"I believe he was."
"Why?"
"I don't know everything. But I know he was working with Richard Whitmore at the time."
Marcus shook his head.
"Victor wasn't even a senior executive in those days."
"He wasn't. He was a consultant for an aviation investment group. But he had connections with the people who controlled the company's executive appointments."
Marcus looked at the letter again.
"What exactly did he do?"
Margaret took a breath.
"He advised Richard Whitmore to prevent your father from being promoted. He believed Samuel's influence among the mechanics was becoming a problem."
"Why would that matter?"
"Because your father had begun encouraging employees to report unsafe practices and unfair treatment."
Marcus's jaw tightened.
"That sounds like something he would do."
Margaret nodded.
"Your father had become popular among employees. People trusted him. He was the person they approached when management ignored their concerns."
"And Victor saw that as a threat?"
"According to Richard's letter, yes."
Marcus stood and walked toward the window.
Atlanta stretched beneath him.
The city looked peaceful from above, its buildings reflecting the afternoon sunlight.
But inside his office, the past was beginning to reveal a disturbing pattern.
"Why would Victor do this?" he asked.
Margaret hesitated.
"Because he believed influence was more important than fairness."
Marcus turned.
"That's not an answer."
"No," she admitted. "But I think the financial records may explain the rest."
She opened her folder and removed several photocopies.
"They concern an investment arrangement involving Richard Whitmore and the company that employed your father."
Marcus examined the documents.
Several payments had been made to a consulting firm.
The amounts were significant.
One payment had been authorized shortly after Samuel Bennett's promotion was rejected.
Another appeared three months later.
The consulting firm was called Langford Strategic Aviation.
Marcus recognized the name.
It had been Victor's company.
He looked up.
"These payments were made to Victor?"
"That's what the records suggest."
"Why?"
Margaret shook her head.
"I can't prove it yet."
Marcus studied the documents.
There was no direct evidence that the payments were connected to Samuel's promotion.
But the timing was suspicious.
And Richard's letter suggested that Victor had influenced the decision.
"Why didn't you give this information to the investigators twenty years ago?"
Margaret's expression became painful.
"Because I didn't have enough evidence. And because Richard Whitmore threatened to have me dismissed if I continued asking questions."
Marcus sat down.
"Did Victor ever contact you?"
"Once."
"When?"
"About two weeks after your father's resignation."
"What did he say?"
Margaret looked at the photograph on the desk.
"He asked whether Samuel had spoken to anyone about the promotion decisions."
Marcus felt a chill.
"What did you tell him?"
"That your father had said very little."
"Was that true?"
Margaret shook her head.
"No."
"What had my father said?"
She looked directly at him.
"He told me that he wasn't going to let them turn him into an angry man."
Marcus closed his eyes.
He could almost hear his father's voice.
Don't let somebody else's behavior decide who you become.
Margaret continued.
"He also told me that one day, someone might come along who would have the power to change things. He wanted me to make sure that person knew the truth."
Marcus looked at her.
"Why did you wait so long?"
"Because I didn't know who you were becoming."
She paused.
"And because I didn't know whether you would believe me."
Marcus was silent for a moment.
Then he picked up his phone.
"Don't leave this building," he said.
Margaret frowned.
"Why?"
"Because you're going to meet our independent investigators. Everything you have will be copied, documented, and protected."
He stood.
"And I want to speak with Victor."
Victor Langford was in his private office on the twenty-sixth floor when Marcus called.
He was sixty-eight years old, impeccably dressed, and known for his ability to remain calm during difficult negotiations.
His office was decorated with photographs from Meridian Air's early years.
One showed him and Marcus standing beside the company's first aircraft.
Another showed them shaking hands after securing an investment agreement that had saved the company from bankruptcy.
Victor often described Marcus as the most talented young executive he had ever worked with.
He had also privately told several investors that Marcus was too emotional to run a company without experienced guidance.
When his phone rang, he glanced at the screen.
"Marcus. I was just about to call you."
"Do you have a moment?"
"Always."
"I need to discuss something important."
Victor smiled.
"Come upstairs."
Marcus ended the call.
He looked toward the conference room.
Margaret was waiting with the independent investigator.
"Keep these documents secure," he instructed.
"Of course," the investigator replied.
"And nobody contacts Victor about this investigation until I say so."
"Understood."
Marcus took the elevator to the twenty-sixth floor.
He had known Victor for almost twelve years.
He remembered their first meeting.
Marcus had arrived at a small investment conference wearing an inexpensive suit and carrying a business plan that several investors had already rejected.
Victor had been the only person willing to listen.
He had asked difficult questions.
He had challenged the financial projections.
But at the end of the meeting, he had shaken Marcus's hand.
"You've got something here, young man," he had said.
"Something worth building."
Marcus had never forgotten that moment.
Now he wondered whether Victor had seen something else.