Chapter 5 - The Lower Wacker Ghost
Deep within the subterranean archives of the estate, surrounded by rows of climate-controlled servers and dusty filing cabinets dating back to the founding of the Vale shipping empire in the 1950s, Vincent reviewed the digital forensics report on the crash that had nearly killed Dominic.
The screen glowed blue against the dim emergency lighting, illuminating Vincent’s scarred face.
"Boss," Vincent spoke into his secure comm-link, his voice echoing in the underground vault. "I've got the telematics data from your SUV on the night of the Lower Wacker crash."
Through the earpiece, Dominic’s voice crackled back, steady and cold. "Talk to me, Vincent."
"The initial police report blamed wet pavement and speed," Vincent said, scrolling through lines of hex code and sensor logs. "But the onboard diagnostic computer tells a different story. Ninety seconds before impact, the brake fluid pressure sensor registered a catastrophic drop. Someone didn't just sabotage the lines—they installed a remote solenoid valve that bled the fluid the moment the vehicle hit forty miles per hour on the curved overpass."
"A remote valve," Dominic repeated, the words tasting like ash. "Who had access to the vehicle fleet management system?"
"Only two people have master override codes for the executive motor pool," Vincent replied grimly. "You... and Arthur Voss."
Dominic didn't answer immediately. When he spoke, the fury in his voice was terrifyingly restrained. "Get the physical logs from the garage security cameras for that entire week. I want to know who installed that valve."
"Already on it, Boss. But Dominic... there's more. The financial trail attached to the purchase order for that solenoid valve leads straight to an offshore shell corporation registered in the British Virgin Islands. And the ultimate beneficiary listed on the corporate charter isn't a stranger."
"Who is it?"
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"Your cousin, Julian Vance."
Dominic closed his eyes. Julian. The shipping magnate sitting in his conference room right now, pretending to be an innocent bystander. They hadn't just wanted to take over the organization; they had wanted him dead, buried, and forgotten before the ink on his will could even dry.
