Chapter 6 - THE $6.3 MILLION LIE
“Transfer approved tonight?”
Anthony's voice was dangerously quiet.
Claudia stared at the photograph.
“That wasn't part of the original painting.”
Emily nodded.
“Exactly.”
I looked between them.
“What do you mean?”
Emily pointed toward the red lettering.
“Daniel completed the first version before I reported the clinic. Someone added those words later.”
Daniel examined the photograph.
Then typed.
NOT MY RED.
He used warm crimson for most of his red details.
The lettering in the photograph was a dull brownish shade.
“Somebody altered his painting?” Anthony asked.
“Or made an altered copy,” Emily replied.
Claudia lowered herself into a chair.
“Peter handled the photographic archives. He prepared the acquisition certificates.”
Anthony turned toward her.
“And you gave him access to everything?”
“I trusted him.”
The irony hung between them.
Anthony had trusted Claudia.
Claudia had trusted Peter.
And Daniel had paid the price.
By morning, Thomas had located Margaret Ellis.
She hadn't left New York.
She was living in Brooklyn with her older sister.
Margaret agreed to meet us at the gallery.
When she arrived, Daniel smiled for the first time since the auction.
“Marg... ret.”
She placed a hand over her heart.
“There's my favorite painter.”
Then she kissed his forehead.
“I kept my promise, sweetheart.”
Daniel looked toward the empty storage sleeve.
Margaret nodded.
“The painting is safe.”
Anthony stepped forward.
“Where?”
“Before I answer that, I want to know whether Daniel is finally being treated as the artist he is.”
Anthony glanced toward his son.
“I'm trying to correct what happened.”
Margaret studied him.
“Then ask Daniel whether he wants you involved.”
The room went silent.
Anthony turned toward his son.
“Danny?”
Daniel typed.
YES. BUT LISTEN.
His father nodded.
“I will.”
Margaret explained that she had refused Claudia's destruction order.
Instead, she photographed the canvas, removed its original frame, and sent it to a climate-controlled storage facility under her own name.
She had also preserved samples of the paint layers.
“The red lettering wasn't Daniel's,” she confirmed. “It had been added after he finished the painting.”
Claudia covered her face.
“I thought you destroyed it.”
“I told you I wouldn't.”
Margaret's voice remained calm.
“There's a difference.”
The original painting could prove what Daniel had actually created.
But Margaret had something else.
She opened a small archival folder.
Inside were copies of invoices, gallery correspondence, and payment schedules.
“Peter asked me to alter several paintings before they were photographed for their buyers.”
“Alter them how?” I asked.
“Remove dates. Cover details. Change background objects.”
Emily stepped closer.
“Why?”
Margaret looked at Anthony.
“Because those paintings weren't simply being sold to art collectors.”
Six of the twelve paintings had been purchased by legitimate private collectors.
The other six had been bought through companies connected to the clinic's medical financing program.
The purchases had been made using funds described as research grants and equipment allocations.
Peter had told Margaret that the paintings were part of a private donation arrangement.
But the invoices contained inconsistent amounts.
One company paid $900,000 for a canvas valued internally at $75,000.
Another paid $1.1 million.
Anthony stared at the figures.
“Those payments never belonged in an art transaction.”
Thomas nodded.
“They may have been used to disguise transfers from the clinic.”
Claudia began shaking.
“I didn't know the money came from patient funding.”
Anthony looked at her.
“How much did you take?”
Her voice was barely audible.
“Four hundred and twenty thousand dollars.”
Emily closed her eyes.
Claudia began crying.
“The gallery was failing. I had loans I couldn't cover. Peter told me the anonymous auction would save everything.”
“And Daniel?” Anthony asked.
“I told myself he would benefit.”
“Did you ask him?”
Claudia couldn't answer.
Margaret opened a second folder.
“There's another reason I kept the original.”
She removed a close-up photograph of the painting's lower corner.
Daniel had used a palette knife to build a raised blue border.
Within that border were thirteen tiny marks.
Emily leaned forward.
“He used those marks as a counting system.”
“For what?” Anthony asked.
“People,” Daniel typed.
Emily looked at him.
“Were there other patients?”
Daniel nodded.
Margaret turned the photograph over.
On the back, she had written the locations of thirteen small symbols found beneath the painting's final paint layer.
They resembled bracelets.
Each had a number.
Emily counted them.
Then stopped.
“Daniel, did you see thirteen people receiving the same treatment?”
He nodded again.
Anthony looked devastated.
“What happened to them?”
Emily spoke quietly.
“We don't know yet.”
Claudia suddenly reached toward Margaret's paperwork.
“Wait.”
She pulled out a payment schedule.
One entry had been highlighted in yellow.
PROJECT COMPLETION — FINAL DISBURSEMENT: $2,400,000.
The transfer was scheduled for Friday.
And beneath it was the name of the person authorized to approve payment.
Not Dr. Keene.
Not Peter Lang.
CLAUDIA SANTORO.
Anthony stared at his sister.
“Claudia, what happens on Friday?”
She looked up, terrified.
“They close the program.”
“Close it how?”
May you like
Claudia whispered.
“They're transferring every patient record out of the clinic.”
