Chapter 7 - THE DOCTOR WHO SIGNED TWO DEATH SENTENCES
“They aren't trying to make me rest,” Dominic said.
He was still standing in the Fulton warehouse office, holding the emergency board request.
“They're trying to take my company.”
Raphael studied the document.
“The meeting is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.”
“Who called it?”
“Thomas Bell.”
Dominic looked at Elena.
Her face had gone pale.
Ten months earlier, her husband had lost his job after questioning the same man.
Now Dominic was being pushed out of his own business.
Using a medical condition someone might have deliberately created.
“Can you stop the meeting?” Elena asked.
“I can challenge the request,” Dominic replied. “But I need evidence that Thomas acted dishonestly.”
Raphael frowned.
“He has your medical history.”
“Not all of it.”
Dominic reached for his phone.
“Have my physician send the independent test results directly to the board's medical reviewer.”
Raphael nodded.
“And I'll preserve the original documents before Thomas can touch them.”
Elena studied the forged signature.
“What if the board believes him?”
Dominic looked toward the empty space where Mateo's photograph had hung.
“Then we make them listen to the people they ignored.”
Thomas Bell was waiting at the Moretti estate when Dominic returned.
He sat in the study wearing a navy suit and his familiar silver watch.
“Dominic,” he said warmly. “I've been worried sick about you.”
Dominic shut the door.
“Have you?”
Thomas's smile faded.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Fulton Cold Storage.”
Thomas sighed.
“I assume you've heard about the sale.”
“You arranged it without my approval.”
“The business is losing money. I've been advising you to consolidate for months.”
“You also arranged a medical review.”
“Because you're unwell.”
Dominic placed the draft board request on the desk.
“Who told you I was unwell?”
Thomas looked genuinely irritated.
“Everyone can see it. You've been distracted, exhausted, making emotional decisions.”
“Such as?”
“Reopening a ten-month-old employee complaint instead of protecting your company.”
Dominic watched him carefully.
“You remember Mateo Rossi?”
“Of course. The maintenance worker.”
“He said your department was concealing illegal medical shipments.”
Thomas folded his hands.
“He was a troubled employee who misunderstood a complicated distribution arrangement.”
“Then why was his complaint buried?”
“It wasn't buried. It was investigated.”
“By your employees.”
“By qualified people.”
Dominic leaned forward.
“What happened to Mateo's evidence?”
Thomas's expression cooled.
“Dominic, I knew your father longer than you've been alive. I have protected this family through disasters you never knew existed.”
“That wasn't my question.”
“Some decisions have to be made by people willing to bear responsibility for them.”
Dominic stared at him.
For years, he'd heard Thomas use that argument whenever something unpleasant needed explaining.
He used to find it reassuring.
Now it sounded like a warning.
“Did you know Mateo died shortly after losing his job?”
Thomas looked toward the window.
“I heard something about it.”
“He left a wife and a little girl.”
“A tragedy.”
Dominic waited.
Thomas finally met his eyes.
“But tragedy doesn't automatically mean conspiracy.”
“No,” Dominic said. “It doesn't.”
He picked up the documents.
“That's why we're going to find evidence.”
Thomas's face hardened.
“You're making a serious mistake.”
“Then you should have no difficulty proving it.”
That afternoon, Elena found Vanessa sitting alone in the garden.
The blonde woman's engagement ring was still on her finger.
But she looked nothing like the confident woman who had criticized Lily the previous morning.
“Mrs. Rossi,” Vanessa said quietly.
Elena stopped.
“Miss Laurent.”
Vanessa looked down.
“I suppose you hate me.”
“I don't know you well enough to hate you.”
Vanessa gave a bitter little laugh.
“You know enough.”
Elena hesitated.
Then she asked the question that had been troubling her.
“Did you know my husband?”
Vanessa's eyes moved toward the garden gate.
“No.”
“Did you know he worked at Fulton?”
“I only knew about the foundation's shipments.”
Elena watched her.
“Someone put dangerous medicine in Mr. Moretti's drinks. Someone planted a bottle in my room.”
Vanessa stood.
“I didn't plant anything.”
“Then help us find the person who did.”
Vanessa's face tightened.
“You don't understand what could happen if those medical accounts are exposed.”
“What could happen?”
“Care facilities could close. Staff could lose their jobs. People who have nowhere else to go could be abandoned.”
Elena thought about Mateo.
“He worried about people losing their jobs, too.”
Vanessa looked surprised.
“He said that?”
“He said nobody should have to choose between telling the truth and feeding their children.”
For a moment, Vanessa seemed unable to speak.
Then she whispered, “I wish he'd understood how complicated things were.”
Elena stared.
“How do you know what he understood?”
Vanessa looked away.
And Elena realized she'd just heard something important.
That evening, Raphael brought Dominic the medical incapacity documents.
The emergency board request included a physician's preliminary assessment.
Dominic read it carefully.
The doctor claimed he'd observed signs of progressive cognitive impairment.
But Dominic had never been examined by that physician.
“Who wrote this?” Dominic demanded.
Raphael pointed to the signature.
Dr. Adrian Heller.
Elena entered the study carrying a photograph of her husband.
When she heard the name, she stopped.
“Dr. Heller?”
Dominic turned.
“You know him?”
Her face drained of color.
“He was the doctor who prescribed Mateo's sleep medicine.”
Raphael slowly lowered the folder.
Elena stepped closer.
“And he was the doctor who signed my husband's death certificate.”
Dominic looked from the doctor's name to the medical report being used to remove him from power.
One man had certified Mateo's death.
And now that same man was helping to declare Dominic incapable of running his own company.
At the bottom of the assessment was a handwritten notation.
Further examination unnecessary prior to temporary transfer of executive authority.
Dominic placed the report on the desk.
“Raphael,” he said, “I want to know who paid Dr. Heller.”
Raphael checked the attached billing record.
May you like
Then his expression changed.
“The invoice was paid through the Laurent Care Foundation.”
