Arthur looked tired, his grey hair damp from the autumn rain and his shoulders slumped.

“That is enough, Miller,” Arthur said.

Miller lowered his hand and nodded once to his partner in the hallway.

“Arthur,” I said, holding the briefcase tighter against my side. “You sent them.”

“I had to protect the firm, Clara,” Arthur said, leaning heavily on his silver-handled cane. “Ethan has ruined us. If those files go public, the Lawson Vance name is worthless.”

“The name is already worthless,” I said. “And these papers are mine.”

Arthur looked at the briefcase, then at my face.

“He took five million dollars from the client escrow accounts, Clara,” Arthur said. “The regulators are already freezing his personal accounts.”

“Then it is a good thing these assets were transferred to my name yesterday,” I said.

I pulled the signed quitclaim deeds and the trust agreements from the outer pocket of the bag.

“They were notarized before the freeze,” I said.

Arthur sighed, his eyes sinking into the deep wrinkles of his face.

“He will go to prison, Clara.”

“I know,” I said.

“And you?” he asked.