Chapter 8 - The Confrontation
The visitor’s room at Rikers Island was cold and smelled of bleach. I sat behind the thick plexiglass, waiting.
Arthur was led out in an orange jumpsuit. The tailored suits and expensive cologne were gone. He looked old, frail, and hollow. But his eyes still held that arrogant, venomous spark.
He picked up the phone. "Come to gloat, Clara? You may have the company, but it's bleeding money. You'll fail. You were always just a secretary."
I picked up the receiver. I didn't look angry. I looked right through him.
"I found the false bottom in Julian’s lockbox," I said softly.
Arthur’s eyes twitched. The color drained from his face.
"I have the audio recording, Arthur. The one where you threatened to have his brakes cut. The one that proves premeditated murder."
He dropped the phone, taking a step back from the glass, shaking his head. He looked like a man who had just seen a ghost.
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I leaned closer to the glass. "You thought I was weak. You thought because I didn't yell and scream, I didn't have power. But I have the company. I have my daughter. And now, I have the evidence to ensure you never breathe free air again."
I stood up, holding his gaze. "I'm giving it to the DA on my way out. You are going to die in a cage, Arthur. And I am going to make sure the world forgets your name."
