.
"In exchange for consideration on his own charges, he has confirmed the following."
Edward nodded.
"He and Diane had a prior relationship beginning approximately seven years ago.
Before you met her.
Before Eleanor d*ed." Graves looked at his notes.
"Victor identified you as a target — his word — approximately eight years ago, following the dissolution of your business partnership.
He believed he had been cheated.
He wanted financial restitution and — he used the phrase — he wanted you to lose something the way he felt he had lost something."
Edward's face was still.
"Diane was recruited," Graves continued.
"She was not a random introduction.
Victor knew her through a mutual acquaintance and approached her with a proposal.
She would be introduced to you, build a relationship, and when the time was right, the two of them would split the estate."
"And Eleanor," Edward said.
Graves paused.
"Victor claims he had no direct involvement in Eleanor's illness.
He says that was Diane acting alone.
He says he didn't know the extent of what she was doing until it was already done."
"Do you believe him?"
"No," Graves said.
"But what he's confirmed is enough to open a formal investigation into Eleanor's d*ath.
We'll be requesting an exhumation order."
The word landed in the room and stayed there.
Edward looked at Eleanor's letter.
"She knew," he said.
"She wrote it down.
She left it with Ruth because she knew no one in this house would keep it safe." He paused.
"She was trying to protect me even while she was frightened for herself."
Graves didn't speak.
"How long did she know?" Edward asked.
"Based on the dates in her record, we believe she began noticing symptoms approximately five months before her d*ath.
The entries become more frequent in the final two months."
Five months.
Edward sat with that.
"She never said a word to me," he said.
"The letter addresses that," Graves said carefully.
"I know." Edward looked at the page.
"She says she was afraid I would confront Diane directly.
That I would give Diane the chance to deny it and make Eleanor look unstable.
She was protecting me from making a mistake." He set the letter down.
"She was always thinking three steps ahead."
"Mr.
Edward," Graves said.
"I want to be straightforward with you.
The investigation into Eleanor's d*ath will take time.
It may be painful.
There will be questions about the original medical findings, about who had access to her, about the household during those months.
You will be interviewed.
People who worked here at the time will be interviewed."
"I understand," Edward said.
"It may not end with a clean answer."
"I know," Edward said.
"I want it done anyway."
Graves nodded.
He picked up his notepad and stood.
"One more thing," he said.
"Diane has been formally charged tonight.
Attempted homicide.
Document fraud.
Conspiracy." He paused.
"Her lawyer is already building a defense around coercion — that Victor pressured her, that she was afraid of him."
"Is there any evidence of that?"
"None so far," Graves said.
"Victor's statement directly contradicts it.
He says the p0isoning was her idea.
He says he tried to talk her out of it."
"Of course he did," Edward said.
"Yes," Graves said.
"Of course he did."
He moved toward the door.
"Get some sleep," he said.
"There's nothing more you can do tonight."
After he left, Edward sat alone in the study for a long time.
He looked at Eleanor's handwriting on the letter.
The careful loops of her letters.
The way she had pressed slightly harder on the pen toward the end, as if she was running out of time and knew it.
He folded the letter gently and placed it in the inside pocket of his jacket, close to where he had kept it all evening.
Then he turned off the desk lamp and sat in the dark for a while.
Not thinking.
May you like
Not planning.
Just sitting with the weight of what he now knew, and what he wished he had known sooner, and the strange, quiet fact that he was alive to know it at all.
