Chapter 7: Raymond
Raymond Lau agreed to meet.
That surprised Adrian.
He had expected resistance.
Lawyers, delays, a wall of silence.
Instead, when Adrian called the number Vanessa had given Mr.
Holt, Raymond picked up himself and said, with no particular emotion, that he could be at the house by ten the following morning.
Adrian told him to come to the office instead.
Raymond arrived exactly on time.
He was in his late sixties.
Silver-haired, well-dressed, unhurried.
He sat across from Adrian and Mr.
Holt and placed his hands flat on the table as if he had done this many times before.
"I assume Vanessa told you about me," Raymond said.
"She told me your name," Adrian said.
"And that you know things about my father's estate.
Things I was never told."
Raymond looked at him steadily.
"That's true."
"Then tell me."
Raymond glanced at Mr.
Holt.
"Is he recording this?"
"Yes," Adrian said.
"With your knowledge.
That's why I told you before you sat down."
Raymond nodded slowly.
He seemed to be making a decision.
"Your father came to me six years before he passed," Raymond said.
"He was concerned about the estate.
Not the main assets — those were straightforward.
He was concerned about a secondary property portfolio.
Eight properties, held under a separate holding company.
He didn't want them to go through the main estate process because he was worried about certain family members contesting the will."
"Which family members?" Adrian asked.
"Your uncle.
Your father's brother.
There had been a dispute.
Money borrowed, not repaid.
Your father had cut him out of the main will years earlier, but he was afraid the uncle would challenge it and tie everything up in litigation for years." Raymond paused.
"So he restructured the secondary portfolio.
He placed it into a trust.
The trust was designed to pass directly to you, outside of the probate process, when you turned forty."
Adrian was very still.
"I turned forty eight months ago."
"Yes," Raymond said.
"No one told me."
"No," Raymond said.
"No one did."
"Why not?"
Raymond looked at the table for a moment.
"Because eighteen months before you turned forty, Vanessa came to me."
The room was very quiet.
"She had found a copy of the trust document.
I don't know how.
She told me that if I transferred the management of the trust to a new holding company — one she controlled — she would ensure that certain information about my own financial history would remain private."
"She blackmailed you," Adrian said.
"Yes."
"And you agreed."
Raymond met his eyes.
"I did.
I'm not proud of it.
But yes, I did."
Adrian leaned forward.
"So where is the trust now?"
"Still intact," Raymond said.
"She moved the management but she couldn't touch the underlying assets without your signature.
She's been trying to get you to sign documents for the past eight months.
Routine paperwork, she called it.
Refinancing.
Administrative updates."
Adrian thought about the stack of papers Vanessa had placed on his desk three months ago.
He had been traveling.
She had said it was urgent.
He had signed without reading carefully.
"What did I sign?" he asked.
His voice was very quiet.
Raymond opened his briefcase and placed a document on the table.
"This.
A transfer of beneficial interest.
If it had been filed, it would have moved the trust assets out of your name entirely."
"Was it filed?"
"No," Raymond said.
"Because I didn't file it.
I told Vanessa I had.
But I didn't."
Adrian looked at him.
"Why not?"
Raymond was quiet for a moment.
"Because I knew your father.
For thirty years.
And I watched him build that portfolio carefully, property by property, so that you would have something solid.
Something that couldn't be taken from you." He paused.
"I made a mistake agreeing to Vanessa's arrangement.
But I wasn't willing to finish it."
Mr.
Holt was writing steadily.
"The sixty-one thousand from the household account," Adrian said.
"That went to you?"
"To a company I control, yes.
That was Vanessa's payment for my silence." Raymond looked at him.
"I will return every dollar.
With interest.
I want that on the record."
"It's on the record," Mr.
Holt said without looking up.
Adrian sat back.
He looked at the ceiling for a moment.
Then back at Raymond.
"I need everything," Adrian said.
"Every document.
Every communication between you and Vanessa.
Every record of the transfers.
All of it."
"I brought copies," Raymond said.
He reached into his briefcase again.
He placed a second folder on the table.
Thick.
Organized.
Tabbed.
"I've been keeping this," Raymond said, "for eight months.
In case I needed it." He pushed the folder toward Adrian.
"I think I always knew this day would come."
Adrian looked at the folder.
Then at Raymond.
"You could have come to me sooner," Adrian said.
"I could have," Raymond said.
"I should have.
I was afraid." He held Adrian's gaze.
"I'm not afraid now."
Adrian picked up the folder.
"Mr.
Holt," he said.
"I think we have everything we need."
Mr.
Holt closed his notepad.
He looked at Raymond.
"We'll need a formal statement.
Signed and witnessed."
"I'll sign it today," Raymond said.
"Whatever you need."
Adrian stood.
He didn't offer his hand to Raymond.
He wasn't ready for that.
But he nodded once.
He walked to the window and looked out at the street below.
May you like
Somewhere across the city, Vanessa was waiting to hear how the meeting had gone.
She was about to find out.
