Craig's face tightened.
“I don't understand.”
“I think you do.”
Benjamin opened the binder.
“There are twelve catering invoices for events that never happened.”
Tiffany stepped backward.
“That isn't possible.”
Benjamin turned a page.
“Then explain invoice 8841.”
Tiffany looked at it.
“That's a private donor dinner.”
Benjamin shook his head.
“There was no donor dinner.”
“Yes, there was.”
“No.”
He placed another sheet beside it.
“Building security records show nobody entered the ballroom that evening.”
Tiffany went silent.
Benjamin turned another page.
“Invoice 8853.”
Craig stared.
“Security records.”
Another page.
“Invoice 8892.”
“Security.”
Another.
“Invoice 8910.”
“Security.”
The room grew colder.
Daniel looked at Craig.
Craig shook his head.
“I don't know anything about these.”
Benjamin looked at him.
“You approved them.”
Craig swallowed.
“I sign hundreds of invoices.”
“You signed these.”
“I don't remember.”
Benjamin closed the binder.
“That's the problem.”
The Woman Who Had Been Watching
Tiffany suddenly spoke.
“This is ridiculous.”
Everyone looked at her.
She straightened her shoulders.
“You're all seriously going to take financial accusations from a janitor?”
Benjamin didn't react.
Daniel did.
“He is the controlling owner of the building.”
Tiffany looked at him.
“That doesn't make him an accountant.”
“No,” Benjamin said.
“It makes him something worse.”
Tiffany frowned.
Benjamin continued.
“It makes him a witness.”
Tiffany laughed nervously.
“To what?”
Benjamin looked directly at her.
“To you.”
Her smile disappeared.
“I've seen you pressure junior staff to move donor money into private event accounts.”
“That is an accusation.”
“I've heard you tell employees to alter attendance numbers.”
“You can't prove that.”
Benjamin nodded.
“Correct.”
He reached into his pocket.
Then placed a small digital recorder on the table.
Tiffany stared at it.
Benjamin pressed a button.
Her own voice filled the room.
“Don't worry about the numbers. Nobody checks the children's program expenses. They only care about the gala photos.”
Silence.
The recording continued.
Another voice.
Craig's.
“Then we'll move the balance through operations.”
Tiffany's recorded voice answered.
“And who is going to notice?”
The recording stopped.
Tiffany's face turned pale.
Craig looked at the table.
Margaret closed her eyes.
Daniel whispered.
“How long?”
Benjamin looked at him.
“At least eighteen months.”
Daniel sat down.
“Eighteen months?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
Benjamin slid another document forward.
“Two million, three hundred and fourteen thousand dollars.”
Margaret covered her mouth.
Daniel looked sick.
Craig shook his head.
“No.”
Benjamin said nothing.
Craig stood.
“You've been recording us?”
Benjamin looked at him.
“Not all the time.”
“That's illegal.”
“I recorded conversations in which I was present.”
Craig pointed at him.
“You planned this.”
Benjamin shook his head.
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because I wanted to know whether Samuel was wrong.”
Margaret looked up.
“Wrong about what?”
Benjamin looked toward the framed photograph visible through the glass wall.
“He believed that people could be trusted with power.”
He paused.
“I wanted to believe him.”
The Gala Changes
At 8:10, the ballroom was still full.
Nobody knew what was happening upstairs.
The orchestra continued playing.
Servers carried champagne.
Donors talked.
Then Daniel Sterling walked onto the stage.
He tapped the microphone.
The room slowly quieted.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience.”
Craig stood near the back.
He looked terrified.
Tiffany stood beside him.
Benjamin remained near the service entrance.
Daniel continued.
“Tonight was supposed to be a celebration.”
He paused.
“It still is.”
A few people smiled.
Then Daniel's expression changed.
“But we have discovered serious financial irregularities involving the Sterling Foundation.”
The room erupted into whispers.
Margaret walked onto the stage.
She took the microphone.
“We owe the people who trust this foundation complete honesty.”
A donor shouted.
“What happened?”
Margaret looked at the crowd.
“Money intended for children's programs was misallocated.”
Another voice called out.
“How much?”
Daniel answered.
“More than two million dollars.”
Gasps spread through the ballroom.
Someone began recording.
Within seconds, dozens of phones were raised.
Daniel continued.
“The investigation is ongoing.”
Craig suddenly moved toward the exit.
Benjamin saw him.
So did security.
Thomas stepped into Craig's path.
“Mr. Holloway.”
“Move.”
“I can't.”
“I'm leaving.”
“You're not.”
Craig looked furious.
“You work for me.”
Thomas shook his head.
“No, sir.”
“I manage this event.”
Thomas looked toward Benjamin.
“No.”
“You don't understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
Craig stopped.
For the first time in years, someone had refused to move for him.
Benjamin approached.
“Craig.”
Craig turned.
“You've ruined my career.”
Benjamin shook his head.
“No.”
“You did this to me.”
“No.”
Benjamin pointed toward the stage.
“You did this.”
Craig stared at him.
Benjamin's voice remained calm.
“You had eighteen months to stop.”
Craig looked away.
Benjamin continued.
“You had eighteen months to return the money.”
Silence.
“You had eighteen months to admit what you were doing.”
Craig's eyes filled with anger.
“And you expect me to believe you're some kind of hero?”
Benjamin shook his head.
“No.”
He glanced at the children whose photographs lined the ballroom walls.
“I don't want to be a hero.”
“Then what do you want?”
Benjamin answered quietly.
“I want the children to get what they were promised.”
The Hidden Room
Later that night, Benjamin took Daniel to a room beneath the tower.