Chapter 13: The Man Who Sold Our Secret
The police officers arrived ten minutes later.
Two men in plain clothes entered Martin Keller's office. One introduced himself as Inspector Brandt and asked me to confirm my identity.
I did.
He then placed a folder on the table.
"Mrs. Morgen, we need to ask you some questions regarding an allegation of fraudulent transfers from a family investment trust.""
Alexander immediately stepped forward.
"My mother has never transferred anything from that trust.""
Inspector Brandt raised a hand.
"Mr. Morgen, we are not making an accusation. We are investigating a complaint.""
"Submitted by my wife," Alexander replied.
The inspector glanced at the file.
"Mrs. Bianca Weber, yes.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"May I see the document?""
He hesitated, then turned the folder around.
There it was.
A statement claiming that I had authorized three transfers totaling €214,000 from the trust into private accounts.
It included a copy of my identification, a supposed authorization letter, and a signature.
The signature looked convincing.
Almost convincing.
But the date was wrong.
I had been in hospital that week for a minor operation. I remembered it because Alexander had visited me with flowers.
"I couldn't have signed this," I said.
"I was recovering from surgery.""
Inspector Brandt examined the date.
"Do you have medical records confirming that?""
"Yes.""
He made a note.
Then he asked about the bank accounts.
I recognized one immediately.
It belonged to a company connected to Ewald.
The second was unfamiliar.
The third was a private investment account.
Martin leaned forward.
"Inspector, those accounts were identified in the historical records Karl Morgen preserved. They have no legitimate connection to Helga.""
"That is something we'll need to verify," the inspector replied.
Alexander looked at him.
"Can you tell us who supplied the documents?""
The inspector closed the folder.
"We're not at liberty to disclose every detail of an ongoing investigation.""
I understood the answer.
But I also understood something else.
Bianca had not simply invented an accusation.
She had assembled a collection of real documents, stolen information, and fabricated signatures.
Someone had helped her make the lie look official.
When the officers finished questioning us, they left with copies of the original documents from Karl's box.
Inspector Brandt gave me his card.
"If you discover anything else relevant, contact me directly.""
After they left, Alexander turned toward Martin.
"Who is Markus Vogel?""
Martin rubbed his forehead.
"He was the solicitor who handled the company's restructuring. Karl trusted him because he had known him for years.""
"Did he have access to the trust documents?""
"Yes.""
"Then why didn't you warn us?""
Martin looked ashamed.
"Because I believed he was trustworthy.""
I stared at him.
"My husband believed that too.""
Martin didn't answer.
We arranged to meet Anna that afternoon.
She had already received a copy of the complaint and was furious.
"Bianca has no authority to submit this on your behalf," she said.
"And the authorization letter contains several legal inconsistencies.""
"Can you prove it's forged?"" Alexander asked.
"We can request an independent handwriting examination. But I want to establish where the document originated.""
Anna opened her laptop.
She examined the metadata attached to the complaint.
The file had been created three days earlier.
The author field contained a name.
Markus Vogel.
Alexander stared.
"He's the one who created it?""
"That is what the metadata suggests. It doesn't prove who physically prepared the document, but it's a significant lead.""
Anna enlarged the screen.
Then she noticed another detail.
The document had been edited on a computer registered to Vogel's law office.
I felt a strange calm settle over me.
For years, I had believed the people around Karl were simply business acquaintances.
Now I was beginning to understand how many of them had been connected.
Anna contacted Vogel's office.
His assistant answered.
She explained that he was unavailable.
Then she asked whether he could attend a meeting the following morning.
The assistant promised to call back.
She never did.
Instead, at six that evening, Alexander received an email.
It was from Bianca.
You need to stop digging into your father's business.
He read it aloud.
Another message followed.
You don't know what he did. Your mother does.
Then a photograph arrived.
It showed Karl sitting at a desk, holding a document.
I recognized the room immediately.
It was the office he had rented after retiring.
The photograph had been taken shortly before his death.
On the desk was a folder with the words:
*Final Settlement — E. Weber*
I stared at the image.
"Where did she get that?""
Alexander zoomed in.
The photograph appeared to have been taken from another printed photograph.
The edges were visible.
But the most disturbing detail was the person standing behind Karl.
A woman.
Her face was partially hidden by the doorframe.
I recognized her coat.
It belonged to Lydia Weber.
Bianca's mother.
Alexander looked at me.
"Was Lydia there?""
I shook my head.
"I don't know.""
But I remembered something.
After Karl died, Lydia had visited me several times.
She had brought food, flowers, and sympathy cards.
She had been unusually interested in the documents Karl had left behind.
At the time, I thought she was being kind.
Now I wondered whether she had been searching for something.
I called Anna.
She listened carefully.
"Helga, don't reply to Bianca. Save every message.""
"Do you think Lydia stole the photograph?""
"I think we need to establish how it reached Bianca.""
The following morning, Anna arranged a meeting with Markus Vogel.
He arrived twenty minutes late.
He was a well-dressed man in his early sixties, carrying a leather briefcase.
He shook my hand as if we were old friends.
"Mrs. Morgen. I'm sorry this has become so unpleasant.""
I looked at him.
"You prepared a fraudulent complaint using my name.""
His expression barely changed.
"That's a serious allegation.""
Anna placed the disputed document on the table.
"Did you create this file?""
Vogel examined it.
"I prepare hundreds of documents.""
"Did you prepare this one?""
"I don't recall.""
Alexander leaned forward.
"Did you provide Bianca Weber with confidential information about my father's trust?""
Vogel looked at him.
"Your wife approached me seeking advice about marital financial planning. I explained certain legal principles. That is all.""
"Did you tell her about the trust?""
Vogel hesitated.
"She was your wife. She had a legitimate interest in understanding the family assets.""
"She had no authority to access my father's trust.""
Vogel folded his hands.
"That is a matter for the trust administrator.""
I watched him carefully.
He was calm.
Too calm.
Then Anna asked a question that changed his expression.
"Mr. Vogel, do you remember a document dated September 14, 2018, concerning the transfer of Karl Morgen's investment rights?""
His eyes flickered.
Only for a moment.
But I saw it.
"That was a long time ago.""
"Did you prepare it?""
"I may have.""
"Was it signed by Karl Morgen?""
"I don't remember.""
I placed the original agreement on the table.
"My husband wrote that he never signed it.""
Vogel glanced at the document.
Then he looked at me.
"Mrs. Morgen, your husband was very ill toward the end. His memory was not always reliable.""
I felt Alexander tense beside me.
"Don't speak about my father like that.""
Vogel ignored him.
Instead, he looked directly at me.
"Perhaps you should consider whether continuing this investigation is in your best interests.""
I stared.
"Is that a threat?""
"No. Advice.""
Anna closed her notebook.
"Then I think we're finished.""
Vogel stood.
He adjusted his jacket.
Before leaving, he turned toward Alexander.
"Your father made enemies by refusing to compromise. You should be careful not to repeat his mistakes.""
Then he walked out.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Alexander finally said, "He's involved.""
Anna nodded.
"I agree. But suspicion is not proof.""
My phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
A message appeared.
If you want to know what happened to Karl's final settlement, meet me alone tonight. Bring no one.
Below it was a photograph.
The same office.
The same desk.
But this time, the folder was open.
May you like
And beside it lay a handwritten note.
Ewald was not the only one who received the money.
