Chapter 693: The Olive Branch

The day before Michael Erickson's hearing, he received a message that changed his mind about how much he was willing to tell the investigators.

It came through his lawyer, delivered during a scheduled consultation at the police station. There was no letterhead, no signature, and no direct threat. His lawyer placed a folded sheet of paper on the table and explained that it had been passed to him through someone who wanted to remain unnamed.

Michael looked at the paper without touching it. "Who sent this?"

"My understanding is that it came from someone who knows people you have worked with over the years," his lawyer replied. "I was asked to make sure you received it. I wasn't given much else."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only answer I have."

Michael opened the paper and read the message twice. The wording was careful, almost polite. It said that certain people were concerned about the direction of his cooperation with investigators and hoped he would remember the arrangements that had benefited everyone involved. It reminded him that there were still people who could assist with his legal expenses, speak to the right people about his circumstances, and make sure he was not left entirely alone if he eventually received a custodial sentence.

The final line was brief.

You have protected one another for years. We trust you will continue to do so.

Michael put the paper down and stared at it. He did not need a name to understand the message. He knew the people behind it, even if he could not identify the individual who had arranged for it to reach him. Some were politicians who had used his financial network to move money through companies that looked legitimate on paper. Others had benefited from business arrangements that would not survive a serious investigation. A few had approached him privately when they needed something done without their names appearing in the records.

He had kept their secrets because it had been profitable, and because the people involved had enough influence to make cooperation worthwhile. For years, he had believed that their interests and his were tied together so tightly that none of them could afford to abandon him.

Now they were reminding him of that relationship when he had almost nothing left.

His lawyer waited for him to speak before pulling the paper back toward himself. "Do you know who sent it?"

"I know what they want."

"Then you should be careful about how you interpret it. An offer to help with legal expenses is not necessarily improper, but the wording suggests that the sender is concerned about what you may disclose. If anyone is trying to influence your evidence, we need to understand that before you respond."

Michael gave him a hard look. "You think I don't understand what they're doing?"

"I think you understand it very well. That is why I'm asking you not to make a decision because you're frightened."

"I'm not frightened."

His lawyer did not challenge him immediately. The silence made the denial sound weaker than Michael had intended, and he turned away to look at the wall. He had spent most of his adult life in offices where people waited for his approval. If he needed something, someone arranged it. If a problem arose, he paid for it to disappear or found a person who could make it disappear. Even the people who disliked him had usually been careful about showing it.

He had never spent a night in prison. Until recently, the possibility had seemed too remote to deserve serious thought. His money, connections, lawyers, and knowledge of other people's secrets had always given him a way out of situations that trapped ordinary people.

That confidence had been damaged when the police took his devices, restricted his privileges, and began asking questions about records he had assumed were buried beneath layers of companies and transactions. It had weakened further when Dayo visited him and made it clear that the evidence had not appeared by accident. Michael could still deny things, argue over details, and challenge what investigators presented, but he could no longer pretend the case would disappear simply because he demanded that it should.

The prospect of prison frightened him more than he wanted to admit. He had heard stories from people who had spent time inside, and he knew enough about the world to understand that money did not solve every problem once a person lost control of where he lived, who he saw, and how he spent his day. Even if his legal team managed to reduce the damage, he could still face years away from the life he had built.

He picked up the paper again.

"They're offering to help," he said.

"They're offering assistance while reminding you to protect them," his lawyer corrected. "Those are two different things."

"Perhaps they are. But what happens if I tell the investigators everything? Do you think these people will sit quietly while I drag their names into the case? They'll deny knowing anything. They'll say I acted alone. They will have better lawyers than most people can afford, and they'll make sure every detail is challenged."

"That is possible."

"And if I keep talking, I could give them more reason to treat me as a threat. I have already supplied information. I have already answered questions. I don't need to hand over every name I have ever heard simply because investigators keep asking."

His lawyer folded his hands on the table. "You need to distinguish between information you know to be true and information you suspect. You also need to understand that withholding relevant evidence can create further problems for you. If you intend to cooperate, you should do so honestly and through the proper process. Don't make promises to people outside the investigation, and don't let anyone persuade you to give a false account."

Michael knew the warning was sensible, but it did not answer the question that had been troubling him since the message arrived. He had to decide how much he could afford to lose.

The people who had contacted him were offering something he badly wanted: the belief that his life would not become completely unbearable after the hearing. They could pay legal bills without making the money trail obvious to the public. They could use their influence to make inquiries about his eventual custody arrangements. They could maintain contact with people who might be able to help him navigate a system he had never expected to enter.

None of that guaranteed his freedom, and he was not foolish enough to believe they could simply call a judge and end the case. But he did not need a guarantee. At that moment, he needed a reason to believe he still had allies.

The offer felt like an olive branch. Michael took it as one, because the alternative was to accept that the people who had benefited from him might leave him to face everything alone.

"I won't lie for them," he said at last, although he was already considering how much truth he could leave out. "But I'm not going to volunteer every detail of every arrangement. I'll answer the questions I can answer, and I'll provide the records that are directly relevant to the matters already under investigation. If they want to know about people who aren't part of those matters, they'll need to ask specific questions."

His lawyer studied him. "That approach may not protect you as much as you think."

"It doesn't have to protect me completely. It only has to keep this from getting worse than it already is."

"You need to understand that the investigators may interpret selective cooperation as an attempt to conceal information."

"They can interpret it however they like. I'm not going to hand them every person who ever did business with me and then sit here pretending I have nothing to lose."

His lawyer did not agree, but he could see that Michael had made his decision. They spent the rest of the consultation discussing the upcoming hearing, the evidence already supplied, and the questions Michael might face. His lawyer repeated that he should not destroy records, invent explanations, or make false statements to protect anyone. Michael listened without offering a firm answer about how much more he would disclose.

By the time the consultation ended, he had convinced himself that he had chosen the sensible path. He would cooperate enough to help his own case, but he would not volunteer everything. If the powerful people who had sent the message kept their word, perhaps he could avoid the worst outcome. If they did not, he would still have to deal with the consequences of his own decisions.

He returned to his holding area with the folded message in his memory and a new reason to hold something back.

Outside the station, the story of Michael Erickson was already moving beyond the financial records that had first drawn public attention. For years, he had been described as a difficult but successful music executive, a man who controlled one of the largest record labels in the world and had the influence to make careers or bring them to a halt. Now reporters were examining allegations that reached far beyond his business decisions, including financial fraud, abuse of power, sexual misconduct, and other possible criminal activity.