Chapter 8: What Karen Did Next
I called Karen directly.
She picked up on the first ring, which told me she'd been expecting it.
"He offered you a promotion," I said.
"Assistant director level.
It would mean a significant pay increase." Her voice was careful.
Not guilty.
Careful.
"I want you to know I'm telling you this because I think you should know, not because I'm considering it."
"Are you?"
"No.
But I needed him to believe I was." A pause.
"He's going to move the money."
I stood up from Carol's table.
"What?"
"If he thinks I'm on his side, he'll feel safe.
And if he feels safe, he might make a mistake." She paused again.
"I work in finance, Laura.
I know how these transfers work.
If he moves that money before your solicitor can get a court order to freeze the accounts, it becomes much harder to trace."
"How long do we have?"
"I don't know.
Days, maybe.
He's not stupid.
He'll move carefully.
But he will move."
I was already reaching for my bag.
"I need to call Patricia."
"There's something else." Karen's voice dropped slightly.
"The property company.
I looked it up this morning after I sent you the photograph.
It's not just a shell.
There are two properties registered to it.
One was purchased eleven months ago.
The other six months ago."
Six months ago.
The same month Carol had seen Daniel laughing outside the anniversary restaurant.
"He was buying property," I said.
"While living in your house.
Yes."
"With our money."
"With your money, partly.
The deposits would have needed to come from somewhere.
The transfers I photographed would have covered at least one of them."
I thought of the anniversary bracelet.
The dinner.
The way he had reached across the table and fastened the clasp himself, and how I had thought, sitting there, that maybe the distance I'd been feeling for months was just the ordinary drift of a long marriage.
That maybe this was him trying.
"Karen," I said.
"Why are you doing this?"
A pause.
"Because I watched him do it," she said.
"I watched him for fourteen months, and I told myself it wasn't my business, and I kept telling myself that right up until I heard your voice through his phone last night saying *my name is on that mortgage.* And I thought — someone should have said something a long time ago."
I didn't answer immediately.
"Call your solicitor," Karen said.
"Tell her about the properties.
Tell her he may try to move funds.
Ask about an emergency freezing order."
"Will you give a formal statement?"
"Yes," she said.
"I'll come in tomorrow if she can see me."
I called Patricia Hale from the car before I'd even started the engine.
Her assistant put me through in under a minute.
"He has two properties," I said when Patricia answered.
"Purchased with transferred funds.
And he may try to move money before you can get a freeze in place."
Patricia was quiet for exactly two seconds.
"I'll file for an emergency preservation order this afternoon," she said.
"It won't be granted immediately, but filing creates a record.
If he moves assets after we've filed, that becomes evidence of intent."
"My witness will come in tomorrow."
"Good.
Have her bring everything she has — the photograph, any emails, any other documentation.
The more contemporaneous evidence, the stronger the position."
"What happens after the order?"
"If it's granted, his accounts are frozen pending full financial disclosure.
He won't be able to transfer, sell, or encumber anything without court approval." A pause.
"Laura.
If what you're describing is accurate — the account, the transfers, the properties — this is no longer just a divorce.
This is financial misconduct during a marriage.
The court takes that seriously."
I looked through the windscreen at Carol's front garden.
The roses she'd planted the year her husband d*ed.
She'd tended them every spring since.
"He called it a matter of interpretation," I said.
"It isn't," Patricia said.
"I'll call you when the filing is confirmed."
May you like
I sat in the car for a moment after we hung up.
Then I went back inside and helped Carol finish the statements.
