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CHAPTER 108: THE PRICE
Julian called the six sisters to the sitting room of the orphanage at eight in the morning, which was unusual because Julian never called meetings. He just sat in the corner chair and peeled potatoes, and people came to him when they needed something.But today was different.The six sisters arrived. They sat at the round table. They poured their bad tea. They waited.Julian was standing by the window, looking out at the garden. He did not turn around when they came in. He just stood there, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders tense in a way they had never seen before.After a long moment, he turned."I'm going to sign the declaration," he said.Silence.Victoria leaned forward. "When.""Tomorrow," Julian said. "At ten in the morning. At the High Court."Silence.Eleanor spoke first. "You've decided.""I've decided," Julian said."But the declaration—""I know what it says," Julian said. "I know what it will do. I know that after tomorrow, I will be remembered as the orphan who sto
CHAPTER 107: THE CLAUSE
Eleanor had spent twenty years reading contracts. She had read merger agreements, partnership deeds, shareholder pacts, trust instruments. She had read them all, and she had learned that every contract had a structure—a preamble, a body, a schedule, and then, buried in the fine print, the thing that could destroy everything.She had found the thing.It was buried in Schedule 7, Paragraph 14(b) of the Hartwell Family Trust, a clause so densely written that it took her three readings to understand what it said. And when she finally understood, she sat in her office at the villa for a long time, staring at the page, staring at the words, staring at the thing that could destroy everything Julian had built.The clause was titled: ‘Condition Precedent to Distribution.’It said, in essence, that before any distribution of trust assets could be made to the Hartwell heirs, the trustee (Julian) was required to execute a formal declaration—a legal document, witnessed and notarized—acknowledging
CHAPTER 106: THE ELDEST
Siska found Robert Hartwell in a pub in Camden, which was not where she expected to find a man who was trying to take over a billion-pound empire, but then again, she had learned in the last ten months that people were rarely where she expected them to be. Robert was sixty-one. He was sitting at a corner table with a pint of bitter and a plate of untouched chips. He wore a jacket that had been expensive once and was now worn at the elbows. His hair was grey, his face was lined, and his hands—the hands Siska noticed first, because that was what detectives did—were shaking. Not from alcohol. From something else. Siska walked to the table. She did not flash her badge. She did not announce herself. She just sat down across from him, the way she had learned to sit at the round table in the orphanage kitchen—without talking, without performing, just being there. Robert looked up. His eyes were the color of ol
CHAPTER 105: THE TRUTH
The six sisters arrived at the orphanage at nine in the morning, and Julian was in the kitchen, peeling potatoes, which was not surprising because Julian was always in the kitchen peeling potatoes at nine in the morning.They walked in. They hung their coats. They poured their bad tea. They sat at the round table.Julian looked up. He looked at them. He didn't say anything. He just went back to peeling potatoes.They sat for ten minutes. They didn't speak. They didn't move. They just watched him peel potatoes, and they listened to the sound of the peeler against the potato, and they waited.Then Eleanor stood up. She walked to the corner chair. She sat down across from Julian. She placed the folder of letters on the table between them.Julian looked at the folder. He didn't reach for it. He just looked at it."I found something," Eleanor said.Julian set down the peeler. He looked at Eleanor. His face did not soften. It did not harden. It simply waited."I know," he said.Eleanor star
CHAPTER 104: THE LETTERS
Arthur gave Eleanor the key to the cabinet in his office at eleven in the morning, which was unusual because Arthur did not give keys to anyone."They're in the bottom drawer," he said. "Letters. Photographs. Notes. Mr. Hartwell kept everything. I organized it after he died."Eleanor looked at the key. "Why are you giving me this?""Because Julian told me to," Arthur said. "And because you need to understand before you can help."He walked out. Eleanor stood in the office for a long moment, holding the key, looking at the cabinet.Then she opened it.The bottom drawer was full of folders, each one labeled in Mr. Hartwell's handwriting. *ROBERT HARTWELL. CLAIRE HARTWELL. THOMAS HARTWELL. ELIZABETH HARTWELL.*Eleanor pulled out the first folder. *ROBERT HARTWELL.*Inside were letters. Dozens of them. Some written by Robert, some written by Mr. Hartwell. Some dated as far back as 1965.Eleanor sat down at Arthur's desk. She opened the first letter.It was from Robert Hartwell, dated 1965
CHAPTER 103: THE STRATEGY
The six sisters gathered in the sitting room of the villa at eight in the morning, which was unusual because they had never once gathered at eight in the morning in twenty years. They had always gathered at noon, or at dinner, or when there was a crisis that required their collective attention.But this was a crisis. And they were ready.Victoria stood at the head of the table—not because she was the head, but because she had brought the whiteboard, and the whiteboard needed to be seen."Right," she said. "We have six weeks to prepare for the full trial. The defendants are going to come back with more evidence. They're going to try to prove that Julian unduly influenced Mr. Hartwell. They're going to try to prove that the trust is invalid. We need to be ready."She picked up a marker. She wrote *HARTWELL HEIRS* on the whiteboard."Eleanor. You're doing legal research. Find everything you can on the defendants. Their financial history. Their relationship with Mr. Hartwell. Any prior li
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