Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN WHO SIGNED HIS NAME
“Rebecca knew the railing was loose before Catherine died.”
Gabriel stood in his study, holding the handwritten note from his wife's coat.
Across the room, Rebecca Sterling stared at it.
She had returned to collect her belongings under Miles's supervision.
Gabriel had stopped her before she reached the front door.
“Tell me why Catherine wrote this.”
Rebecca read the note again.
Then she looked toward the windows.
“Where did you find it?”
“That doesn't matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“Catherine is dead, Rebecca. Stop worrying about yourself for five minutes.”
Her eyes filled.
“You think I don't know she's dead?”
Gabriel placed the maintenance invoice on his desk.
“Your name was attached to the staircase work order.”
Rebecca looked down.
“I authorized an inspection.”
“The order says to remove the upper railing fasteners.”
“I never approved that.”
“Then why is my name on it?”
Rebecca pressed her lips together.
Gabriel waited.
Finally, she whispered, “Victor told me to sign it.”
Gabriel felt the room tilt.
“You forged my signature?”
“He said you had already approved the repairs. He said he only needed someone to process the paperwork because you were traveling.”
“And you believed him?”
“I believed him because I was afraid not to.”
Gabriel folded his arms.
“Afraid of what?”
Rebecca looked at the floor.
“Two years ago, the children's foundation was facing an audit. There were payments I couldn't explain.”
“Payments you approved?”
“Yes.”
“Where did the money go?”
“Into accounts Victor controlled. He told me they were temporary transfers.”
She swallowed.
“When I questioned him, he showed me documents with my signature. He said I'd be the one charged if anyone discovered the missing money.”
Gabriel stared at her.
“So you helped him hide it.”
“I thought I could fix things before anyone got hurt.”
“Catherine got hurt.”
Rebecca began crying.
Gabriel didn't comfort her.
“Did you know someone was going to tamper with the railing?”
“I knew Victor wanted Catherine frightened.”
Gabriel went still.
“What does that mean?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“He said Catherine had become reckless. He wanted her to understand what could happen if she kept investigating the family.”
“And you agreed?”
“I didn't think he meant to kill her.”
Gabriel took one step backward.
There it was.
Not a misunderstanding.
Not an accident that Rebecca happened to witness.
She knew Victor intended to frighten Catherine.
And she had helped him.
“Did you loosen the railing?” he asked.
“No.”
“Did you see who did?”
Rebecca shook her head.
“I saw a maintenance worker near the stairs that afternoon. I assumed he was finishing the repairs.”
“Then why didn't you warn Catherine?”
Rebecca began sobbing.
“Because I was angry with her.”
Gabriel stared.
“She had discovered the transfers. She wanted me to tell you everything. I begged her for time.”
“And she refused?”
“She said people were suffering because of that money.”
Rebecca looked up.
“She was right. I know that now.”
Gabriel remembered Catherine's stubborn kindness.
She had been gentle with children, endlessly patient with the elderly, and absolutely merciless when someone exploited people with less power.
He had loved that about her.
And sometimes, shamefully, found it inconvenient.
Rebecca wiped her eyes.
“Catherine told me she wouldn't protect my reputation at the expense of those families.”
Gabriel looked toward his wife's photograph.
“Of course she did.”
Rebecca stepped closer.
“Gabriel, I never wanted her dead.”
He moved away.
“Wanting something and allowing it to happen aren't the same thing.”
She lowered her head.
“I know.”
Gabriel opened the study door.
“Miles will take you to the guesthouse. You'll remain available to the investigators.”
Rebecca stopped.
“Victor won't let you do this.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“Then Victor doesn't know me as well as he thinks.”
After she left, Gabriel sat alone for nearly an hour.
He kept looking at Catherine's note.
The answer was close.
But he still couldn't establish who had physically altered the railing or what happened during the final moments before Catherine fell.
Miles eventually returned with new information.
He had located the maintenance contractor, Harold Pike, a sixty-two-year-old carpenter who had retired the previous year.
Pike agreed to meet at his home outside Metairie.
Gabriel went with Miles.
The old carpenter lived in a modest brick house surrounded by woodworking tools and potted plants.
When Gabriel explained why he had come, Pike looked genuinely distressed.
“I remember your wife,” he said. “Very polite woman.”
Gabriel showed him the invoice.
Pike examined it carefully.
Then shook his head.
“This isn't my work order.”
Gabriel leaned forward.
“What?”
“My company inspected the upper railing. Two mounting screws were loose. I ordered replacements.”
“Did you remove them?”
“No. I tightened what was there and recommended keeping people off the landing until permanent repairs were completed.”
Gabriel felt his pulse quicken.
“Then why does this say the fasteners were removed?”
Pike pointed toward the bottom of the page.
“Someone changed the wording. And that's not my signature.”
Miles photographed the comparison with Pike's own records.
Pike continued.
“I came back the next afternoon because your wife called. She said someone had been working near the railing again.”
“Did you see who?”
“No. But I found the upper bracket loose again.”
Gabriel gripped his knees.
“Did you warn Catherine?”
“Yes. I told her nobody should use that section.”
“Why didn't you repair it?”
“The replacement parts hadn't arrived. I offered to block the staircase.”
“What happened?”
Pike looked troubled.
“A man from your security staff said Mr. Victor wanted the landing left accessible for an evening meeting.”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
The landing had remained dangerous.
Not because the original carpenter forgot his work.
Because someone interfered after the inspection.
Pike went to his garage and returned with an old job folder.
“I kept this because I was never paid the full invoice.”
Inside was a photograph of the railing taken during the first inspection.
Two brass screws showed clearly beneath the wooden handrail.
Pike placed another photograph beside it.
It had been taken the following afternoon.
One screw was missing.
The other had been backed almost completely out.
Gabriel looked at Miles.
“Preserve both originals.”
Pike nodded.
“I'll tell the police whatever I remember.”
That evening, Gabriel returned to find Olivia packing a small bag.
She stood beside the employee entrance, her eyes red.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Home, sir.”
“Is something wrong?”
Olivia hesitated.
Then she handed him a letter.
It was a notice from the estate's employee benefits administrator.
Her health insurance coverage had been marked for termination at the end of the month.
Gabriel read it twice.
“Why?”
“The letter says my position is being eliminated.”
“Who authorized this?”
“Victor's office.”
Gabriel felt anger rise.
Olivia's voice trembled.
“My daughter needs that insurance. I've never missed a shift. I've never been written up.”
“You're not losing your job.”
“Sir, I don't want special treatment.”
“This isn't special treatment. Someone is retaliating against you.”
She looked away.
Gabriel understood.
Victor knew Olivia had helped Benjamin recover Catherine's book.
And now he was threatening her livelihood.
Gabriel called Miles and ordered the cancellation reversed through the legitimate employer immediately.
Then he instructed his business office to separate all employee benefits from Victor's control.
Olivia stared at him.
“Why would your brother do this to me?”
Gabriel's expression hardened.
“Because he thinks everyone has a price.”
The following afternoon, a child trauma specialist met Benjamin in the library.
Gabriel had explained that nobody would force him to talk about his mother.
The specialist used drawing, play, and simple questions.
Benjamin said only a few words.
But before the session ended, he chose three wooden figures and placed them beside a toy staircase.
One represented Catherine.
One represented Victor.
The third represented Rebecca.
Then he used a fourth figure.
He placed it behind the railing.
The specialist asked, “Who's that one?”
Benjamin whispered, “The man.”
Gabriel watched from across the room.
“What man, buddy?”
Benjamin picked up the fourth figure.
He moved it away from the stairs.
Then he drew something on his pad.
A screwdriver.
A man's hand.
And a watch with a dark leather strap.
Gabriel stared at the drawing.
He knew that watch.
Victor wore one almost exactly like it.
But Benjamin shook his head when Gabriel asked whether the man was Uncle Victor.
“No.”
The boy pointed toward the screwdriver.
May you like
Then he said something nobody expected.
“Uncle Victor paid him. I saw the money.”
