A sound expert had fixed the audio from that call.
“Take the video tapes out before the police arrive,” Katie said on the phone. “The boy must not be linked to our clinic. Pay off the builder and the news. My son Alistair must never know.”
The whole room became completely quiet.
Katie’s face turned white.
“That video is fake,” she whispered.
“Three experts checked it,” Alistair said. “I already gave a copy to the police chief this morning.”
The old woman looked like she had been hit.
“Are you sending your own mother to jail?” she asked.
“I am stopping the person who tried to steal my son, hid his death, and left his mother to live on the street with one leg,” Alistair said.
Katie looked at the board members for help, but everyone looked down at the table. She had ruled the clinic for forty years, giving out jobs and money. Many people owed her their success, but the evidence was too big.
