Chapter 6: What the Board Members Knew
Richard Ashby arrived first.
He was sixty-one, silver-haired, and had the careful posture of a man who had spent decades in boardrooms managing the distance between himself and difficult truths.
He sat down across from me in the small conference room Diane had arranged — just the two of us, no attorneys — and placed both hands on the table as if to demonstrate he had nothing to hide.
"Mrs.
Vance," he began.
"Ms.
Vance," I said.
"Of course.
My apologies." He adjusted his cufflink.
"I want you to know that I resigned because I felt the board's continued silence was no longer something I could be part of."
"When did you find out?" I asked.
"Find out about what, specifically?"
"Don't do that," I said.
"You know what I'm asking."
He was quiet for a moment.
His hands moved slightly on the table.
"Marcus told me about the messages approximately one week before Julian confronted you," he said.
"He framed it as a security concern.
A potential leak.
He said the evidence had been discovered by the IT team and that he was managing the situation."
"And you believed him."
"I had no reason not to." He paused.
"At the time."
"When did you have a reason?"
Another pause.
Longer.
"About eight months after the divorce was finalized.
There was an internal audit — unrelated, routine — and one of the server logs flagged an anomaly in the tablet sync records from that period.
I asked Marcus about it privately." He stopped.
"What did he say?"
"He said it was a technical artifact.
Nothing to worry about." Richard looked at the table.
"But the way he said it."
"You knew," I said.
He didn't deny it.
"I told myself it wasn't my place to reopen something that was already settled," he said.
"That it would cause more harm than good."
"More harm to whom?"
He didn't answer.
"To the company," I said.
"You mean more harm to the company."
"I'm not proud of it."
"No." I looked at him steadily.
"I don't imagine you are."
The second board member, a woman named Patricia Osei, came in an hour later.
She was younger than Richard — late forties, precise and direct.
She sat down and spoke before I had a chance to open my mouth.
"I found out two years ago," she said.
"Not eight months.
Two years.
And I should have come forward then, and I didn't, and I have no excuse that I'm willing to offer you."
I studied her.
"What stopped you?" I asked.
"Honestly?" She met my eyes.
"I didn't know about the girls.
I knew the messages had been fabricated.
I didn't know you'd tried to contact Julian.
I didn't know there were children." Her voice stayed level, but something moved underneath it.
"When the filing came through and I read the full scope of what Marcus had done — the letters, the cease and desist — I went home and I couldn't sleep."
"That's not the same as doing something," I said.
"No," she said.
"It isn't."
We sat with that for a moment.
"I'll testify," she said.
"Whatever you need.
Deposition, court, public statement.
I'll say exactly what I knew and when I knew it and what I failed to do."
"Why now?"
She looked at me directly.
"Because I have a daughter," she said.
"She's seven.
And I kept thinking — what if someone did this to her?
What if someone took everything from her and the people who knew just...
stayed quiet because it was easier?"
I didn't say anything.
"I know that's not your problem," Patricia said.
"I'm not asking you to care about my reasons.
I'm just telling you the truth."
I nodded once.
After she left, I sat alone in the conference room for a few minutes.
Diane knocked and opened the door.
"How did it go?"
"Richard knew for three years and said nothing." I gathered my things.
"Patricia knew for two and is willing to testify."
"We can use Patricia." Diane leaned against the doorframe.
"Richard's silence is harder to prosecute but it won't play well publicly."
"No," I said.
"It won't."
I stood up and put on my coat.
"Diane," I said, "how long before Marcus can be named in a formal complaint to the financial regulator?"
She considered.
"If Patricia gives her statement this week — ten days.
Maybe less."
May you like
I buttoned my coat.
"Schedule her deposition for Monday," I said.
