Chapter 8: Gerald Holt's Confession
"Mrs.
Voss," Gerald said.
"I hope I'm not calling at a bad time."
"You're not," I said.
"How did you get this number?"
"Adrian's assistant.
She called me this morning to warn me that Adrian was planning to contact the other LPs directly and offer them a side arrangement to freeze you out of the acquisition." A pause.
"She wanted me to know before he got to me."
I sat up straighter.
"His assistant called you."
"Her name is Petra.
She's been with the firm for six years." Another pause.
"She also told me she has copies of the internal communications between Adrian and the shell company directors.
She's been keeping them.
She said she didn't know what they were for at the time, but she kept them anyway."
The room felt very still again.
"Why?" I said.
"She said—" Gerald stopped.
Cleared his throat.
"She said she watched him treat you at the firm's Christmas dinner two years ago.
She said she went home that night and started keeping records.
She didn't know if she'd ever need them.
She just thought someone should."
I pressed my hand flat against the blanket.
"She needs to speak to my attorney," I said.
"I told her that.
She's willing.
She also said—" He paused again, and this time the pause was longer.
"She said she's sorry she didn't do something sooner."
I didn't answer immediately.
"Tell her it's enough that she's doing it now," I said.
"I will." Gerald was quiet for a moment.
"Mrs.
Voss.
I owe you an apology."
"You don't—"
"I do.
I've been investing in Adrian's fund for four years.
I did my due diligence on the numbers.
I did not do my due diligence on the man." His voice was measured, but something underneath it was not.
"I was in that house last night.
I saw you on those stairs.
I knew something was wrong long before last night, and I told myself it wasn't my business."
"It wasn't," I said.
"No.
But it should have been." He exhaled.
"I'm going to cooperate fully with the financial crimes investigation.
I'm going to recommend that the other LPs do the same.
And I'm going to make sure that when this is over, the firm — whatever is left of it — is handled in a way that protects the investors Adrian defrauded."
"Thank you," I said.
"One more thing." His voice shifted slightly.
"Adrian called me an hour ago.
He offered me a private settlement.
Full repayment of my capital, plus fifteen percent, if I withdrew my cooperation with the investigation and signed a statement saying the transfers were pre-approved."
My hand tightened on the phone.
"What did you say?"
"I said I'd think about it," Gerald said.
"And then I called you."
The line was quiet.
"He's trying to buy his way out," I said.
"Yes.
Which means he's scared." A pause.
"I thought you should know what he's offering.
And I thought you should know I'm not taking it."
"Mr.
Holt—"
"Gerald."
"Gerald." I stopped.
Started again.
"Why are you telling me all of this?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"Because you held yourself together last night in a way that most people couldn't have managed," he said.
"And because my daughter is thirty-one years old and I would want someone to make that call if it were her."
I looked at the monitors.
Two lines.
Steady.
"I'll have my attorney reach out to you today," I said.
"I'll be available."
We hung up.
Ruth was watching me.
"Petra," I said.
"Adrian's assistant.
She's been keeping records for two years."
Ruth's mouth opened slightly.
"And Gerald turned down Adrian's bribe," I said.
"And called me to report it."
Ruth sat back.
"So he tried to bribe a witness," she said.
"Yes."
"That's—"
"Another charge," I said.
"Yes."
Ruth looked at the ceiling for a moment.
Then back at me.
"Mara," she said.
"I think he just kjlled his own case."
"I think he did," I said.
I called Diane.
She answered on the second ring.
"Gerald Holt just reported that Adrian offered him a financial settlement in exchange for withdrawing cooperation from the investigation," I said.
"And Adrian's assistant has two years of internal communications she's been keeping privately.
Her name is Petra.
She's willing to speak to you."
Diane was silent for exactly three seconds.
"I'm canceling my noon meeting," she said.
"I'll be back at the hospital in forty minutes."
"There's one more thing," I said.
"What?"
"Adrian is calling the other LPs right now.
Trying to get them to sign statements and freeze me out of the acquisition."
"How many LPs?"
"Seven, besides Gerald."
"I'll have letters to all seven by end of day," Diane said.
"Mara — he's panicking.
Panicking people make mistakes.
Let him make them."
She hung up.
I set the phone down.
Outside the window, the morning had gone fully bright.
The kind of clean, sharp winter light that makes everything look like it's been freshly cut.
Ruth handed me a piece of toast from the breakfast tray the nurse had left an hour ago, untouched.
May you like
"Eat," she said.
I ate.
