The Liberation of Alice Love - Abby McDonald [48]
“Alice, good to see you.” Nathan’s voice was easy as he ushered her into the room. “You found the office OK?”
“Yes, fine thanks.” He was dressed smarter than she’d seen before, in navy trousers and a crisp white shirt, but as Alice followed him in, she caught sight of his jacket flung over the back of an executive chair; carelessly crumpled. For some reason, she found it reassuring.
“Take a seat. I’d offer you a coffee, but the machine and I are having something of a disagreement.” Flashing her a grin, he took some papers from the top of a filing cabinet. “Well, all-out war, to be honest. Many good beans lost in pursuit of a fine grind, but I’ll beat the damn thing into submission eventually.”
“It’s OK. I’m good without.” Alice took a seat and glanced at his antique desk, curious. It was clear, except for a cluster of small, shiny gadgets: an array of high-tech toys in gleaming monochrome that she couldn’t even begin to identify. For some reason, this didn’t square with her memory of him either, old-fashioned in that linen suit at the garden party.
But, of course, those were only her idle thoughts, Alice reminded herself, feeling self-conscious for even remembering. She didn’t really know him at all.
Alice pulled out her notebook and brandished her pen, trying to snap back into a more businesslike mode. “What’s the news?”
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