Chapter 7: What the Records Showed
Her name was Donna Marsh, and she had worked in financial fraud recovery for eleven years before going independent.
I had met her three years earlier through a colleague at work.
I had never needed her professionally.
I called her the next morning at seven-thirty, before Jamie was awake, before Dad had come downstairs.
She picked up on the second ring.
"I need your help," I said.
"It involves a misappropriated inheritance, a signed transfer document, and a woman who just called me offering to hand over records in exchange for immunity."
A pause.
"How long ago did the transfer happen?"
"About thirteen years."
"And the original account — was it formally established?
Documented?"
"My mother set it up before she died.
There's a letter explaining it.
I have the letter."
"Okay," Donna said.
"Send me everything you have.
I'll look at it today."
By nine o'clock, I had photographed every document Dad had been able to find — three bank statements, a handwritten note with account numbers, and a letter from a solicitor he'd never followed up with.
I sent them to Donna.
By noon, she called back.
"The account was real," she said.
"I found a record of it.
It was opened in your name as a minor, with your mother listed as the establishing party.
The balance at the time of the first unauthorized transfer was significant."
"How significant?"
She told me the number.
I sat down.
"That's what was in there when they took it?" I said.
"That's the opening balance at the point of transfer.
There may have been more before that." A pause.
"The transfer was authorized with a signature.
The signature matches your father's name.
But the transfer destination is a business account registered to a company called Clearview Style Ltd."
"That was Claire's boutique."
"Claire's boutique," Donna said, "was registered to two directors.
Claire Harmon was one.
The second director was a man named Paul Harmon."
I went still.
"Who is Paul Harmon?"
"Her brother," Donna said.
"He was listed as a silent partner.
He had full access to the business accounts."
"So the money didn't just go into a failing boutique."
"The boutique lost money, yes.
But not all of the money that came in went toward the boutique's operations.
There are withdrawals to a personal account registered to Paul Harmon that don't correspond to any business expense I can identify."
"She was splitting it," I said.
"It looks that way.
Claire took a portion.
Her brother took a portion.
Your father's name is on the original transfer, which makes him the visible point of liability.
But the people who actually benefited from the funds were Claire and Paul Harmon."
I stood up and walked to the window.
The street outside was quiet.
A neighbor was walking a dog.
A completely ordinary Tuesday morning.
"Can we prove this?" I said.
"With the records Claire claims to have, possibly yes.
The question is whether what she hands over is complete or selective." Donna's voice was careful.
"She'll give you enough to implicate your father and protect herself.
She won't give you anything that connects the Harmon withdrawals to her directly unless she has no choice."
"What would force her hand?"
"A formal complaint to the financial regulator.
Once there's an official inquiry, she can't selectively produce documents.
She has to produce everything, or she's obstructing."
"And if we file a complaint—"
"Her offer disappears," Donna said.
"She stops cooperating and starts defending.
It becomes slower and harder.
But it becomes complete."
I thought about that.
"What do you recommend?" I said.
"I recommend you call her back," Donna said.
"Accept the meeting.
Let her hand over what she's prepared to hand over.
And while you're sitting across from her, you tell her that you already know about Paul."
Silence on the line.
"Watch what she does next," Donna said.
"That will tell you everything."
I thanked her and hung up.
I stood in the kitchen for a moment.
Then I walked to the bottom of the stairs.
"Jamie," I called.
May you like
"Get dressed.
We have a meeting to set up."
