Chapter 9 - The Work OrderDaniel called Vivian from the theater office.
"Where did you get my signature?"
She answered without hesitation.
"On what?"
"The Eastbank consent packet."
"That's a working draft."
"It has my signature."
"Your signature is used on internal documents all the time."
"Not on a sale authorization."
Vivian sighed.
"Daniel, you're overreacting."
He stared at the page.
"I have never authorized the sale."
"Then the document isn't effective."
"Why create it?"
"Because we need to be prepared."
He nearly laughed.
"Prepared to sell property I said I would not sell?"
"Prepared to save a building before your stubbornness ruins it."
Daniel looked toward the rows of empty seats.
"Bring every version of that document to the office."
Vivian's voice sharpened.
"Don't order me around."
"Then treat it as a request from another owner."
He ended the call.
His hands were shaking.
For the first time in his life, he had spoken to Vivian as someone who might be working against him.
It felt both necessary and unbearable.
Jack's case took an unexpected turn when a retired stage electrician named Thomas Reed contacted Nina Park.
Thomas was seventy, thin, and missing the tip of his left index finger from an unrelated workshop accident decades earlier.
He had maintained the Grand's original electrical equipment for more than thirty years.
He asked to meet at a diner away from the theater.
Jack recognized him immediately.
"Mr. Reed?"
Thomas smiled faintly.
"Still calling me mister?"
"You taught me half of what I know."
"Then you should have learned to stay out of trouble."
Jack looked at him.
Thomas's smile disappeared.
"I heard what happened."
They sat in a rear booth.
Thomas removed a brown envelope from his jacket.
Inside were photocopies of maintenance requests from 2018.
Each concerned a leak above the west orchestra ceiling.
The reports warned that water entering the electrical conduit could eventually damage equipment.
Jack examined the forms.
Every request had been marked closed.
Responsible administrator: Vivian Vale.
Work completed by: Northline Preservation Services.
Jack frowned.
"Northline was billing the theater in 2018?"
Thomas nodded.
"But Ruth's ledger only goes back twenty-eight months."
"That's when this version of the arrangement got bigger."
Nina leaned forward.
"What happened in 2018?"
Thomas stared into his coffee.
"The west ceiling flooded during a storm. Vivian blamed me for failing to inspect the conduit. She said the maintenance reports had never reached her."
Jack remembered hearing about the incident.
Thomas had left the theater shortly afterward.
Everyone believed he retired.
"Did you?"
Thomas shook his head.
"I was forced out."
He pointed at a copied report.
"This was my warning. Vivian received it. Her initials are right there."
Jack examined the paper.
"Why didn't you fight it?"
"My wife had just started chemotherapy. I needed the severance and health coverage continuation more than I needed a public argument."
He paused.
"I told myself the theater would survive without me."
Nina asked whether the reports were authentic.
Thomas explained that he had retained copies of his own signed work orders, correspondence, and the settlement agreement.
The settlement limited what he could publicly disclose about the employment dispute, but Nina said she would review its terms before using anything.
Thomas nodded.
Then he removed another page.
It was a contractor approval form.
Northline Preservation Services.
Signed by Vivian.
Countersigned by Daniel.
Jack looked at the signature.
"Was Daniel involved?"
Thomas's face grew grim.
"I don't know. But after Vivian blamed me, he never asked for my side."
Jack felt something twist in his chest.
Eight years earlier, another worker had warned the Vale family about a problem.
Vivian had dismissed the warning.
Daniel had accepted her explanation.
And the worker had disappeared.
The pattern was no longer difficult to recognize.
Meanwhile, Daniel had begun tracing the approval form attached to the proposed Eastbank sale.
His signature appeared as a digital image rather than a verified electronic signature with an audit trail.
His business attorney, whom he retained independently of Crane, confirmed that the draft had no legal effect merely because an image of his signature appeared on it.
But using such an image to misrepresent his consent could still raise serious legal issues.
Daniel demanded that any proposed transaction be suspended until the document's origin was established.
Vivian sent him a furious message.
You are putting Mother's legacy at risk because of an employee who doesn't care whether this place survives.
Daniel read it twice.
Then he answered.
Mother's legacy isn't yours to sell without my consent.
Vivian did not reply.
That night, Maya examined the old stage maintenance records with Jack.
She noticed a pattern.
Each time Thomas Reed reported an expensive problem, Northline submitted an invoice.
Each time Jack requested a costly repair, Vivian labeled the equipment operational.
But the same contractor was paid.
"The theater keeps paying for repairs that don't happen," Maya said.
Jack spread the documents across the table.
"Then where does the money go?"
Maya pointed to a recurring authorization code.
VH-ADVISORY.
They searched the financial records Ruth had lawfully provided to the auditor, which Nina was permitted to review.
The code appeared on a series of approved consulting expenses.
Jack recognized the initials.
Vivian Hale? Vivian Holdings?
He frowned.
Vivian's last name was Vale.
VH could mean anything.
But Maya had seen the same letters elsewhere.
She opened the photograph from the gala.
At the bottom of the redevelopment rendering, beneath Eastbank's logo, was another company name.
VH Advisory Group LLC.
She looked at Jack.
May you like
"Vivian has her own company."
And its name appeared on payments connected to the contractor supposedly repairing the theater.
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