Chapter 5 - An Autopsy Denied
The metallic clink of handcuffs snapping around Victoria Sterling’s wrists sounded like the closing of a tomb.
“Get your hands off me!” Victoria shrieked, kicking wildly as two female FBI agents pinned her against the edge of the altar. Her designer dress was torn, her hair wild, her makeup smeared across her flushed face. “Do you know who I am? I know the Director! I fund your pension funds! You will all be fired by morning! Chloe, call Harrison! Call our lead counsel!”
Chloe didn’t move. She sat huddled in the corner of the front pew, sobbing hysterically into her hands, completely shattered.
Special Agent in Charge David Miller strode up the altar steps, his badge flashing under the chandelier light. He gave a crisp nod to General Vance, then turned his gaze to Evelyn, his posture instinctively straightening in deference to her rank.
“General Cross,” Agent Miller said formally. “Federal warrants have been executed simultaneously across Manhattan, the Sterling estate in the Hamptons, and company headquarters in Bethesda. Marcus Sterling was apprehended twenty minutes ago attempting to fuel his jet at Teterboro Airport. We have seized fifteen terabytes of encrypted communications between Mrs. Sterling and Victor Vance.”
Victoria let out a strangled, animalistic wail.
“You took my son from me!” she screamed at Evelyn, her eyes bulging with hatred. “He was my boy! I raised him! I gave him everything! And you poisoned his mind! You turned him against his own blood!”
Evelyn walked slowly toward the woman who had caused her so much torment. She stopped just inches from Victoria’s face. Despite the physical ache in her belly, despite the exhaustion dragging at her limbs, Evelyn’s gaze was unyielding steel.
“Julian loved this country,” Evelyn whispered, her voice low enough that only Victoria and the arresting agents could hear. “He believed in honor. He believed in protecting people. When he realized that the money you showered him with was covered in the blood of eighteen-year-old soldiers, he wept for hours in my arms. He didn’t betray you, Victoria. You betrayed him the moment you placed your stock portfolio above human life.”
Evelyn looked down at the casket.
“And you didn’t just kill your son,” Evelyn added, her voice dropping into a terrifying register. “You tried to desecrate his final resting place.”
Agent Miller cleared his throat. “General Cross, there is one more urgent matter. Per the emergency order signed by the Chief Medical Examiner this morning, we are revoking the local county coroner’s death certificate.”
Victoria’s head snapped up. “What? No! Julian’s body cannot be touched! He was embalmed! He is to be sealed in the family crypt today! It’s in his father’s trust!”
“Embalmed?” Evelyn turned toward Victoria, her eyes narrowing.
Julian had died late Tuesday night. His body had been pulled from the river early Wednesday morning. It was now only Thursday afternoon. Under normal New York State protocol, an accidental drowning with severe vehicular trauma required a minimum seventy-two-hour holding period for comprehensive toxicology and internal trauma scans before the release of the remains.
“Why was he embalmed within twelve hours of recovery, Victoria?” Evelyn asked, the tactical commander in her immediately identifying the tactical anomaly.
Victoria swallowed, her dry lips parting, but no sound came out.
Attorney Cole stepped up beside Evelyn. “General, we reviewed the chain of custody. Dr. Arthur Bennett, the private coroner on the Sterling family retainer, signed off on the autopsy report at 6:00 AM yesterday without conducting a cranial or thoracic incision. Cause of death was listed as blunt force trauma secondary to drowning. Bennett ordered immediate chemical embalming and sealed the casket before the state examiner could intervene.”
“Bennett was paid off,” Evelyn stated. It wasn't a question.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Cole confirmed. “Bennett’s bank records show a two-hundred-thousand-dollar deposit from a shell corporation tied to Victoria Sterling at 7:15 AM.”
“Why, Victoria?” Evelyn demanded, her voice rising with furious authority. “If Julian died from drowning when his car hit the water, what were you trying to wash out of his tissues with embalming fluid?”
Victoria began trembling violently. She closed her eyes and shook her head, refusing to speak.
Evelyn turned to General Vance. “General Vance.”
“Ma’am!”
“Exercise Title 10 military authority. Under the Uniform Code of Military Justice, Julian Sterling was a registered defense contractor working on a classified Special Access Program at the time of his death. His death is now officially classified as an act of suspected foreign or domestic sabotage against Department of Defense personnel.”
Vance snapped a salute. “Understood, General.”
“Halt the burial,” Evelyn commanded, her voice ringing clear throughout the entire sanctuary. “Transfer Julian’s remains to Dover Air Force Base under full military escort. I want a comprehensive forensic pathology scan performed by the Armed Forces Institute of Pathology. I want full spectrometry, neurotoxin panels, and bone density stress analysis.”
“NO!” Victoria shrieked, thrashing against the FBI agents holding her. “DON’T YOU DARE TAKE MY SON! DON’T YOU TOUCH HIM!”
“You lost the right to call him your son the moment you paid a man to ram his car into the river,” Evelyn said coldly.
Evelyn walked back to the casket. She laid her bloody hand—the hand now bearing her recovered wedding ring—gently upon the cold platinum surface.
“I’m bringing you home, Julian,” she whispered softly, tears finally breaking through her stoic armor. “I’m going to finish what you started.”
She nodded to the four Military Police officers.
With practiced, solemn precision, the soldiers moved to the casket. They unfolded a crisp, pristine United States flag, its stars gleaming in the church light, and draped it carefully across the brushed metal lid, covering the scattered DNA papers and Victoria’s ruined lilies.
As the soldiers lifted the casket onto their shoulders, the entire sanctuary stood in stunned silence.
May you like
The battle for the sanctuary was over. But as Evelyn felt another sharp, painful contraction ripple through her lower abdomen, she knew the war for the truth was only just beginning.
***
