Chapter 1
The grayness of the early morning sky over Manhattan was ominous as though the city itself sensed an impending catastrophe. Sirens broke the stillness of the quiet neighborhood at 5:42 AM. The glass windows of a tall Upper East Side condominium were illuminated by flashing red and blue lights. A 38-year-old investment consultant named Daniel Harper stood motionless in his silk pajamas in Apartment 1703 his hands raised in disbelief. The front door had been kicked open and armed NYPD officers were soon inside his house pointing their weapons at him. Were going to arrest you for killing Greg Lawson Daniel Harper. The words of the chief officer reverberated like a death sentence throughout the apartment. Daniels voice broke his dazed brain attempting to take in the situation. Killing?. No. No you must be mistaken! I didn't—). Get on your knees and place your hands behind your head. . Two policemen hurried forward took hold of his arms and pushed him onto the cool marble floor before he had a chance to comprehend what was happening. As handcuffs clicked firmly around his wrists his cheek pressed against the floor. In a panic Daniel exclaimed Please wait!. You're talking about something I have no idea what. . One of the cops yelled Save it for the court and grabbed him by the neck. Daniel quickly glanced around his apartment as they pulled him toward the door there was no indication of a struggle or forced entry. He left everything exactly as he had left it the previous evening. How on earth could he have killed someone while he was sleeping in his own bed?Then just past the policemen he noticed two men in black suits standing in the hallway. The NYPD wasn't them. They weren't the FBI. However the aloof and chilly way they observed him made his blood freeze. One of them smirked slowly and knowingly at him then turned and left an older man with a sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes. Identify them. Daniel was not given the opportunity to ask. After dragging him into the hallway the officers led him down the elevator and out into the streets flashing chaos. Outside the building a crowd of reporters cameras and journalists had already assembled. Mr. Are you telling the truth Harper that you and Greg Lawson had a financial argument?Are you admitting to the homicide?. What are your thoughts on the accusations?. Claims? Which accusations?Daniel was pushed into the waiting squad car by a hand that grabbed his shoulder before he could respond. Panic began as the door slammed. This was more than a simple arrest. This was a pretext. It was six hours earlier. The previous night at 11:30 p. m. Greg Lawson was a rich businessman with strong political connections who had built an empire based on secrets over the past ten years. However he was terrified tonight. Greg was sitting stooped over his desk in his private Lawson Enterprises office cramming a stack of papers into a manila envelope with shaking hands. His cell rang. a limited quantity. . . After hesitating Greg responded. Its finished. I am in possession of everything. . A chilly silence. A cold smooth voice then came. All right. Then you are aware of what follows. . Greg's breathing became labored. Please let me vanish. Nobody must know. . . Another moment of silence. The voice then gave a quiet chuckle. “Mr Lawson good bye. . . There was no more line. A jarring sound behind him. With a creak the office door opened. In horror Greg's eyes widened as he spun around. Hold on please—. There was a single gunshot. Greg Lawson fell to his desk blood splattering on the incomplete documents below. The manila envelope fell from his hand and onto the ground. Before the darkness engulfed him the last thing he saw was a familiar face looking back at him. Interrogation Room NYPD Headquarters Present Day. Daniel sat with his heart hammering against his ribs handcuffed to the cold steel table. Detective Marcus Lane leaned forward opposite him his eyes fixed on him. Harper start talking. . . . Daniel forcefully swallowed. I'm not sure what you believe I did but I didn't murder Greg Lawson. . . Detective Lane remained motionless. Then describe this. . He slid a grainy surveillance photo across the table and took it out. Daniel felt uneasy. He did it. Alternatively someone who bore a striking resemblance to him. At precisely 11:45 PM last night when Greg Lawson was killed the photo showed a man who bore Daniels exact facial features and build entering Lawson Enterprises. Daniels mouth became parched. This—this isn't me he stumbled to say. Lane the detective bent closer. So tell me what caused your fingerprint to be discovered on the murder weapon?. Daniels blood became icy. He had never even been close to Greg Lawsons office so how could that have happened?Then something came to mind. the suit-wearing men. The man whose blue eyes pierced. Daniels voice was hardly audible above the detectives gaze. They are framing me. . Detective Lane grinned. Harper you're going to fall for this. . . Subsequently the door abruptly opened. Breathless a young officer hurried in. Detective something is wrong. . . Lanes brow furrowed. What's the issue?After a moment of hesitation the officer gave him a tablet. As Lane scanned the screen his expression darkened. Daniel craned his neck in a desperate attempt to determine the reason behind the detectives abrupt change. Then with an unreadable expression Lane looked up. He rotated the tablet. The breath caught in Daniels throat. A second surveillance video from a different camera angle was displayed on the screen. The same man who bore a striking resemblance to Daniel was seen entering the building. However something was different this time. The time stamp. At 11:45 p. m. and 11:46 p. m. The two Daniels are the same. Two distinct locations. concurrently. In his ears Daniels pulse roared. Detective Lane muttered What the hell…?. Daniel was struck like a sledgehammer by the realization. The person who had set him up had gone to unthinkable lengths to do so. And if they were able to do this. How else could they do it?There was a stunned silence in the room. Next the radio of Detective Lane crackled. We have a problem sir. Recently the senator called. . . Lane became rigid. Who is the senator?Daniel felt shivers down his spine at the response. Richard Davenport a senator. We must release Harper right away he says. . . Daniels heart was racing. Why would one of the nations most influential men be involved in his case?And above all. . . Was he a supporter?The man who desired his death?
