He made the five calls. On two he got an automated message and two people answered stating their names. ‘Wrong number,’ he said in both cases and wrote down the names; the fifth turned out to be another brokerage. ‘We never asked Barbara who she worked for,’ he said when he told Marianne the name.
‘There’re a lot of things we didn’t ask her; perhaps we should set up another meeting.’
‘We can decide that after we’ve talked to Eddie and Dominic’s boss.’
‘It will be interesting to see if Adrian Matthews knows these people,’ Marianne took the page he handed her, folded it and put it into the side pocket of her bag.
‘He probably won’t say. You can bet he’ll be playing his cards close to his chest. Right, let’s go and see what my esteemed solicitor has to say.’
‘Thanks for coming with me today, Johnny,’ she said as they stood waiting for the pedestrian light to change. ‘I’d hate to be facing all of this alone.’
‘No problem, sweetheart; doesn’t it keep me out of trouble?’ He laughed and putting his hand under her arm, guided her across the road in the direction of Baggot Street.
Eddie Madden came across as a serious and rather dull man, until Johnny made a derogatory comment about the soccer team he supported and instantly the man came back with a sharper and wittier retort, winking at Marianne. Immediately she felt more comfortable. Once they were seated in his small office, he sat at his desk and listened as they brought him up to speed, making notes in a hardback notebook with an old-fashioned but rather beautiful fountain pen.
‘So?’ said Johnny when they finally reached the end of their story.
Eddie sat back in his chair. ‘That’s quite a tale, and a poignant one too.’ He looked over at Marianne. ‘I’m sorry for your troubles.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I wish I could give you some good news, God knows you deserve it, but I’m afraid this could be quite serious. As Dominic’s widow, you do inherit his debts.’
Marianne felt sick. If Dominic had defrauded his company and stolen from his employer and his girlfriend, who else was going to crawl out of the woodwork looking for money and how could she possibly pay them?
‘Having said that,’ he said, ‘your initial meeting with your husband’s employer will have gone a long way to reassuring them that you were an innocent party in this matter. Your immediate offer to assist them and handing over the laptop on the same day – these gestures will have strengthened your position considerably, so well done on that.’
Johnny beamed at Marianne. ‘I always said you were smart!’
‘If they do decide to pursue you, however,’ Eddie continued, ‘you could argue that you are not responsible for your husband’s criminality. That would bring the whole matter into the public domain—’
‘Oh, no, I really don’t want that,’ Marianne gasped.
Eddie held up a finger. ‘Trust me, they won’t either. It would be hugely embarrassing for them and, not only would they come out looking inept, but the press would tear them apart for trying to recoup their losses from a grieving widow who is already suffering as a result of her husband’s scandalous behaviour.’
Johnny rubbed his hands together. ‘That sounds encouraging.’
‘But . . .’
Marianne gave a resigned sigh.
He gave her an apologetic smile. ‘The but is simply to remind you of the unknowns. For example, this woman, Barbara West, may try to recoup her losses from his estate.’
‘Marianne couldn’t be expected to compensate her husband’s mistress, could she?’ Johnny said, shaking his head in disgust.
‘It’s a complicated business. The way she tells the story she allowed him to be her agent and yet the plan was for them to use the proceeds of the house to start a new life together, so it’s not exactly theft. Still, she could probably claim at least half of it. It’s open to debate. There would need to be a strong paper trail; for example, she would need to provide proof of the house sale.’
‘She hasn’t actually asked for anything . . . yet,’ Marianne said.
‘It doesn’t mean that she won’t,’ Eddie replied.
Johnny grunted. ‘She will; it’s only a matter of time. So, what do you think Marianne should do, Eddie?’
The solicitor looked directly at her. ‘I think you should throw yourself on the mercies of Matthews and Baldwin. Are you taking Johnny along to this meeting?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s good. I would be more than happy to accompany you, but taking along a legal adviser at this stage might just raise their hackles. Johnny, keep that temper in check and let Marianne do the talking, but perhaps throw in a comment on how hard a situation this is on everyone involved and what a catastrophe it would be if it ever got out.’
‘A shot across the bow, so to speak?’
‘Exactly so.’
‘Consider it done.’ Johnny’s eyes twinkled.
‘What about Barbara?’ Marianne asked. ‘Do you think I should call her?’
Eddie looked at his notes and frowned. ‘How did you leave things with her?’
‘We made no arrangements but we did promise to return the phone when the police were finished with it,’ Johnny said.
Eddie chuckled. ‘Mentioning the police was an interesting idea. If you ever get fed up with the property game you could always become a private investigator.’
‘I may have to,’ Johnny retorted.
‘So, to be clear, you never mentioned the fraud to her at all?’
Marianne shook her head. ‘Not a word.’
‘Good. If she is somehow involved then there’s a good chance that she’ll think the fraud hasn’t been discovered yet and she’s safe.’
‘I just thought of something.’ Johnny frowned in annoyance. ‘She never asked about his laptop.’
‘So?’ Marianne said, not following his train of thought.
‘Well, if she was guilty of anything, wouldn’t she want to get her hands on it? Wouldn’t she have at least asked about it?’
‘If she did, wouldn’t you have been immediately suspicious of her?’ Eddie countered.
‘Definitely,’ Marianne agreed; he was good.
‘I think you should let her make the next move,’ Eddie counselled. ‘What she says or does could be very telling. Let me know how you get on with Matthews and Baldwin.’
Johnny smiled at Marianne and stood up. ‘Shall we?’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ Adrian Matthews said when Marianne introduced Johnny, but he looked far from happy.
‘I hope you don’t mind me asking Johnny to join us,’ she said when they were sitting in front of him, ‘but he’s been helping me sort out Dominic’s estate. I have told him everything that you told me and we have been working together to see if we can come up with any information that might be of help to you.’
Matthews seemed to relax a little at that. ‘I see, thank you.’ He inclined his head in Johnny’s direction. ‘Did you have any success?’
‘We’re not really sure,’ Marianne admitted. ‘You may be the best judge of that but we certainly have plenty to tell you.’
‘Oh, well, that’s a good start,’ Matthews said, looking much happier. ‘Coffee?’
Marianne smiled across at Johnny as Matthews went to the door to talk to his secretary. Their conversation was going exactly as planned. As agreed, she brought Adrian up to date on how Barbara had made contact, emphasizing Kate’s part in the process and how much her daughter was grieving for her father.
‘Barbara!’ Adrian looked startled.
‘Do you remember her?’
‘But of course. She was one of our rising stars; we were sorry to lose her.’
‘Why did she leave?’
‘She was highly ambitious and took a job in London.’
‘That’s what she told us.’ Marianne was disappointed to hear that not only was Barbara good at her job but that her story was checking out. She continued, telling Dominic’s boss how she a
nd Johnny had met with Barbara and the subsequent conversation.
When she had finished he shook his head in disbelief. ‘I am so sorry, Marianne. As if you haven’t had enough shocks.’
‘Do you think this woman can be trusted? Johnny asked.
‘I couldn’t answer that. I didn’t really know her that well – we never worked together directly – but I will ask my partner, Tom; she was part of his team.’
‘We managed to get Dominic’s phone back from her and we’ve checked out the calls and texts but they all seem relatively innocuous,’ Marianne told him. ‘But then we compared the log to the phone bill and there were texts and calls to five numbers that had been deleted. We called them and came up with three names.’ She took out the page and handed it across to him. She watched him as he read and was conscious of Johnny sitting forward in his seat too, but Matthews’ face gave nothing away.
‘Do the names mean anything to you?’ Marianne asked.
‘I can’t say that they do.’
‘And the company?’
‘It’s a small brokerage in Cork. Would you mind if we took a look at the phone and the bill? There may be numbers that would mean something to Dominic’s colleagues.’
‘I can do better than that.’ Marianne reached into her bag and produced the phone and an envelope. ‘If you go into the network’s website, these are the codes that you need in order to access Dominic’s statements over the last year.’
Adrian looked taken aback and then he smiled warmly at her. ‘That is a very generous and considerate gesture; I do appreciate it.’
‘Marianne is deeply ashamed of Dominic’s duplicity and although she is in no way responsible for it she is eager to help in any way that she can. Naturally, her priority is to shield the children. The very last thing she wants is for this matter to end up in the public domain and to add to their grief. And, of course, there is Dominic’s mother to consider too.’
‘Indeed.’
‘I have tried to reassure Marianne that it is in the company’s interests as much as hers to keep this matter a private one. It’s not exactly the sort of publicity you want or need, is it?’
Matthews’ eyes narrowed and he inclined his head ever so slightly. ‘No, it most certainly isn’t.’ He looked at Marianne. ‘We do appreciate your co-operation and I will personally try to ensure this matter is dealt with internally. I will keep you fully informed of our investigations and return the phone to you as soon as possible.’
Realizing that the meeting was at an end, Marianne stood up and held out her hand. ‘I hope you find what you’re looking for.’
‘As do I,’ he said, then shook Johnny’s hand. ‘Nice to meet you, Mr Sheridan; I’m glad that Marianne has someone she can depend on at this difficult time.’
Johnny looked him straight in the eye. ‘I can promise you I will do whatever is necessary to ensure that Marianne and her family don’t suffer any further because of her husband’s actions.’
Matthews’ smile was strained. ‘That’s good to know.’
Marianne waited until they were safely in his car before bursting out laughing. ‘Oh, Eddie would be proud of you!’
‘What do you mean?’ he said, but he was grinning.
‘You were brilliant, Johnny. Thank you so much.’
‘You did a pretty good job yourself. Now, I’m starving. Let’s go and grab some lunch.’
Chapter Twenty-four
Jo couldn’t decide what to do. The thought of telling Greg everything filled her with a dread that she hadn’t experienced since leaving St Anne’s. Talking to Di wouldn’t be much easier. Her daughter would have a lot of questions, and God only knew where that chat would lead. But she had to do it, she had to be strong. Her own mother had let her down at every turn; she would not do the same to Di. As she made herself a black coffee and kept her eyes averted from the biscuit tin, she pondered her dilemma. Marianne was right, she couldn’t exclude Greg. She couldn’t tell Di all about her problem without telling her father and she should really tell him first. She tried to imagine his reaction. He wouldn’t roar or shout at her, he never had. He knew that shouting made Jo tremble but it wasn’t his style anyway. Greg was more likely to seethe with silent fury, look at her with disappointed eyes and cut her down to size with cruel sarcasm. She hated those looks and found his silences intimidating. Sometimes she thought that shouting might be preferable but not often.
It was crucial that she get the timing right for this conversation. He usually mellowed after a couple of drinks so perhaps she would order in Chinese – her cooking wouldn’t help his mood – open a bottle of wine and tell him then. She could settle Rachel in front of a movie and slip Di some money to go out with her friends, then they could talk uninterrupted.
She was a nervous wreck all day and, for once, eating held little attraction. Then Greg called.
‘I’ll be home late, I’m meeting a client; don’t worry about dinner, I’ll pick up a sandwich.’
‘But—’ Jo started but he’d already said goodbye and hung up. Feeling deflated she put down the phone and went into the kitchen where Rachel was making a collage as part of her homework. ‘That’s really good, darling.’
‘Thanks, Mum. Should I use the pink or purple glitter for Di’s dress?’
‘Purple I think.’ Jo looked over her shoulder to find her daughter making a colourful interpretation of the Buckley family. ‘Is that me?’ she asked, pointing at a glamorous figure in a blue dress.
‘Yes, that’s you in the dress you wore to Aunty Helen’s party. It’s not very good, is it? You looked much prettier.’
Jo laughed. ‘Are you kidding me? I’d love to look that pretty.’ She noticed they were all wearing broad smiles except for Greg. ‘How come Daddy is looking sad?’
‘That’s because he’s an accountant and he’s always worried about other people’s money.’
Jo stared down at the top of her daughter’s head and then back at the grim image of her husband. ‘He’s not really worried, darling; it’s just hard work trying to sort out other people’s problems.’
‘But he works very hard, doesn’t he? Poor Daddy.’
Jo continued to stare at the image. ‘Yes, poor Daddy.’
The girls were both asleep and Jo was sitting in the dark, sipping her second glass of wine when Greg arrived home. She heard him drop his briefcase in the hall, walk into the kitchen, open the fridge and then he came into the living room and turned on the light.
‘Jo! You gave me a fright; what on earth are you doing sitting here in the dark?’ He flopped into his armchair and reached for the remote control.
‘Please don’t turn the TV on; I want to talk to you.’
He yawned. ‘Do we have to do it now? I’ve had a hell of a day.’
‘Tell me.’
‘What?’
‘Tell me about your day,’ she said.
‘Jo, what is this? What’s going on?’
‘Nothing, it just occurred to me that I never ask; so I’m asking now. How is work?’
‘It’s lousy if you really want to know. I’ve never had as many clients. I’ve never worked so hard but getting them to pay their bills is like getting blood out of a stone.’
Jo felt a moment of panic as she took in the worried crease in his brow. ‘Are we in trouble?’ she whispered. She had been nervous when Greg made the decision to go out on his own but he claimed that he would make more money and have more control than if he continued to work with the accountancy firm he’d been with since he left university. They were raking it in, he maintained, but he was seeing little of their profits in his pay cheque and it annoyed him that he was working harder and harder to line the pockets of the board.
‘No, of course we’re not in trouble,’ he snapped. ‘At least, we wouldn’t be if you were more careful with money.’
‘But I hardly spend any money except on groceries,’ Jo retorted.
‘And clothes,’ he shot back.
She looked down at her a
ncient tracksuit. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Not on yourself, more’s the pity; it’s all on the girls. You spoil them rotten, Jo; every Saturday Di arrives home with shopping bags and you spend a fortune on designer wear for Rachel on that damned fashion website.’
Jo squirmed; she’d forgotten that he saw all of those purchases coming through on her credit card bills. ‘You’re the one who wants her hanging around with Tracy Donovan; you can hardly expect her to wear chain-store trainers when the other kids are dressed head to toe in labels.’
‘Listen to yourself,’ he sighed. ‘Did you have any fancy clothes when you were growing up?’
‘No, but then I didn’t have any posh friends either.’
‘We can’t afford it, Jo; it’s that simple. You need to make cuts.’
‘Okay, I will, I promise.’
‘So, why the interest in my job and our finances all of a sudden?’ His expression darkened. ‘You haven’t gone and bought something ridiculously expensive, have you?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Then what?’
She stood up, shaking her head. ‘Nothing; it doesn’t matter. Would you like me to make you something to eat?’
‘No, I had a kebab on my way home,’ he said, turning on the TV and the news channel.
‘I’ll go to bed, so.’ She stopped and turned in the doorway. ‘Greg?’
‘Yeah?’ He didn’t look up.
‘I’m sorry. I will try to be more careful.’
He looked up then, his expression softer. ‘Great, thanks love. Goodnight.’
Helen was wandering along Grafton Street, window-shopping, although she was paying little attention. Johnny had called to say he was going to be late again and so, leaving Colm to his books and a fridge full of food, her itchy feet and overactive imagination had taken her into town. Her phone rang and she scrambled around in her bag for it. ‘Hello?’
‘Helen?’
‘Yes, Jo, is that you? I can hardly hear you; I’m in town.’
‘Oh, okay, I was hoping we could have a chat but it can wait; enjoy your shopping.’
Every Time We Say Goodbye Page 22
