Deputy Martinez took a half-step closer to Evelyn as the atmosphere in the damp cellar turned hostile.
Deputy Martinez: Ma'am, I advise you to keep your hands where everyone can see them.
Evelyn: Davis, tell this officer he has no right to treat me like a common criminal in my own house!
Davis: Evelyn, please remain silent until we have thoroughly reviewed these filings.
Chloe: How could you do this? Dad was dying of heart failure, and you were wiring his company's reserve funds offshore!
Evelyn: That money was my personal consulting fee! I managed his business relations when he was too weak to talk!
Arthur: Three million four hundred thousand dollars is not a standard consulting fee, Evelyn.
Arthur: Especially when the invoices show forged signatures that Richard clearly documented with handwriting experts.
Arthur turned another page in the binder, showing high-resolution photographic comparisons of Richard's genuine signature.
Arthur: Richard hired a forensic examiner three weeks before his hospitalization. The report is fully certified.
Chloe: He knew. All those days he told me not to worry about his medical bills, he was quietly fighting you.
Evelyn: He was stealing from our shared marital estate to protect you two ungrateful brats!
Chloe: My brother Mark needed life-saving kidney treatments, and you tried to freeze his insurance trust fund!
Evelyn: Mark is not my responsibility! I had my own future security to think about after Richard's health failed!
Davis: Evelyn, stop talking immediately. Every statement you make right now can be used in probate court.
Arthur: Not just probate court, Davis. This qualifies as grand larceny and wire fraud across federal lines.
Arthur reached back into the steel safe and brought out a black recording device labeled with a date from last October.
Arthur: Richard recorded every conversation regarding the offshore fund demands right inside his study.
Evelyn: New York is a one-party consent state, but he didn't have the authority to wiretap his own private bedroom!
Arthur: It was recorded in his personal business office, perfectly legal and fully admissible in federal court.
Chloe took the small recorder into her hands, feeling the weight of her father's desperate struggle.
Chloe: You thought he was weak, Evelyn. You thought because his body was failing, his mind had quit too.
Evelyn: Chloe, let's be reasonable. We can settle this out of court right now without involving federal investigators.
Chloe: Now you want a settlement? Ten minutes ago you were threatening to throw me out into the street.
Evelyn: I will surrender my claim to the Hudson Valley estate. You keep the house, and I take my private investments.
Arthur: Those aren't private investments, Evelyn. Those are corporate funds stolen from the Miller logistics trust.
Arthur: Funds that were earmarked for Chloe and Mark's inheritance and the employees' pension fund.
Evelyn's polished exterior shattered completely, her breathing shallow as she looked at Deputy Martinez.
Evelyn: Davis, we are leaving right now. Get the car ready.
Deputy Martinez: Nobody is leaving just yet, ma'am. Arthur, is there a formal preservation order on the vehicles?
Arthur: Yes, Deputy. The order covers all assets purchased using Miller commercial funds over the last three years.
Arthur: Including the luxury SUV Evelyn drove here today, which was leased through the drained company accounts.
Chloe watched Evelyn's face contort with fury, all the arrogance stripped away in the dim cellar light.
Chloe: Hand over the keys to the SUV, Evelyn. You can take a taxi back to your city apartment.
Evelyn: You will regret this day, Chloe! You think you can run that company without my connections?
Chloe: My mother built those connections long before you bought your way into our family with fake promises.
Chloe: Hand over the keys, or Deputy Martinez can escort you off my property on foot right now.
Evelyn pulled the key fob from her pocket and hurled it against the cellar floor, where it cracked against the stone.
Evelyn: Take your miserable house! It's full of ghosts and dry rot anyway!
She turned on her heel and stormed up the cellar stairs, her high heels clicking frantically against the granite.