Chapter 8 - Arthur’s Desperate Call from Jail
At 1:15 p.m., the landline in my private study rang.
The automated operator’s voice came through the speaker:
"You have a collect call from an inmate at the Suffolk County Federal Detention Center: Arthur Vance. Press 1 to accept."
I pressed 1 and put the phone on speaker.
"Eleanor!" Arthur’s voice erupted through the line, sounding breathless, cracked, and hysterical. "Eleanor, thank God you picked up! There’s been a catastrophic, unbelievable mistake! The FBI arrested me at the airport!"
"I know, Arthur," I said calmly, leaning back in my leather chair. "I saw your mugshot on the noon news. Orange is surprisingly not your color."
"Eleanor, listen to me!" he pleaded, his voice trembling with panic. "Sienna... she set me up! She and her brother manipulated the company accounts! They forced me to sign those transfers, Eleanor! I was on my way to Dubai to track down the stolen funds for you! I was trying to save our company!"
I took a slow, deliberate sip of my tea.
"Is that why you texted me a photo of yourself smiling with my diamond bracelet, calling me a 'useless woman' who would have fun in bankruptcy, Arthur?"
The line went dead silent.
The only sound was Arthur’s shallow, terrified breathing on the other end of the wire.
"Eleanor... please," he wept, dropping all pretense of his lie. "I'm sorry. I was out of my mind. I'll sign whatever you want. I'll give you everything. Just post my two-million-dollar bail. Don't leave me in this cell."
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"You told me I was useless, Arthur," I whispered softly. "And useless women certainly don't have two million dollars to waste on criminals. Have a wonderful stay in Boston."
I hung up the phone and blocked the correctional facility’s routing number permanently.
