Chapter 4: What the Folder Contained
The detective constable's name was Reeves.
She was calm and unhurried in the way that people are when they already have what they came for and are simply waiting for the formalities to catch up.
She sat at the dining table with a notepad and asked Patricia to take a seat.
Patricia remained standing.
"I'd like to call my solicitor."
"You're welcome to do that," Reeves said.
"I'll wait."
Patricia didn't move toward her phone.
She stood very still in the center of the room, and I watched her calculating — the same way I had watched her calculating every social situation for the seven years she had been Ethan's mother.
I had always known she was clever.
I had simply underestimated how long she had been planning.
"Mrs.
Calloway," Reeves said to me, "you mentioned a document.
The one the young woman may have signed."
"Sasha," I said.
"Her name is Sasha."
Reeves wrote it down.
"Sasha.
You believe the document she signed may not be what she was told it was."
"I believe it's a property transfer consent form.
Pre-signed and undated.
Which would allow someone to complete it and file it at a later point without Sasha's further involvement."
Sasha had gone very still on the sofa.
"She told me it was just a formality."
"Can you bring the folder here?" I asked her.
"Tonight, if possible."
"My sister is outside with the car.
She drove me." Sasha looked at the baby.
"I can call her."
"Please."
While Sasha stepped into the hallway to make the call, Ethan finally turned from the window.
He looked at Patricia with an expression I couldn't fully read — not quite anger, not quite grief.
Something between the two.
"Tell me what you did," he said.
"Ethan —"
"Tell me."
Patricia pressed her lips together.
Then: "I was protecting you.
She was never right for you.
She was always going to take everything and leave."
"So you moved the money."
"I kept it safe."
"Into your own account."
"Temporarily."
Ethan laughed.
It was a short, hollow sound.
"How much of what I believed about this marriage came from you?"
Patricia said nothing.
"The arguments.
The things you told me she'd said.
The way you described her to me when she wasn't in the room." He stopped.
"Was any of it true?"
"I told you what you needed to hear."
Reeves was writing steadily.
She didn't look up.
I had heard enough of that particular conversation.
I walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of water.
My fever had dropped slightly in the last hour but my hands were still unsteady.
I stood at the counter and breathed.
My solicitor, a quiet man named Gerald who had known my father for thirty years, appeared in the kitchen doorway.
"The referral has been formally logged," he said.
"They'll want bank records, the transfer history, and any communications between Patricia and the account holder."
"She used email," I said.
"I have seventeen months of forwarded copies.
She didn't know I had access to the secondary account notifications."
Gerald allowed himself a small smile.
"Your father taught you well."
"He taught me to read every document before I signed it." I set the glass down.
"Ethan never did."
Gerald nodded once and returned to the sitting room.
Outside, a car door closed.
Sasha's sister came through the front door carrying a pale green folder.
She handed it to Sasha, who brought it directly to Reeves.
Reeves opened it.
Read the first page.
Then the second.
She looked up at Patricia.
"Ms.
Patricia Calloway," she said, "I'd like you to come with me to answer some questions.
You are not under arrest at this time, but I strongly advise you to contact your solicitor before we begin."
Patricia looked at Ethan.
Ethan looked at the floor.
She picked up her bag.
Walked to the door.
Then stopped with her hand on the frame and turned back to face the room.
"You think you've won something," she said.
Her voice had recovered its steadiness.
"You haven't.
You've only made an enemy."
I looked at her from across the room.
"Patricia.
You've been my enemy for seven years.
The difference is that now everyone in this room knows it."
She left.
The door closed behind her.
Sasha's baby woke up and began to cry softly, and Sasha lifted her and held her close, and for a moment that small sound was the only thing in the room.
May you like
Then Ethan said, very quietly: "What happens to me now?"
And I realized the harder question was still waiting to be answered.
