Chapter 6: What the Law Calls It
The officer who came was younger than I expected.
She had a calm, unhurried way of listening that made me feel, for the first time since the previous afternoon, that someone outside this house was taking the situation seriously.
Her name was Detective Sergeant Claire Okafor.
She sat at my kitchen table with a notepad and did not write anything down for the first ten minutes.
She just listened.
I told her everything.
The stroller.
The footage.
Tuesday's footage.
The messages.
Rosa's account of the man with papers.
The transfers Marcus had identified.
The note from Daniel.
The highlighted will.
When I finished, she looked at the note for a long moment.
"Mr.
Adeyemi," she said.
"I want to make sure I understand the timeline correctly.
Your daughter is four months old.
The transfer of forty thousand pounds occurred fourteen months ago, before the child was born.
And this note references a window closing at your wedding anniversary, which is—"
"Eleven days from now," I said.
She nodded slowly.
"And your current will — the one she had a copy of — what does it specify regarding the child?"
"If my daughter survives me, the majority of the estate passes to her in trust.
If she does not survive me, and Vanessa is still my spouse at the time of my death, Vanessa inherits directly."
DS Okafor looked at the note again.
"I need to take the original of this," she said.
"And I'll need the security footage — all of it, both incidents.
I'll need Rosa's formal statement.
And I'll need your accountant to prepare the transfer documentation for our financial crimes unit."
"You're treating this as a crjme," I said.
"I'm treating it as a serious matter that requires immediate investigation," she said carefully.
"What I can tell you right now is that you should contact your solicitor today and have your will reviewed and if necessary amended.
Whatever window they were working toward — close it."
She stood up.
"One more thing," she said.
"The man named Daniel.
Do you have a full name and address?"
"Daniel Forsythe.
I can get you his address."
She wrote it down.
"Mr.
Adeyemi," she said.
"You did the right thing calling us.
I know that's not easy to hear when it involves people you trusted."
After she left, I sat at the table for a long time.
Rosa brought tea.
Set it down.
Sat across from me without being asked.
"She believed you," Rosa said.
"Yes."
"Good," Rosa said.
And that was all.
My solicitor called back within the hour.
I told him everything.
He was quiet in the way that lawyers are quiet when they are already thinking three steps ahead.
"I can have an amended will drawn up within forty-eight hours," he said.
"In the meantime, I'm going to recommend you also review the power of attorney documentation.
If she had access to a solicitor willing to prepare papers for her to sign in your absence—"
"She did," I said.
"Rosa saw it."
"Then we need to know what she signed and in whose name." He paused.
"Nathan.
I have to ask you directly.
Is there any possibility she had access to your signature?
A stamp, a scan, a document you signed in blank?"
I thought about the three weeks in Singapore.
The paperwork I had sent back digitally.
The documents I had signed without reading carefully because I was exhausted and Vanessa had said they were routine.
"Possibly," I said.
"Then we may be looking at more than financial misconduct," he said.
"We may be looking at fraud."
I hung up and looked at the ceiling.
Priya came and stood in the kitchen doorway.
The baby was awake now, eyes open and tracking the light from the window.
"Dad," Priya said.
"Vanessa just posted on social media.
She's saying you threw her out without warning.
She's saying Rosa made false accusations.
She's already got forty comments."
I looked at my daughter.
"Let her post," I said.
"You're not going to respond?"
May you like
"No," I said.
"The footage will respond for me."
