“A signature is a signature,” he said. “The bank didn’t care about the dosage of your pain medication.”

The radiator in the corner of the room began to hiss.

Steam rattled through the old pipes.

“And Clara Bennett?” I asked. “Did she help you forge the rest?”

Daniel’s eyes flickered, a brief flash of irritation crossing his face.

“Clara is a sensible woman,” he said. “She understood what was at stake.”

“She lost her husband,” I said.

“Her husband was weak,” Daniel said. “He was going to ruin the merger.”

He looked around the empty studio, his gaze lingering on the exposed brick.

“We built an empire, Emily,” he said. “I did not let Arthur Bennett ruin it, and I am not going to let you ruin it with a few tubes of paint.”

“By calling me crazy,” I said.

“By proving it,” he said.

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook.

“I have the dates,” he said. “I have the pharmacy receipts.”

He tapped the notebook against his palm.