Chapter 7: The Accountant Who Was Let Go
It took Genevieve until noon the next day to find her.
Petra Hallam.
Thirty-nine.
Former senior analyst at Whitmore & Crane, the accounting firm that had managed Sterling family assets for eleven years.
Quietly made redundant twenty-two months ago.
Currently working as an independent bookkeeper for small businesses in East London, operating out of a shared office space above a dry cleaner on Bethnal Green Road.
Genevieve took a cab.
The office was small and organized with the precision of someone who had learned to work in chaos and chosen order as a form of survival.
Petra looked up when Genevieve knocked on the open door — a compact woman with reading glasses pushed up on her forehead and the measured expression of someone who had been waiting for this conversation without knowing exactly when it would arrive.
"You're not a client," Petra said.
"No." Genevieve sat down across from her without being invited.
"My name is Genevieve Vance.
I was recently engaged to Julian Sterling."
Petra took her glasses off entirely.
Set them on the desk.
"Recently."
"The engagement ended two days ago."
"I see." A pause.
"What do you want?"
"I want to know what you found at Whitmore & Crane."
Petra's expression didn't change.
"I signed a termination agreement when I left.
It included a confidentiality clause."
"I know.
But I also know that confidentiality agreements have limits.
They can't legally compel you to conceal evidence of financial wrongdoing.
That's not confidentiality — that's obstruction."
Petra looked at her for a long moment.
"You've done your homework."
"I've had two days and very little else to do."
Petra stood and walked to the small window.
Below, a delivery van was double-parked on the narrow street.
She watched it for a moment.
"I was assigned to the Sterling account in my third year at the firm," she said finally.
"Routine work.
Annual reconciliations, trust distributions, tax filings.
Meredith Sterling was the primary contact.
She was organized, responsive, and very clear about what she wanted."
"And what did she want?"
"Accuracy on everything she showed me.
And no questions about anything she didn't."
Genevieve waited.
"In my second year on the account, I noticed a pattern in the quarterly distributions.
Funds leaving Julian Sterling's personal trust in amounts just below the threshold that would trigger automatic internal review.
Always to the same account.
Always with a transfer note that read: *Legacy Asset Management — Ref: HSF.*" Petra turned from the window.
"I looked up the HSF reference.
It didn't correspond to any holding in the trust documentation I'd been given."
"What did you do?"
"I flagged it internally.
Wrote it up as an anomaly requiring clarification.
My supervisor took the note, told me he'd look into it, and came back two days later to tell me the transfers were authorized legacy arrangements and to remove the flag from the file."
"And you removed it?"
"I removed it from the file." Petra sat back down.
"I kept a copy for myself."
The room was very quiet.
"How much?" Genevieve asked.
"Across the period I could verify — four years — just over one point four million pounds.
Transferred in increments.
Structured to avoid review thresholds." Petra opened her desk drawer, then stopped with her hand inside it.
"Three months after I flagged it, I was called into a meeting and told my position was being eliminated as part of a firm restructure.
I was given a settlement and a confidentiality clause and escorted out by end of day."
"Was anyone else eliminated in this restructure?"
"No."
Genevieve leaned forward.
"Petra.
I need to ask you something directly.
Do you still have the copy you kept?"
Petra's hand was still in the drawer.
"If I give you what I have," she said, "I need to know it goes somewhere that matters.
Not a newspaper.
Not a social media post.
Not a jilted fiancée settling a score." She looked at Genevieve steadily.
"If this goes to a solicitor — a real one, acting on Julian Sterling's behalf — and it results in a proper financial investigation, then yes.
I'll hand over everything I have."
"Julian's solicitor is already requesting access to the trust records."
Petra's hand came out of the drawer.
She was holding a USB drive.
"Then he's going to need this," she said.
---
Genevieve called Hargreaves directly from the cab on the way back.
He listened without interrupting, which she was beginning to understand was simply how he operated.
"Have her come to my office tomorrow morning," he said when she finished.
"Bring the drive.
I'll need her to sign a voluntary disclosure statement."
"She'll do it."
"And Miss Vance." A pause.
"Does Julian know you've found this woman?"
"Not yet."
"Tell him tonight.
Before Meredith does."
Genevieve looked out the cab window.
"Why would Meredith know?"
"Because someone sent you that message two nights ago," Hargreaves said.
"And someone let Petra Hallam go the week after she filed an internal flag.
Someone in that family has been watching the edges of this for a long time." A pause.
"Tell Julian tonight."
The call ended.
Genevieve tried Julian's number.
It rang six times and went to voicemail.
She tried again.
Same result.
She looked at the USB drive in her palm.
May you like
Julian had gone to the estate alone last night.
He had not called her since.
