Ruiz shut the archive door.
“No one leaves.”
Claire stared at the computer.
“I didn't initiate that transfer.”
“I believe you,” Ruiz said.
Claire looked surprised.
“But someone used your credentials.”
Ruiz pointed toward the screen.
“That's what we need to establish.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“Can you trace it?”
The officer shook his head.
“Not from here.”
David examined the computer.
“This isn't connected to the internet.”
Everyone looked at him.
He pointed toward the back.
“No network cable.”
Michael frowned.
“Then how did someone access the bank?”
David opened a drawer.
Inside was an old telephone modem.
He stared at it.
“This machine uses a dedicated line.”
Ruiz immediately called the telephone company.
While she waited, Thomas walked to the wall.
“There is another connection.”
He pressed a loose wooden panel.
A small metal box appeared.
Inside were wires.
One ran directly toward the floor.
Thomas followed it.
“The archive has its own telephone line.”
David nodded.
“Samuel wanted remote access.”
“But the system is ancient,” I said.
“Ancient doesn't mean useless,” David replied.
Ruiz returned.
“The line was active until this afternoon.”
Daniel stared at her.
“Who authorized it?”
“The account holder.”
“Samuel?”
“Technically, the trust.”
That made everyone uneasy.
The trust was supposed to be controlled by the beneficiaries.
But none of us had activated anything.
David looked at Claire.
“Your identity was probably used because you're listed as trustee.”
Claire folded her arms.
“How?”
“Someone copied your signature.”
“I never signed anything.”
“I know.”
He walked to the desk.
“There may be a physical signature stored here.”
He opened a drawer.
Nothing.
Another.
Nothing.
Then Michael found a thin folder beneath the desk.
Inside were copies of identification documents.
Mine.
Daniel's.
Marlene's.
Frank's.
Claire's.
All five.
Dates showed they had been collected at different times.
Claire's file contained a photocopy of her passport.
The photograph was several years old.
Beside it was a forged signature.
She stared at it.
“That isn't mine.”
Ruiz photographed the page.
“Forgery confirmed.”
David looked through the remaining documents.
“These were prepared months ago.”
“By Victor?”
“Possibly.”
Thomas shook his head.
“No.”
Everyone looked at him.
“Victor would never risk using a forged identity while the police were involved.”
“Then who?” Daniel asked.
Thomas pointed to the date.
“Six months ago.”
The same month everything began.
Claire suddenly remembered something.
“I received a letter.”
“What letter?”
“From Northbridge Trust.”
She searched her phone.
“I was told my trustee records needed updating.”
Grandma's face changed.
“You never told me.”
“I didn't think it mattered.”
Claire found the message.
There was an attachment.
Ruiz examined it.
“It was malware.”
Daniel stared.
“You clicked it?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
David exhaled.
“That explains the transfer.”
The program had captured Claire's credentials.
It had also captured information about the other beneficiaries.
The person behind the scheme had been preparing for months.
Ruiz asked, “Who sent the message?”
Claire showed her.
The sender appeared to be Northbridge Trust.
But the address was slightly different.
A single letter had been changed.
Thomas looked at it.
“Victor.”
“No,” David said.
Thomas looked at him.
“Then who?”
David didn't answer.
Instead, he took out his phone.
“I need to make a call.”
He walked outside.
Five minutes later, he returned.
His expression was grim.
“What?”
“My father received the same message.”
Thomas stared.
“David?”
“Yes.”
“Six months ago?”
“Yes.”
“Then you were compromised too.”
David nodded.
“That's how they found the storage locker.”
Michael stepped toward him.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“You didn't tell us.”
“I didn't know whom to trust.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“That seems to be the family motto.”
Nobody argued.
Ruiz asked David to explain everything.
He said the fake bank message had instructed him to upload identity verification documents.
He had done so.
But he later discovered that the files were copied.
That meant whoever controlled the system had access to every beneficiary's identity.
The forged transfer wasn't random.
It was the final step.
They intended to move the Winter money into an account controlled by someone else.
Ruiz asked, “Where?”
David shook his head.
“We need the destination account.”
The bank called.
Ruiz answered.
Her expression became increasingly serious.
She put the phone on speaker.
A bank investigator explained that the transfer had been blocked.
But the destination account had already been opened.
Its registered owner was a company called Winter Restitution Services.
I recognized the name.
“It doesn't exist.”
The investigator replied, “It exists.”
David frowned.
“Who owns it?”
There was a pause.
Then the investigator said a name.
Victor Hale.
Grandma whispered, “Of course.”
But Thomas shook his head.
“No.”
The investigator continued.
“Mr. Hale is listed as the director.”
Thomas stared at the phone.
“Victor isn't the real owner.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Victor doesn't use his own name.”
The investigator asked for clarification.
Thomas said, “Check the beneficial owner.”
The bank employee did.
Silence.
Then he said, “The beneficial owner is Thomas Vale.”
David's face drained of color.
“My father.”
Thomas looked at David.
David shook his head.
“I never opened that company.”
Thomas answered quietly.
“I know.”
The investigator continued.
“There is another name attached.”
“Whose?”
“Claire Bennett.”
Claire stepped back.
“No.”
Ruiz looked at her.
“That's enough for tonight.”
But Claire was staring at the screen.
She had noticed something.
The transfer request wasn't signed with her forged signature.
It carried a different authorization code.
One that had been issued to her eight months earlier.
She whispered, “Someone didn't steal my identity.”
“What?”
“They were given it.”
Everyone stared.
Claire pointed to the authorization record.
“Someone at the bank created my trustee credentials.”
Ruiz understood.
“This wasn't an outside attack.”
Claire nodded.
“Someone inside Northbridge helped them.”
Then the bank investigator spoke again.
“There is one more thing.”
Ruiz said, “Go ahead.”
“The employee who created the trustee credentials was authorized by Samuel Bennett's original account.”
Grandma went completely still.
“Samuel has been dead for years.”
The investigator replied,
“Not according to our records.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 15: A Bank Record Claimed Samuel Was Still Active, Forcing Everyone to Confront the Possibility That Someone Had Been Living Behind His Identity
The Christmas Gift Everyone Thought Was a Joke Until One Envelope Made the Room Go Completely Silent
Part 14 of 20
