Home > The Liberation of Alice Love(32)

The Liberation of Alice Love(32)
Author: Abby McDonald

Nathan slid into his chair and looked at her, amused. “Straight to the point, huh?”

Alice stopped. “Well, you did arrange the meeting…” she trailed off, embarrassed by her eagerness. Since she’d exhausted every lead her bank statement had provided, she’d been waiting on any new break that could push her profiling along. A withdrawal, a lone payment: anything that would give her a new flash of insight into Ella’s life.

“No, you’re absolutely right.” Nathan pulled the papers closer. “I’m due in Soho at six, and my date…Well, she’s not the most forgiving woman, if you know what I mean.”

Alice smiled along, even as she felt a small twinge of disappointment. Date. Interesting. Not that he would not have one—Alice assumed he was the kind of man who was never unaccompanied—but that he would slip it into the conversation like that, a clear sign that this was to be a professional relationship only.

“There’s not much to report, I’m afraid.” Nathan flipped through the papers to illustrate. “I managed to track the transfer as far as a German bank, but they’re not exactly falling over themselves to help me out. As usual. Don’t worry,” he reassured her. “There are always some sticking points along the trail, but we’ll make it eventually. I just have to pile the pressure on.”

Alice nodded slightly.

“For now, we’ve got this to be dealing with.” Nathan selected a few pages from the bottom of the pile and slid across the desk. “I thought I’d go a little deeper with the loan companies. Just a hunch. They were almost as forthcoming as the Germans,” he added, with a rueful look. “Anyway, I managed to find the account she was using for all the larger transactions. She opened it at another bank, under your name, to keep it off your radar completely. Chances are you’d have noticed if your balance suddenly grew by forty, fifty grand.”

“I would hope.” Alice took the pages, and then looked at the figures, confused. “Wait. It says the account’s been open for months. Why haven’t I known about it?”

He settled back. “There are ways. My best guess: she probably used your birth certificate to open the account in person, then intercepted the mail with all the initial welcome correspondence. Once she had the PIN, she would have just signed you up for paperless statements.”

Simple.

Alice scanned the long list of print. “Let me guess, another overdraft I’m liable for?”

“Actually, no.” Nathan paused, frowning slightly. “There was an overdraft facility set up, but she never used it. I’d say it was her everyday account, for expenses, and moving money around while the bigger loans were processed. She probably didn’t want to draw attention to herself before the time was right. She cleared it out before she ran though.”

“Of course.” Alice nodded. She wouldn’t have expected anything different. Ella was thorough. Then she paused, the fresh pages crisp in her hands. “Is this all the paperwork?”

“Uh, no.” Nathan seemed surprised. “I have a ton of it.”

He was probably expecting sighs or more resignation, but the prospect of new payments filled Alice with excitement. This was her missing link, the clue to Ella’s everyday life. “I’d like copies,” she said, trying to hide her enthusiasm. “Every statement, if I can, and the credit card bills too. For my records,” she added.

“Sure.” Nathan didn’t seem concerned. Crossing to a cabinet, he flipped through, pulling out folders. “Take these, for a start—it’s the bank account transactions and a couple of the cards. I can have copies of the rest delivered on Monday.”

“Perfect.” It was all she could do not to start flicking through the pages right there. A thick wedge of data, just waiting to be untangled? Alice couldn’t wait. She pulled back her chair. “Was there anything else?”

Nathan made a woeful expression. “You’re leaving me already?”

Alice paused. “Well, you did say you had plans…”

“So I did.” Nathan bounced out of his seat. “Sorry I don’t have any better news for you.”

“Oh, this is plenty.” Alice happily clutched the file. “I’ll let you get on with, well, whatever adventure you have planned.” Her eyes drifted to the photos behind him: the energetic, sun-kissed snapshots, no doubt featuring the kings of international finance.

“Skiing in Val d’Isère last year.” Nathan followed her gaze. “And that was a scuba trip in the Caymans, courtesy of a client.”

Alice raised an eyebrow. “You do get around.”

He chuckled, following her toward the door. “Let me guess, it makes me look like—what do you Brits call it? A right wanker?”

“I didn’t say that…” Alice demurred.

“You didn’t have to.” He seemed unconcerned. “What can I say? It puts my clients at ease. I’m not exactly the most traditional choice for this line of work. They’re used to good-old boys; you know—pinstripes and Oxbridge. So, I do what I can to make them feel at home around here, until they hire me, that is. After that, it doesn’t really matter, as long as I deliver.”

“And you do that?”

He flashed her a grin, tinted with more than a touch of arrogance. “Always.”

Alice looked around again, pleased that she’d been right about the staid veneer of their surroundings. Her instincts had taken something of a hit these past months; it was good to know that they were still worth something. “Right, I’ll let you get on with your evening.” She edged away, eager to get to work.

“Don’t give up just yet,” Nathan said, obviously misinterpreting her mood. “I’m not so easily beaten. My coffee maker will agree to that. I’ll find you that money.”

Alice nodded, sending him a quick smile as she stepped out into the hallway. “I’m sure you will.”

***

Since she had a few hours to spare before dinner with Flora, Alice wasted no time delving into that thick new file of data. She would work through it more methodically later, complete with calendar and charts for cross-referencing dates and times, but for now, Alice simply took the first vague transaction listing from Ella’s debit card. Ten pounds at BodyFirst Fitness? Perfect.

The gym turned out to be a bright, glass-fronted space filled with shiny machines and even shinier exercise devotees in a range of lurid colored workout gear. The eighties, apparently, were back. Approaching the front desk, Alice glanced around at the stream of people clutching towels and water bottles. She and Ella had always joked about their slothful approach to health and how their bodies would probably go into cardiac shock should they ever get a dose of endorphins, but perhaps she’d been a secret step-aerobics addict all along.

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