Chapter 3 - The Isolation of Power
By 1:00 a.m., the hospital hallway had become a staging ground for the total dismantling of the Montgomery empire.
The eight brothers were no longer laughing. They stood packed against the wall near the water cooler like cattle in a pen. Every time one of them tried to step away or pull out a phone, one of Victor’s security men stepped forward, placing a black-gloved hand on his chest and pushing him back against the plaster.
"You can't hold us here!" David, the fifth brother, yelled, his voice cracking with panic. "This is illegal! We have rights!"
Victor Vance smiled faintly, opening his leather dossier. "Mr. David Montgomery, at 12:15 a.m., the District Attorney’s office signed three arrest warrants for tax fraud, racketeering, and environmental dumping against you personally. The police are not arresting you yet because my client has requested five minutes to allow you to understand the full scope of your situation."
Arthur Montgomery was leaning against the glass partition, his heavy chest heaving. His gold watch, worth twenty thousand dollars, seemed to weigh down his wrist like a lead shackle.
"Julian," Arthur croaked. He used my first name now, his tone stripped of the crude dominance he had displayed thirty minutes prior. "Julian... listen to me. We're family. Clara is my daughter. We had a disagreement tonight... things got out of hand. Men get heated. You know how business is—"
"Do not say her name," I said.
My voice wasn't loud, but it cut through his words like a scalpel through soft tissue.
"She came to your house to ask why your construction firm was dumping industrial waste near the river properties we were developing," I said, stepping closer until I could smell the cold sweat rising from Arthur’s skin. "She went there as a daughter, hoping to protect you from an audit she thought was being run by third-party inspectors. She didn't know I already owned the inspection firm."
Arthur’s eyes twitched. "She... she was trying to protect us?"
"She loved you," I said. "Despite everything you are—a loud, ignorant tyrant who thought he ruled a city because he owned fifty cement trucks—she still believed you were her father. And when she showed you the documents, you didn't thank her. You panicked because you realized your fraud was exposed. And then you and your sons beat her until she couldn't stand."
"It was Richard!" Thomas suddenly blurted out, pointing a trembling finger at his older brother. "Richard hit her first! He pushed her down the terrace steps! I told him to stop!"
"You cowardly piece of garbage!" Richard roared, lunging at Thomas.
Before Richard could take two steps, two of Victor’s contractors hit him from behind. One drove an elbow into his kidney while the other swept his legs out. Richard hit the hard tile floor with a dull THUD, groaning as a boot came down heavily on the back of his neck, pinning his face to the cold floor.
The other brothers shrank back, pulling their hands to their chests.
"None of you stopped it," I said, looking over the eight men. "Not one of you called an ambulance until she was unconscious for forty minutes. You discussed how to cover it up while my wife lay bleeding on your terrace."
My phone chimed in my hand.
I flipped the screen up. It was a secure message from Chief Commander Vance of the Saint Jude Metro Police—a man who had sat at my dinner table every Christmas for five years.
ALL MONTGOMERY SITES SECURED. NO INTERVENTION AUTHORIZED BY CITY COUNCIL. STANDING BY.
"Your allies are gone, Arthur," I said. "Mayor Callahan just signed the emergency order revoking your city licenses. Chief Vance has ordered his units to cordon off your residences. The district judges you paid off have turned their phones off and left town."
Arthur fell to his knees. The heavy, brutal man who had ruled the east district for twenty years was kneeling on the hospital floor, his expensive suit trousers gathering floor dust.
"What do you want?" Arthur wept, his hands clasping together in a pathetic gesture of prayer. "Take the company! Take the land! Take everything! Just... don't send my boys to prison. Don't ruin us!"
I looked down at him with cold detachment.
"Prison?" I asked softly. "Arthur, you think I'm going to let you sit in a comfortable state facility for ten years eating three meals a day while my son lies in a morgue down the hall?"
May you like
Arthur looked up, his pale eyes wide with horror. "What... what are you going to do?"
"I am going to make sure that by sunrise, nobody in this city remembers that the Montgomery family ever existed," I said. "And then I am going to let the men you owed money to find you."
