Chapter 7: The One More Thing
"Diane has a recording," Marcus said.
I turned from the window.
"What kind of recording?"
"A phone call.
From about three years ago, before Evan was born.
You and I had that argument — the bad one, in February.
You remember it."
I remembered it.
We had been fighting about money.
About his mother's habit of arriving unannounced.
About whether we were ready for a child.
It had been a bad night.
Things had been said that neither of us meant.
"She recorded a phone call," I said slowly.
"Not her.
She had someone else do it.
I don't know how.
But she played it for me in January when I confronted her.
She said if I tried to cut contact with her, she would share it with the family.
She said it proved you never wanted Evan.
That you'd said so yourself."
"I was scared," I said.
"We were both scared.
That's what people say when they're scared."
"I know."
"She recorded a private phone call and used it to blackmail you into silence."
He didn't correct the word.
I sat back down at the table.
The photograph was still between us.
"Does she still have it?"
"I assume so."
"Has she shared it with anyone?"
"She threatened to.
She hasn't yet, as far as I know."
I thought about the fourteen messages from the night before.
The cousins calling me unstable.
The two who said I should apologize.
"She's been building a case," I said.
"For years.
The emails.
The solicitor.
The recording.
She's been collecting things."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Marcus rubbed the back of his neck.
"The house is worth a lot more than it was when Dad left it to me.
Property values have gone up significantly.
I think at some point it stopped being about family and became about money."
"It was always about money," I said.
"She just dressed it up as family."
He didn't disagree.
I picked up my phone and called Ruth.
She answered on the second ring.
"Did you send us a photograph?" I asked.
"Yes," Ruth said.
"I took it myself.
I followed them that day because I suspected what she was doing.
I'm sorry I didn't come to you sooner."
"I need to ask you something.
Does Diane still have access to a recording of a private phone call between me and Marcus?"
A pause.
"She's mentioned it.
Yes."
"Do you know where she keeps it?"
"On her phone.
And possibly backed up somewhere.
She showed it to me once, to try to convince me you were the problem.
I told her it proved nothing except that two people had a difficult conversation." Ruth paused again.
"What are you planning to do?"
"I'm going to end this," I said.
"But I need to do it properly.
I need everything documented."
"I can help with that," Ruth said.
"I kept copies of everything she sent me.
Every email.
Every message.
I've been keeping records for eight months."
"Can you send them to me tonight?"
"Already done," Ruth said.
"Check your email."
I opened my laptop.
Ruth had sent forty-seven documents.
I started reading.
By the time I reached document nineteen, I had found something Diane had not intended anyone outside her own solicitor to see — a formal letter of instruction, dated eleven months ago, in which she had directed her lawyer to obtain a DNA test result that she claimed to already possess.
A DNA test.
For Evan.
I read the line three times.
Then I picked up the phone and called a family law solicitor whose number I had looked up six months ago and never used.
She answered.
"My name is Claire Bennett," I said.
"I need an appointment as soon as possible.
Tomorrow if you can manage it."
"Can you tell me briefly what this concerns?"
"Harassment.
Attempted property fraud.
Blackmail.
And a DNA test that was conducted on my son without my knowledge or consent."
May you like
The solicitor was quiet for a moment.
"I can see you at nine," she said.
