His voice trembled slightly, but he kept his eyes on Dr. Halloran.

“And I have the logs from the private clinic where the synthetic compounds were ordered,” Evan added.

Halloran let out a weak, rattling breath.

He sank to his knees on the cold gravel, his hands still hovering near his head.

“You don’t know the whole story, Lorenzo,” Halloran whispered.

“I know enough to ensure you never see the sun as a free man,” Lorenzo said.

He slowly lowered the pistol, but he did not put it back into his holster.

One of the investigators stepped forward, pulling a pair of steel handcuffs from his belt.

“Julian Halloran, you are under arrest,” the investigator said.

The metal clicked as it locked around Halloran’s wrists.

The sound was sharp, final, and small against the vastness of the estate.

Halloran did not look up as they pulled him to his feet.

His expensive wool coat was covered in dirt and dry leaves from the driveway.

“The assistant, Morris, gave us everything,” the second investigator said, looking at Lorenzo.