Chapter 18 - Stripping the Matriarch's Mask
"Arrest him!" Eleanor suddenly shrieked, losing every shred of her society-bred decorum, pointing a trembling, diamond-encrusted finger at Marcus. "Officer! That man is an escaped felon! He’s an impostor! Connor has hired an actor to slander me!"
Detective Cruz didn't look at Marcus. He stepped forward, pulled a pair of high-tensile steel handcuffs from his belt, and looked directly at Eleanor.
"Eleanor Vance-Bradley, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Amy Bradley, attempted murder of Connor Bradley, criminal conspiracy to commit arson, and first-degree grand larceny."
"Do not touch me!" she screamed, slapping Cruz’s hand away. "Do you know who I am? Call Judge Hallowell! Call the Attorney General! I gave four million dollars to the governor's campaign!"
"Judge Hallowell signed the search warrant for your Manhattan penthouse forty minutes ago, Eleanor," Cruz said impassively, grabbing her wrist, twisting it behind her back, and snapping the first cuff into place with a sharp, resonant *clink*.
The reporters swarmed like locusts, motor-drives clicking at twenty frames a second as the undisputed queen of Fairfield society was bent over the hood of an unmarked police cruiser.
"Connor!" she shrieked, her face pressed against the cold metal of the cruiser’s hood, her chignon coming undone, strands of gray hair sticking to her makeup. "Connor, I am your mother! I raised you! I built that house for you! You are throwing me to the dogs for an outsider! A scullery maid! A woman who couldn't even keep a house without my silver!"
I walked up to the car, leaning down until my eyes were inches from hers.
"Amy didn't starve in that basement because she was weak, Eleanor," I said, each word deliberate and measured. "She survived because she loved Frederick more than you ever loved any of your sons. You killed Julian Jr. You destroyed Marcus. You bled my father to death with ink and threats. But your kingdom ended the day you touched my wife."
"You have nothing!" Eleanor spat, saliva flying from her lips onto my lapel. "The mezzanine loan defaults today! Apex will seize the estate! You will be homeless on the street with your precious scullery maid!"
"Alistair Vance from Apex Mezzanine Holdings was taken into federal custody at JFK airport an hour ago," Cruz noted calmly as he opened the rear door of the cruiser. "Turns out, his corporate entity was an unlicensed loan-sharking front laundering your offshore funds back into the country. He gave up your digital passwords to save his own skin."
Eleanor went limp.
For the first time in my life, I saw the true creature beneath the Bradley diamonds. She was not a queen. She was not a formidable matriarch. She was a hollow, terrified, aging parasite whose host had finally ripped her from its flesh.
Cruz pushed her head down and shoved her into the backseat. The door slammed shut, cutting off her hysterical screams behind soundproof, reinforced glass.
The crowd parted as the cruiser pulled away, its sirens wailing toward the state correctional facility in Niantic.
Marcus put a heavy hand on my shoulder. "It’s over, little brother."
May you like
"Not yet," I said, looking back at the courthouse steps. "We still have to see what she left in New York."
***
