CHAPTER SEVEN The Signature of a Dead Man
The document stated that Samuel Carter had sold his Holloway shares nine years after his funeral.
The signature was an excellent imitation.
But Margaret had made one mistake.
Samuel’s middle initial was wrong.
His name had been Samuel Joseph Carter.
The transfer document identified him as Samuel James Carter.
Rebecca contacted a forensic document examiner.
Martin Bell located the original trust records.
The company’s transfer agent was ordered to preserve every file associated with Samuel’s shares.
By evening, we had proof that the transfer was fraudulent.
But the forgery created a new problem.
Holloway Select had relied on the false transfer for years. Shares had been issued, loans had been obtained, and assets had been pledged.
Exposing the fraud could threaten the entire company.
“That is what Margaret is counting on,” Rebecca said. “She believes regulators and investors will protect the company by burying what she did.”
“Will they?” Hannah asked.
“Some may try.”
The memory card contained hundreds of files, but many were encrypted.
A folder named FOUNDER ACCOUNTS required a password.
Hannah tried Grant’s birthday.
Margaret’s birthday.
The date of their wedding.
Nothing worked.
I stared at the password field.
Then I remembered Samuel’s letter.
Margaret Holloway believes money can rewrite history.
I typed:
HISTORYCANNOTBEREWRITTEN
The folder opened.
Inside were scanned ledgers showing decades of payments to shell vendors.
Some companies belonged to Holloway executives.
Others did not appear to exist.
There were also inspection reports marked with handwritten notes.
PAY.
DELAY.
REPLACE.
The records suggested that Holloway Select had paid officials to ignore sanitation violations at multiple warehouses.
One report described spoiled meat being relabeled and sold after its expiration date.
Hannah looked sick.
“People could have gotten hurt.”
“They may have,” Rebecca said.
A spreadsheet listed confidential settlements with families who had reported illnesses.
Grant’s name appeared on several approvals.
Margaret’s appeared on all of them.
We sent copies to federal investigators, state regulators, and the Illinois attorney general.
We also gave a copy to Evan Brooks, an investigative reporter who had been a regular customer at Carter’s Table since college.
“You understand what happens when this publishes?” he asked.
“The Holloways will attack you,” I said.
“I was talking about you.”
“They already burned my kitchen.”
Evan studied me for a moment.
Then he closed his laptop.
“The story runs tomorrow morning.”
At 6:00 a.m., Holloway Select Markets became the lead story across Chicago.
By 6:30, trading in the company’s merger partner was halted.
By 7:00, state inspectors had entered three Holloway warehouses.
At 7:20, Grant called Hannah.
She did not answer.
At 7:22, he sent a message.
YOU JUST DESTROYED THOUSANDS OF LIVES.
Hannah typed a response.
No. You did.
Before she could send it, another email appeared.
It came from a woman named Claire Dalton.
The subject line read:
I KNOW WHERE THE ORIGINAL LEDGER IS.
Claire claimed she had served as Holloway Select’s financial controller for eleven years.
She had resigned after Grant forced her to alter corporate records.
She requested a private meeting at a coffee shop near Union Station.
Rebecca warned us it could be a trap.
We contacted investigators and arranged surveillance.
Claire never arrived.
Thirty minutes after the meeting time, Hannah received an automated email from her.
If you are reading this, they found me first.
Look beneath Store 18.
Do not trust the police officer with the silver watch.
May you like
At that exact moment, a police detective entered the coffee shop.
A silver watch gleamed beneath his sleeve.
