Chapter 4 - MASON HEARD THE WORD “SEVENTY-TWO”St. Alden locked Mason’s chart.
Not ordinary password protection.
Emergency integrity status.
Every access logged.
Every edit required secondary approval.
Nora contacted hospital legal.
Charles contacted Boston police.
Grant contacted Lydia.
By noon, Room 927 had more adults entering and leaving than Mason liked.
Grant noticed.
He stopped them.
“One at a time.”
A hospital attorney frowned.
“We need—”
“My son is not a conference room.”
That ended it.
Mason smiled faintly.
Grant sat beside him.
“Want me to stop asking questions for a while?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
Mason nodded.
“I remember more.”
Grant felt tension return.
“Tell me when you’re ready.”
Mason looked toward the door.
Then:
“Grandma came two nights ago too.”
Grant frowned.
“You knew that.”
“No.”
“What?”
Grant had gone home for three hours to shower and change clothes.
He believed Eleanor arrived the next morning.
“She came when you were gone.”
“Who let her in?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was a nurse here?”
“Not when she came.”
Grant’s stomach tightened.
“What did she do?”
“She talked to somebody.”
“On the phone?”
Mason shook his head.
“In the hallway.”
“Who?”
“I couldn’t see.”
“What did you hear?”
The boy closed his eyes.
“A man.”
“What did he say?”
Mason concentrated.
“Something about seventy-two.”
Grant’s pulse increased.
“Exact words if you can.”
Mason whispered:
“He said, ‘Once the seventy-two-hour review is opened, Grant won’t control the process.’”
Grant looked toward Lydia, who was listening on speaker.
She said:
“That is not medical language.”
“What is it?”
“Emergency fiduciary procedure.”
Grant closed his eyes.
The Halcyon trust contained a provision allowing a temporary trustee to be appointed for seventy-two hours during an emergency petition if there was credible evidence the current trustee presented immediate risk to Mason’s assets or welfare.
Grant had never used it.
He barely remembered it.
Lydia continued:
“It was designed for something like hospitalization, disappearance, arrest, or incapacity.”
“Could Eleanor file it?”
“Yes.”
“Has she?”
“I’m checking.”
Grant’s jaw tightened.
Mason continued.
“Grandma said, ‘I only need three days.’”
Grant stared.
“Then what?”
“The man said, ‘Three days gets us the vote.’”
There it was.
Not guesswork anymore.
The hospital scheme and Halcyon vote were directly connected.
Grant leaned back.
Claire’s trust controlled nineteen percent of Halcyon.
Grant owned another seven percent personally.
The merger needed a supermajority.
Without Mason’s block, the deal likely failed.
“Why does Rourke want the merger stopped?” Grant asked Lydia.
“I don’t know.”
Nora answered from the doorway.
“Maybe I do.”
Everyone turned.
She carried a folder.
“I asked a friend in compliance to pull old St. Alden-Halcyon consulting relationships.”
Grant stood.
“And?”
“Rourke was more than an adviser.”
Nora placed the folder down.
Between 2017 and 2020, St. Alden purchased specialized monitoring equipment from Halcyon through a third-party distributor.
Grant recognized the distributor.
Creston Clinical Supply.
“What’s wrong with it?”
Nora pointed.
“Rourke was on the procurement committee.”
“Okay.”
“He also had a financial interest in Creston.”
Grant stared.
“That would be illegal if undisclosed.”
“It appears it was undisclosed.”
“How much?”
“Potentially millions.”
Grant felt cold.
The merger buyer’s due-diligence process would examine historical related-party contracts.
If Rourke secretly profited, it could surface.
Grant asked:
“Why would Eleanor care?”
No one answered.
Mason did.
“Because Grandma owes him.”
Grant turned.
“What?”
The boy looked nervous.
“I heard that too.”
“When?”
“At Christmas.”
Grant’s pulse changed.
Eleanor had spent Christmas at Grant’s home.
She and Claire’s memory had made the holiday complicated but tolerable.
“What did she say?”
Mason thought.
“She told someone, ‘Malcolm, I can’t give you what I don’t have.’”
Grant stared.
“Anything else?”
“Then she said, ‘After the vote, I can fix it.’”
Lydia’s voice sharpened.
“Grant, how much personal money does Eleanor have?”
“I don’t know.”
“Claire’s estate left her anything?”
“No.”
Eleanor had inherited from her husband years earlier, but Grant believed most of it remained.
Maybe not.
Lydia continued:
“If Eleanor owes Rourke significant money, then the arrangement may be reciprocal.”
Rourke helps Eleanor gain control.
Eleanor uses Mason’s voting block to stop merger scrutiny.
Then perhaps uses trust influence to direct other financial decisions.
Grant felt sick.
His son was being used as a lever between two adults with financial exposure.
Then Lydia said:
“I found something.”
Grant stood.
“What?”
“A petition was prepared.”
“Filed?”
“Not yet.”
“By Eleanor?”
“Yes.”
Lydia’s voice became quiet.
“It alleges that during Mason’s hospitalization, you interfered with medical care, intimidated staff, and attempted to remove him prematurely.”
The exact false chart notes.
“What does she request?”
“Temporary suspension of your trustee authority.”
Grant looked at Mason.
“How long?”
Lydia answered:
“Seventy-two hours.”
Silence.
Grant asked:
“And who becomes temporary trustee?”
“Eleanor.”
Mason’s face fell.
Grant immediately said:
“It’s not happening.”
But Lydia did not reassure him.
Instead:
“Grant, there’s a signature page.”
“What signature?”
“Physician certification supporting urgent review.”
Grant’s stomach tightened.
“Signed by who?”
Lydia paused.
“Malcolm Rourke.”
Now they had more than a deleted camera.
More than false notes.
Rourke had already put his professional authority behind Eleanor’s attempt to remove Grant.
And the petition was drafted before the ice-water incident ever happened.
May you like
Which meant Eleanor had not lost control and improvised.
The plan had been in motion before Mason entered the hospital.
Related Stories
