Chapter 8 - Wallace’s Confession
They brought me to a secured interview room.
Wallace sat behind glass.
He looked twenty years older.
“You shouldn't have involved yourself,” he said.
“You shouldn't have poisoned your patient.”
His eyes dropped.
“I didn't start this.”
“But you continued it.”
“Yes.”
The word came out broken.
Wallace explained that Christopher had discovered his gambling debts.
At first, the arrangement had seemed temporary—medications intended to weaken Raymond, confuse diagnostic results, and make an existing illness appear catastrophic.
Then Christopher increased the pressure.
And the money.
“What was supposed to happen?” I asked.
Wallace stared at the table.
“Raymond was supposed to die.”
The room felt colder.
“And the final dose?”
Wallace looked up.
“Christopher changed the plan after you arrived.”
My pulse accelerated.
“How?”
“He realized Raymond was responding to your baby.”
I stopped breathing.
“He knew?”
“He suspected.”
Wallace leaned closer to the glass.
“And he knows something else.”
“What?”
“There is a second will.”
Evelyn, listening beside me, stiffened.
Wallace continued.
“Raymond signed it before he became incapacitated.”
Evelyn whispered, “Where?”
“Christopher never found it.”
“Where is it?”
Wallace shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Then he looked directly at me.
“But Raymond does.”
When I returned to the hospital, I told Raymond.
He stared at me for several seconds.
Then smiled weakly.
“Library.”
“The mansion?”
He nodded.
“Blue book.”
Evelyn and police searched the library.
There were thousands of books.
Hours later, they found a blue leather volume with a hollow compartment.
Inside was Raymond’s revised estate document.
Christopher would receive money.
But no controlling interest in the company.
Instead, Raymond’s voting shares would be placed into a charitable trust.
Christopher’s motive had just become much clearer.
So had his desperation.
Because by evening, he disappeared.
May you like
And this time, he took something with him.
My son.
