By then, however, Eleanor and Richard had moved into the next stage of their plan.
They produced a suicide note supposedly written by Daniel.
It accused me of embezzlement and described his despair over my betrayal.
Cole supplied a report claiming the same drug had been discovered in a glass from our kitchen.
Eleanor also began pressuring the hospital for access to Daniel’s records.
That was when federal investigators proposed the controlled funeral.
No legal death certificate was ever filed.
The public announcement came from the Vance family office, using information supplied by Eleanor.
The service was held in a privately controlled wing of the crematorium.
The furnace connected to Daniel’s conveyor had been locked out, and every room had been equipped for audio and video surveillance under court authorization.
Daniel insisted on being inside the casket.
I argued against it.
“You’re still recovering,” I told him.
“If my mother sees an empty casket, she’ll become suspicious.”
“She tried to kill you.”
“And now she thinks I can’t answer back.”
The plan depended on restraint.
We already had strong financial evidence, but investigators wanted proof of obstruction, conspiracy, and the attempt to destroy records.
Eleanor and Richard needed to believe they had won completely.
So I walked into the funeral alone.
Daniel lay inside the ventilated casket with a microphone, a panic release, and a medical monitor.
Federal agents posed as staff members, mourners, and drivers.
Two officers waited near the warehouse where Richard had stored the original ledgers.
Eleanor supplied everything else.
She brought the forged suicide note.
She invited reporters.
She ordered the immediate cremation.
She publicly accused me of murder.
Then Richard mentioned burning the ledgers while a microphone recorded every word.
In the chapel, Daniel now stood beside the casket that was meant to erase him.
Eleanor raised her chin.
“You have always been weak where she is concerned.
Look what she has made you do to your own family.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“She saved my life.”
“She has poisoned your mind.”
“No.
You poisoned my food.”
The words struck harder than a shout.
Eleanor turned toward the board members.
“He is medicated.
He is confused.
That woman has manipulated him during a medical crisis.”
I removed another document from the folder.
It was the laboratory analysis of Daniel’s soup, followed by purchase records for the medication.
A household account controlled by Eleanor had paid for it through a private medical supplier.
Richard pointed at one of Eleanor’s assistants.
“She ordered it.
She handled all the household purchases.”
The assistant began crying.
“I was told it was for Mrs.
Vance’s heart condition,” she said.
“Mr.
Richard told me which supplier to use.”
Richard swore at her.
