Chapter 7 - The Mother Who Wasn't Dead
Helen Mercer was sixty-eight.
The same age as me.
She entered Priya's office carrying a grocery-store tote bag and the expression of someone who had spent years expecting doors to close.
"You're Thomas Vance."
"Yes."
"My daughter chose well."
I did not know whether it was an insult.
Maybe both.
Helen sat.
"Elise told people I died because dead mothers don't answer questions."
Genevieve asked, "Did you know she used Evelyn Kensington?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you report her?"
Helen laughed sadly.
"To whom? For changing her name?"
Fair.
She opened the tote.
Inside were old photographs, letters, and a court file.
Leonard Mercer had been abusive.
That did not excuse the fraud he ran.
It explained why Helen left him.
When investigators closed Mercer Provenance, Helen cooperated.
Sebastian blamed her for his conviction.
Elise blamed her for destroying the family.
"She was twenty-six," Helen said. "Old enough to know. Young enough to tell herself she had no choice."
I asked, "Did she participate in the old fraud?"
Helen's eyes filled.
"She altered records. I saw her."
"Was she charged?"
"No. Her father kept her name out of the accounts."
"Why tell us now?"
Helen looked at Genevieve's bandage.
"Because I saw the wedding cancellation on television. Then I heard your daughter was attacked."
She looked at me.
"Elise becomes dangerous when the story she needs stops working."
That sentence chilled the room.
Helen handed Priya a letter Evelyn sent six years earlier.
MOM - SEBASTIAN HAS A WAY TO MAKE THE OLD INVENTORY CLEAN. WE NEED A COLLECTION BIG ENOUGH THAT NOBODY QUESTIONS WHERE THINGS CAME FROM AFTER.
Six years earlier.
Before Evelyn met me.
There were many wealthy collectors in Chicago.
Why me?
Another letter answered.
She had clipped a business magazine profile about Vance Heritage.
My divorce had not happened yet.
My marriage to Marianne was described as stable.
Beside my photograph, Evelyn had written:
Hotels. Private collection. No institutional registrar.
Genevieve looked at me.
"She selected the company first."
I felt strangely calm.
"Maybe."
"Dad."
"The company first. Me later. Both can be true."
I needed that distinction.
If Evelyn had loved me, I did not want fake innocence by pretending every dinner and every night had been acting.
It did not reduce what she did.
It made it more human and therefore more frightening.
Helen said, "She always wanted a life where nobody could call her a Mercer again."
"So she built one on stolen paintings."
Helen nodded.
"And you were the cleanest wall she ever hung them on."
That evening Evelyn was released pending further investigation on the assault complaint with a no-contact order covering Genevieve and Toby.
Her lawyer issued a statement denying art fraud.
Then Evelyn sent one message to me through counsel.
I WILL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING IF YOU MEET ME WITHOUT GENEVIEVE.
I forwarded it to Priya.
I did not answer.
The next morning, a fire alarm triggered at our offsite art records warehouse.
Someone had entered using my old executive code.
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