“You hired your mistress,” Margaret said.

“You used her firm, Vale Concepts, to invoice the trust for three hundred thousand dollars of work that was never performed.”

“We have the bank records.”

“We have the emails between you and Sloane Vale outlining the kickback scheme.”

The detective reached into his coat and pulled out a pair of metal handcuffs.

“Nathan Vance, you are under arrest for grand larceny, trust fraud, and forgery,” the detective said.

“You have the right to remain silent.”

Nathan’s hands began to shake.

He looked at me, his eyes wide with a mixture of anger and desperation.

“Clara, tell them,” he stammered. “Tell them we agreed to this.”

“I agreed to nothing,” I said.

“Get him out of my room.”

The uniformed officer stepped forward and grabbed Nathan’s arms.

They pulled his hands behind his back.

The metallic click of the handcuffs locking was the loudest sound in the small room.

Nathan did not look like a mastermind anymore.

He looked small, his wet coat clinging to his narrow shoulders as they led him out.

The door closed behind them, muffling his protests.