Chapter 9: The Collapse of Marcus Webb
The formal investigation opened on a Thursday morning, thirty-one hours after Garrett filed.
Logan found out from a news alert on his phone.
*Financial crimes unit opens inquiry into Webb-Harlan Capital Partners.* He read the first paragraph and set his phone face-down on the desk.
He didn't read the rest.
Marcus called four times that morning.
Logan let each call go to voicemail.
On the fourth message, the easy warmth was gone entirely.
*"You have no idea what you've started.
You think those records tell the whole story?
You think Nora Chen is clean?
I have documentation that will bury you and your father both, and I will use it.
Call me back, Logan.
This is your last chance to manage this together."*
Logan forwarded the voicemail to Garrett without listening to it a second time.
At eleven o'clock, Cara's attorney delivered the verified recordings to the financial crimes unit.
Logan wasn't in the room for that.
Garrett was.
He called Logan afterward.
"They're genuine," Garrett said.
"Eighteen months of conversations.
Marcus directing the account structure, approving each transfer, instructing her on how to keep Logan unaware.
He uses your name repeatedly.
He discusses the signature forgery explicitly."
"Explicitly."
"His exact words, in one recording, are: *Logan will never look at the authorization files.
He trusts me completely.
That's the whole point.*"
Logan sat with that for a moment.
"When do they move on him?" Logan asked.
"They executed a warrant on the company offices this morning.
They've already pulled the servers." A pause.
"His attorney filed for an emergency injunction to block the server seizure.
It was denied forty minutes ago."
"And Marcus himself?"
"He was taken in for questioning at ten this morning." Garrett's voice was even.
"He has not been formally charged yet.
That will depend on what they find on the servers.
But given what Nora documented and what the recordings confirm, his attorney is already asking about cooperation terms."
Logan looked out his office window.
The city was going about its business below — ordinary, indifferent, unchanged.
"What about the company?" Logan asked.
"What's left of it?"
"The legitimate operating accounts are frozen pending investigation.
The business is effectively suspended." Garrett paused.
"I won't pretend otherwise.
The recovery will be long and the company may not survive it in its current form.
But your personal exposure is resolved.
The forensic signature analysis is conclusive.
Your name is clear."
Logan nodded, even though Garrett couldn't see it.
"Your father's name is also clear," Garrett added.
"I thought you'd want to hear that separately."
"I did.
Thank you."
After the call, Logan sat at his desk for a long time without moving.
The company his father had built over thirty years.
The office on Clement Street above the dry cleaner.
The photograph of his mother on the wall.
The Christmas morning in the scattered photographs on the hardwood floor.
His phone lit up.
A text from a number he didn't recognize.
*I know you think you won.
You should ask Garrett what he found on the server under my personal partition.
The folder marked LH-Personal.
Ask him what's in it.
Then tell me again that you've won.*
Logan stared at the message.
He called Garrett.
"I just received a text from an unknown number," Logan said.
"Marcus.
He's telling me to ask you about a folder on the server.
LH-Personal."
A silence on the other end that lasted just long enough to be significant.
"Garrett."
"I was going to call you this afternoon," Garrett said.
"The investigators flagged it this morning.
I wanted to review it before I spoke to you."
"What's in it?"
Another pause.
"Photographs," Garrett said.
"And correspondence.
Going back four years." He stopped.
"Logan, I need you to prepare yourself.
Some of what's in that folder involves your father.
Before the company.
May you like
Before the business." A careful breath.
"There are things in there your father has not told you."
