Chapter 4 - The Prosecutor Tried to Shut Down the Investigation—So I Exposed the One Secret That Could Destroy HimThe prosecutor arrived at my office the following morning.
His name was James Holloway.
He carried himself like a man accustomed to getting what he wanted.
“I understand you've been interfering with my investigation.”
I smiled.
“No.”
“I've heard you've been conducting your own surveillance.”
“I have.”
“That is illegal.”
“Probably.”
He frowned.
“You think you're untouchable?”
“No.”
I leaned back.
“I think you're compromised.”
His face changed.
Only slightly.
But I noticed.
I pushed the flash drive across the desk.
“Your offshore account.”
He didn't touch it.
“Your payments from Kane.”
Silence.
“The hotel room recordings.”
He stood.
“You have no idea what you're doing.”
I smiled.
“Sit down.”
He did.
I told him what would happen.
He would cooperate.
He would testify.
He would help us identify everyone Kane had compromised.
And in exchange, the federal government would consider his cooperation.
He stared at me.
“You're threatening a federal prosecutor.”
“No.”
I looked him directly in the eye.
“I'm offering you the opportunity to become useful.”
Two days later, Holloway confessed.
The corruption went far deeper than we expected.
Kane had spent years building an invisible network.
He didn't control people through guns.
He controlled them through secrets.
Debt.
Fear.
Family.
And Victor had been one of his easiest targets.
But Kane made one mistake.
He underestimated Emily.
She had kept a small notebook.
For eighteen months.
Every date.
Every payment.
Every visitor.
Every threat.
Every name she remembered.
The notebook contained enough information to connect Kane to almost everything.
But there was one final page.
It contained an address.
A warehouse in Philadelphia.
Marcus looked at me.
“Kane?”
I nodded.
“Probably.”
We prepared to move.
Then my phone rang.
It was Emily.
Her voice trembled.
“Daniel?”
“What happened?”
“I remember something.”
“What?”
“The night Victor first hurt me.”
I waited.
“He wasn't alone.”
“Who was with him?”
Emily whispered a name.
“Richard Kane.”
Then she added:
“He called someone on the phone.”
“Who?”
“I heard him say one sentence.”
“What sentence?”
Emily took a breath.
“He said, 'The Mercer boy still doesn't know who he really is.'”
I froze.
The Mercer boy.
May you like
Me.
There was something about my past Kane knew that I didn't.
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