CHAPTER 4 — THE JANITOR WITH THE ORIGINAL WILL
By morning, America believed Michael Whitmore was finished.
But Emily knew better.
Men like Michael did not fall quietly.
At 6:12 a.m., she received a call from an unknown number.
A calm old voice said,
“Miss Whitmore, your father trusted me with one final instruction.”
Emily froze.
“Who are you?”
The man answered,
“The only person in Boston who knows where the real will is buried.”
Then he hung up.
One hour later, a black limousine stopped outside her apartment.
The door opened.
The elderly janitor from across the street stepped out in a tailored suit.
Emily stepped back.
“You?”
He smiled.
“My name is Thomas Hale. I was your father’s private investigator for twenty-seven years.”
Daniel stared at him.
“You were pretending to be a janitor?”
Thomas opened a leather briefcase.
“Not pretending. Listening.”
Inside was a sealed folder with Richard Whitmore’s signature across the flap.
Emily reached for it, but Thomas stopped her.
“Before you open this, you need to know something.”
His voice lowered.
“Your father didn’t just leave you the company.”
“He left you a trap.”
Emily’s stomach tightened.
“For who?”
May you like
Thomas looked toward the television, where Michael’s face was still flashing across every channel.
“For every person in this family who loved the money more than they loved him.”
