Chapter 10 - THE WIFE'S SECOND SECRET
Camille had been lying to Victor.
That was the first thing Julien realized when Reeves showed him Olivia's notebook.
The second was far more disturbing.
Camille had been investigating Whitcomb long before she married Julien.
Her connection to the financier was not an accident.
It was part of a plan that had begun years earlier.
Reeves placed a photograph on the table.
Camille, twenty-seven years old, standing beside Whitcomb at a charity event in London.
The photograph was dated fourteen years earlier.
Julien stared at it.
“She told me she'd never met him before last spring.”
“She lied.”
“Why?”
“We're trying to determine that.”
Julien studied Camille's younger face.
She looked happy.
Confident.
Nothing like the frightened woman he had seen on the yacht.
He remembered meeting her at a fundraising dinner eleven years earlier.
She had been working for an international consulting firm.
She spoke three languages.
Loved art.
And seemed genuinely interested in his work.
He had been lonely.
His first marriage had ended amicably, but painfully.
Sophie was growing older.
His company consumed most of his time.
Camille had arrived like sunlight through a window he had forgotten existed.
Now he wondered whether even their first meeting had been arranged.
### Camille's confession
Detective Brooks returned to the Moreau estate that afternoon.
This time, Camille asked to speak without Victor present.
She had spent the previous night awake.
Victor had disappeared.
His calls went unanswered.
And a message from an unknown number had arrived shortly before dawn.
You're next.
Camille sat across from Brooks.
“I want a lawyer.”
“That's your right.”
“I also want protection.”
Brooks studied her.
“From whom?”
“Victor.”
“Why?”
Camille began shaking.
“Because he knows I can destroy him.”
Brooks remained silent.
Camille wiped her eyes.
“I didn't know Julien would survive.”
The detective leaned forward.
“Survive what?”
Camille froze.
She had said too much.
Brooks waited.
Finally, Camille whispered, “The yacht.”
“What happened on the yacht?”
Camille began crying.
“He was tied up.”
“Who tied him?”
“Victor's men.”
“And then?”
Camille covered her face.
“They threw him into the water.”
Brooks kept her voice steady.
“Did you try to stop them?”
Camille shook her head.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of Victor?”
Camille hesitated.
“Of losing everything.”
The words sounded terrible when spoken aloud.
She had stood there while her husband was thrown into the ocean.
Not because she had no choice.
Because she wanted the fortune more than she wanted to save him.
Brooks let the silence settle.
Then she asked, “How long have you known Charles Whitcomb?”
Camille looked up sharply.
“You know about him?”
“Answer the question.”
Camille took a trembling breath.
“Fourteen years.”
“Did he introduce you to Julien?”
“Yes.”
“Was your marriage part of his plan?”
Camille began crying harder.
“At first.”
Brooks remained still.
“What do you mean, at first?”
Camille looked toward the window.
“I was supposed to get close to Julien. Learn about the company. Convince him to sell.”
“And when he refused?”
“Whitcomb told me to stay.”
“Why?”
“Because I was useful.”
Brooks studied her.
“Did you ever love your husband?”
Camille closed her eyes.
For several seconds, she could not speak.
Then she whispered, “Yes.”
The detective waited.
Camille continued.
“That was the worst part.”
### The marriage that became a prison
Camille explained that she had grown up in financial instability.
Her father had accumulated enormous debts.
Her mother had worked two jobs.
At twenty-three, Camille had accepted a position with a consulting firm secretly connected to Whitcomb.
He recognized her intelligence.
Her ambition.
And her fear of returning to poverty.
He offered money.
Travel.
Opportunity.
Then he introduced her to Julien.
At first, Camille treated the relationship as an assignment.
But Julien surprised her.
He was kind.
Patient.
Generous.
He listened when she spoke.
He encouraged her ambitions.
He trusted her.
And over time, she began to love him.
But Whitcomb never released his hold.
Whenever she resisted, he reminded her of the documents she had signed.
The money she had accepted.
The lies she had told.
By the time Victor entered her life, Camille had become accustomed to living two separate lives.
Victor offered escape.
He promised that once Julien was removed, they could leave Whitcomb behind.
Camille believed him.
Now she understood that Victor had been another trap.
Brooks listened without interrupting.
When Camille finished, the detective asked one question.
“Why didn't you tell Julien the truth?”
Camille stared at her hands.
“Because I thought he'd stop loving me.”
Brooks closed her notebook.
“And now?”
Camille began crying.
“Now I know I never gave him the chance to decide.”
### The blue ledger
Camille finally explained the reference in Olivia's notebook.
The blue ledger was a collection of financial records Whitcomb had maintained through a Swiss private bank.
It documented illegal payments, shell companies, and hidden ownership interests.
Olivia had discovered its existence.
Camille had helped conceal it.
But before disappearing, Olivia had managed to obtain a partial copy.
“Where is it?” Brooks asked.
Camille hesitated.
“I don't know.”
“Camille.”
“I swear.”
Brooks leaned forward.
“Then why did Olivia write your name?”
Camille looked toward the door.
“Because she gave me something.”
“What?”
“A key.”
“To what?”
“A safe-deposit box.”
“Where?”
Camille swallowed.
“Zurich.”
Brooks waited.
“Do you still have it?”
Camille nodded.
“Where?”
Camille looked down.
“Inside my wedding ring.”
Brooks stared at her.
Camille slowly removed the ring.
She pressed a hidden catch.
A tiny compartment opened.
Inside was a narrow metal key.
Brooks carefully collected it.
Camille watched the ring leave her hand.
Eleven years of marriage.
Millions of dollars.
A betrayal that had nearly ended in murder.
And now the symbol of everything she had destroyed was evidence.
But before Brooks could leave, Camille grabbed her arm.
“There's something else.”
“What?”
Camille's voice dropped.
“Olivia isn't dead.”
Brooks froze.
“How do you know?”
May you like
Camille began shaking.
“Because I spoke to her yesterday.”
