Chapter 6 - A Founder’s Lie
Agnes had told no one at Sterling Crown she was coming.
That narrowed the possibilities.
She had told her daughter.
Her doctor.
And one former employee named Samuel Pike, now eighty-three, who had worked as a porter at Sterling House in 1979.
Claire found Samuel in Henderson.
He agreed to meet.
Samuel remembered Agnes immediately.
“You finally opened the token?”
Agnes stared.
“You knew?”
“I knew Arthur gave you something.”
Edward leaned forward.
“What did my father tell you?”
Samuel smiled sadly.
“Mr. Sterling told everybody different amounts of truth.”
He remembered the west-service fire.
He remembered Raymond shouting that Walter had stolen money.
He remembered Arthur meeting privately with Nevada gaming investigators the next morning.
“What did he tell them?” Claire asked.
“That Raymond manipulated vendor accounts.”
Victor, allowed to attend only as a civilian witness, clenched his jaw.
Samuel continued.
“I heard Arthur tell Walter, ‘I saved you once. There will not be twice.’”
Edward whispered, “Saved him.”
Agnes nodded.
“Arthur knew.”
Samuel also remembered the C-17 boxes being moved in 1986.
“Not emptied. Moved to a deeper shelf.”
“Why?”
“Arthur got nervous when a reporter started asking about Raymond.”
Edward asked, “What reporter?”
“Dead now.”
Everyone seemed to be dead.
Walter.
Arthur.
Raymond.
The reporter.
Time had done more to hide the conspiracy than any lawyer.
Claire asked whether anyone else knew.
Samuel thought.
“Charles.”
Edward looked sharply at him.
“Charles was fourteen during the fire.”
“Later.”
“When?”
“After Walter got sick.”
Walter Sterling died in 1998.
Samuel had been working maintenance then.
“Charles came with his father one night. Walter took him downstairs.”
“To C-17?”
“I don’t know. Same corridor.”
Edward sat back.
The scandal had not ended with the founders.
It had been inherited.
That afternoon Sterling Crown’s board convened.
Charles joined from New York.
His strategy was simple.
Attack Agnes.
“She accepted money.”
Agnes was not present.
Edward disliked that Charles sounded relieved about it.
“She signed a sworn statement,” Charles continued. “Now forty-seven years later she produces a theatrical token and claims our fathers committed crimes.”
Claire’s preliminary authentication suggested the paper and ink were consistent with 1979.
Charles dismissed it.
“Consistent is not authentic.”
Then he shifted.
“We close Orpheus in twenty-six days.”
One board member, Lillian Cho, asked, “Has Orpheus been informed?”
Edward hesitated.
That was all Charles needed.
“No.”
Lillian looked at him.
“Why?”
“We learned about this less than twelve hours ago.”
“Then inform them now.”
Charles interrupted.
“Inform them of what? An allegation?”
Claire watched Edward.
This was the moment Agnes had predicted.
Money versus disclosure.
Edward said, “We will complete an internal review first.”
Claire’s face tightened.
Charles smiled.
The vote was four to three.
Forty-eight hours for internal assessment before notifying Orpheus or regulators, unless current criminal conduct was found.
Agnes learned about the decision from Claire.
She came directly to Edward’s office.
“You did it.”
“Did what?”
“Bought yourself silence.”
“For forty-eight hours.”
“Arthur probably called it one night.”
Edward stood.
“You think running a regulated company means calling the Gaming Control Board every time someone walks in with an old story?”
“No.”
Agnes placed the founder’s token on his desk.
“I think finding evidence your family hid an arson conspiracy is slightly more than an old story.”
Edward looked at it.
“I need facts.”
“You have your father’s handwriting.”
“I have a note.”
“You have Heritage payments.”
“Which may have explanations.”
“Your cousin’s company paid Marcus Lane.”
“Not his company.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No.”
Agnes leaned closer.
“That is the first honest thing you have said.”
Edward’s anger flared.
“Do not confuse caution with corruption.”
“Then don’t confuse money with responsibility.”
She walked out.
Edward remained standing.
On his desk lay Arthur’s token.
Beside it, the Orpheus transaction binder.
Two inheritances.
Two versions of what protecting Sterling meant.
Then his phone rang.
Claire.
“I found the beneficial owner behind Heritage Restoration.”
Edward sat.
“Who?”
“Not Charles directly.”
He exhaled.
“Who?”
“A Delaware holding company called WM Legacy.”
Edward knew the initials before she spoke.
Walter Michael Sterling.
His uncle’s name.
Claire continued.
“WM Legacy is owned by a trust.”
“Beneficiary?”
May you like
A pause.
“Charles Sterling.”
