Page 80 of Sebastian.

“Sebastian, Julia, allow me to introduce you to the brilliant minds who have been working tirelessly on this case to find answers in the shortest time possible.” She starts with Dr. Martinson, a seasoned pathologist. Next is Helen, the digital forensics expert, who did much of the heavy lifting when it came to tracking down old, nearly forgotten records from Karl’s past. Then, there's Ian, the demolitions expert. Gabi explains that anytime explosives are involved, he’s the one she chooses to investigate.

I’m pleased to greet each of them, knowing that unraveling a case over two decades old is a daunting task. Any progress feels miraculous, and Gabi calling this meeting suggests we might be onto something significant.

Gabi looks at us after she finishes with introductions, and there’s a glimmer in her eyes. “Now that you’ve met everyone, I can tell you that we really believe we’re closing in on some answers. In fact, we’re so close that I didn’t want to proceed any further without discussing it with both of you in person.”

She takes her place at the head of the table, switches off the overhead lights, and connects a sleek silver laptop to the projector system. Instantly, her desktop screen appears on the projector, and she pulls up a slideshow that details just what she’s been working on with her team.

“Thank you both for coming,” Gabi begins as we all take our seats. “This case is close to my heart, not just because Julia is my best friend, but also because this mystery haunted my father when he worked as a prosecutor. Solving this case will be the highlight of my career.”

She pauses, clicking a button on her laptop, and the screen displays a timeline.

“Let’s start with the explosion, which happened during your ill-fated trip to Hungary, a seemingly ordinary family visit to Johannes's brother's estate for a company-sponsored hunt. That idyllic day took a catastrophic turn. Sebastian, as you know, you lent your vintage car to your brother, who had been asking to borrow it for ages.”

A shudder runs down my spine, but I nod and listen as Gabi reviews her notes. Noticing my unease, Julia rubs my back affectionately, a comforting gesture during the revisit of the worst day of my life.

“Of course, Karl had no idea your brother would drive it. So he, or whoever planted the bomb, presumed you would be the one starting the vehicle after the hunting trip.” Gabi's eyes flicker with empathy as she continues, “The case had long been considered unsolvable, a grim chapter in our lives, especially yours, Seb.”

“But as we all know, Gabi doesn’t back down from a challenge,” Helen, the forensics expert, adds, lightening the mood a bit.

The prosecutor offers a slight grin before continuing. “I embarked on a mission to revisit the original case files and all of the old notes taken at the scene. They were meticulously detailed, with several details that caught my attention. However, the old surveillance tapes from the estate were more intriguing.”

I lean forward in my seat. “We were told there wasn’t anything on those tapes.”

Gabi nods. “Yes, that's correct. There is literally nothing on the tapes from the crucial hours. The security cameras were deliberately disconnected between 1 and 3 AM. Ample time to tamper with your car.”

As Gabi delves deeper into the enigma, the emerging narrative becomes clearer. “Karl Townsend, who was also in Hungary at the time, would've needed someone to do his dirty work. That's why I needed his old phone records and a record of his transactions on his company card. In the company's archives, I found a more comprehensive record of his calls. As I sifted through them, a particular number kept surfacing around the time of the trip to Hungary. After some investigation, Helen discovered the number belonged to a notorious bomb-maker, known in the system but never convicted. He hasn’t been active in over a decade, but he would have been in his prime around the time we suspect Karl hired him.”

I can't help but raise my brows at the revelation. “Of course Karl would use the company's phone. He was a salesman; making regular calls was part of his job. We never suspected him, so there was no way anyone could've noticed.”

“To confirm my suspicions,” Gabi continues, her voice filled with confidence, “I reached out to forensic metallurgy experts to re-examine the bomb fragments preserved from the scene. They identified traces of a rare metal alloy unique to explosives crafted by the same bomb-maker we linked to that phone number.”

A collective realization dawns. Gabi has done it. Despite the obstacles and the time since the crime, she's unearthed the evidence we needed.

“I also reviewed his employee credit card statements. Among them, I discovered several large payments made around the time of the bombing. These transactions went to a now-defunct shell company owned by none other than our bomb-maker.”

“Damn,” I murmur, realizing Karl even used company funds to orchestrate the attack. “My dad trusted him implicitly. I bet Karl had no spending limit on that card.”

The room falls silent as we absorb the implications.

“The bomb-maker, now retired, was tracked down and questioned,” Gabi continues, showing a profile photo on screen, though withholding his name. “While he couldn't recall specifics, he remembered a job—paid in full by a man with a deep voice and a unique Dutch-British accent. Sound like Karl, doesn't it?”

My mouth dries up, and all I manage is a nod. Dr. Martinson passes me a bottle of water, which I gratefully accept.

“The bomb-maker confirmed he never saw the client’s face. However, the client had an uncanny knowledge about the Van den Bosch family. He specified the bomb should explode outside the estate, suggesting a vested interest in preserving it,” Gabi says, glancing at her notes. “And that’s precisely what happened—the car exploded seven minutes after your brother started it, right outside the estate.”

The weight of the revelation is almost suffocating in the dimly lit meeting room. I feel Julia’s hand, discreetly searching for mine beneath the table. It’s a lifeline to hold on to, and it settles me. She calms me, like she always does, my sweet Julia.

Gabi continues, detailing evidence and insights, but her voice fades into the background. The only thought echoing in my mind is Karl's betrayal. The man I’d supported and trusted was the one behind my family's murder. The path ahead is clear: Karl needs to face the consequences.

The presentation wraps up, and, sensing the need for privacy, Gabi requests that everyone except Julia and me vacate the room. Alone with Gabi, I feel a surge of gratitude for her unwavering dedication to uncovering the truth so quickly.

“I believe we should pursue more than just a settlement, given the overwhelming evidence,” Gabi asserts, sitting down. “Murder is a far more severe charge than tampering with evidence.”

She’s right…this has changed everything. We’ve gone so far beyond sabotaging Roxanne’s cabaret and career that it hardly even feels related. A settlement, regardless of the amount, will never heal the wounds inflicted on our family. I've waited far too long to see justice served, and to me, money is no object.

“All I know,” I reply with conviction as I lean forward, “is that I want him behind bars, to leave us in peace. You can assign him as many years as the law permits. I simply want him gone, from our family and my company, for good.”

Gabi nods. “I’m confident we’ve got him pinned, Seb. We should go to court with this evidence. We can get him a life sentence.”

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