Chapter 5: Carol's Notebook
Carol opened the first folder without ceremony.
"The household account receives a monthly transfer of thirty-two thousand dollars," she said.
"That covers staff, groceries, utilities, clothing, medical, and the girls' activities.
I managed that account for two years before Mrs.
Caldwell dismissed me." She turned a printed statement to face Nathan.
"In the eight months after your wedding, the grocery allocation dropped from four thousand a month to six hundred."
Nathan looked at the number.
"Six hundred dollars," he said.
"For four children and a full household staff."
"The staff was let go one by one.
By October there was no chef, no nannies, no piano teacher.
The therapist was cancelled in August.
I only know this because I stayed in contact with two of the staff members after they were dismissed." Carol turned another page.
"The remaining household budget was being transferred in weekly withdrawals of cash.
I traced what I could.
The withdrawals align with the dates Mrs.
Caldwell's car was seen at a property in Glenwood Springs registered to Marcus Holt."
"She was running the household money to Marcus as well."
"Yes.
The company transfers were the large amounts.
The household withdrawals were smaller, but they were consistent.
Every week, without fail." Carol opened the spiral notebook.
"I started keeping this in September when Emma called me."
Nathan looked up.
"Emma called you."
"She found my number in the kitchen drawer.
I had written it on a card when I left, in case the girls ever needed anything." Carol's voice stayed steady, but her hands pressed flat against the notebook.
"She called on a Tuesday afternoon.
She said Mama Vanessa had told them that dinner was cancelled because they had been bad.
She asked me if I could bring food."
The kitchen was very quiet.
"I brought groceries that afternoon," Carol said.
"I left them with Emma at the side door.
I came back the following week and the week after.
I have the dates here." She pointed to the notebook.
"I also have photographs of the girls taken at the side door on three of those visits.
You can see what they were wearing.
You can see their faces."
She turned the notebook to show him.
Nathan looked at the photographs for a long time.
He did not say anything.
"There is one more thing," Carol said.
She reached to the bottom of the canvas bag and placed a small digital recorder on the table.
"In October I came to the house to drop off groceries and I heard Mrs.
Caldwell on the phone in the kitchen.
I did not intend to record her.
I had the recorder in my coat pocket from a meeting I'd had that morning.
I pressed record before I understood what I was hearing."
She pressed play.
Vanessa's voice came out of the small speaker, clear and unhurried.
*"Marcus, they are fine.
Children don't actually need that much food, that's a myth.
They're not going to waste away in a week.
I need you to move the Glenwood transfer before Nathan's accountant runs the quarterly review or we are both finished."*
A pause.
Then Marcus's voice, lower.
*"What about the nanny?
She's been asking questions."*
*"I let her go this morning.
Stop worrying.
Nathan is in Singapore until February.
We have time."*
The recording ended.
Carol reached over and clicked the recorder off.
Nathan stood up from the table.
He walked to the window.
Outside, snow was still falling over the dark lawn, slow and indifferent.
"I need to make a call," he said.
"I know," Carol said.
"I'll put the kettle on."
He called Daniel at 3:17 a.m.
"I have a recording," Nathan said.
"I have bank statements, photographs, and a witness who managed the household accounts.
How does this change the injunction?"
Daniel was quiet for exactly four seconds.
"It doesn't just change the injunction," he said.
"Nathan, this is wire fraud.
This is child endangerment.
This goes well past divorce court."
May you like
Nathan looked back at Carol sitting at his kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a mug, her notebook open in front of her.
"Then let's make sure it goes exactly where it needs to go," he said.
