Secret Things and Highland Flings. Tracy Corbett

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      The man in the raincoat stepped inside. ‘I’m looking for Mrs Alexia Aldridge,’ he said, tucking his glasses inside his worn coat.

      She turned to him. ‘Well, you’ve found her. Although Aldridge was my married name. I’ve reverted to my maiden name of Ryan.’

      He held out his name badge for her to read. ‘Brian Falk, investigating officer with the insolvency headquarters. I have a few questions.’

      Jesus, hadn’t they quizzed her enough fifteen months ago? ‘Now isn’t a convenient time. My assistant isn’t in. Can you come back another day?’

      ‘This won’t take long.’ He obviously wasn’t going to leave.

      With a sigh, she locked the door and flipped the closed sign. The sooner she answered his questions, the sooner he’d be gone. She needed to get Marcus out of her basement.

      ‘Follow me,’ she said, showing him into the back office. ‘Tea, coffee?’

      He placed his briefcase on the floor and sat down. ‘Just water. Thank you.’

      She went over to the kitchenette, trying to stem the rising feeling of panic. Why was he here? Did he know what she’d done?

      Water slurped over the edge of the glass as she carried it over to him, her nerves betraying her. ‘So, how can I help you, Mr Falk?’

      He put his glasses back on and laid his briefcase across his lap. ‘As you know, we’ve been looking into the matter of undeclared assets for you and your husband—’

      ‘Ex-husband.’

      He peered over the top of his glasses.

      ‘We’re no longer married.’

      ‘My mistake.’ He removed a document from his briefcase. ‘Further evidence has come to light with regard to a life insurance policy taken out for you and your husband.’ He handed her a document. ‘Are you familiar with the policy I’m referring to, Mrs Aldridge?’

      ‘It’s Ms Ryan.’ She took the document from his outstretched hand. ‘And no, I’m not.’ She carried the document over to the table and sat down.

      ‘If you would care to look at the policy details and the withdrawal section on the back, you’ll see both documents bear your signature.’

      She gazed down at the document in her hand, a document she’d never seen before. The Royal Sun Alliance policy appeared to have been taken out in August 2014, shortly after they were married. Both of their names were listed. Why the hell didn’t she know about this?

      The investigator cleared his throat. ‘I note from your interview with Mr Dickens, the official receiver, on 9 February 2017, that this policy wasn’t mentioned as part of your marital assets. I wonder why that was?’

      She stared at the document. ‘Because I never knew it existed.’

      ‘I find that a little hard to believe. After all, that is your signature on the policy, is it not? How do you account for that?’

      ‘I … I can’t. What I mean is, I’ve never seen this document before in my life.’

      It was clear he didn’t believe her. He removed a pad from his briefcase and scribbled something down. ‘Are you quite sure? Forgetting about its existence would seem a little strange. Especially as you and your husband surrendered the policy shortly before the bankruptcy hearing.’

      She felt something hard hit her in the chest. There was no way she’d have forgotten that. She lifted the document closer, studying the handwriting. ‘I … I don’t understand. How can a life insurance policy be cashed in if both parties are still alive?’

      ‘As I said, the policy was surrendered. The terms and conditions allowed for the refund of premiums paid into the account up until its cancellation. Surrendering the policy would have incurred hefty fees, but there would still have been a substantial payout.’

      She stared at the document, trying to make sense of it. Had she really forgotten about it? Surely not. The print was tiny, the list of terms and conditions hard to distinguish, but true enough, there at the bottom of the page appeared to be her signature. She peered closer, trying to fathom why she couldn’t remember signing it. ‘And when did you say it was cashed in?’

      He checked his notebook. ‘Third of November 2016.’

      The text on the page blurred before her as tears filled her eyes. That was two weeks before Marcus had run off with Cindy. The familiar pain of betrayal settled over her. The realisation that Marcus had been defrauding her since the day they were married was a feeling like no other she’d experienced. She’d been convinced his illegal antics were solely linked to the financial problems of his used-car business. But this was premeditated. A deliberate action designed to scam his own wife. Jesus. Marcus really had been a cheat. In more ways than one.

      Trying to contain her anger, she looked at the investigating officer. ‘This is not my signature.’

      ‘I beg your pardon, Mrs Aldridge?’

      ‘My name is Ms Ryan … and I said, that’s not my signature.’ She flipped over the page, looking for the withdrawal section. There it was again, her signature … but not. ‘The reason I don’t remember taking out this policy, or cashing it in, is because I never knew it existed.’ She got up and handed him the papers.

      He raised his eyebrows. ‘Are you saying that your husband forged your signature?’

      ‘I … I suppose I am.’ She shrugged. ‘All I really know is that I didn’t sign it.’

      He scribbled something down in his notebook. A few seconds ticked by before he looked up.

      ‘Have you been in contact with your husband recently, Mrs Ald … err … Ms Ryan?’

      Her left eye began twitching again. She moved away and tore off a wodge of kitchen roll, wrapping it around her finger, which had started to bleed again. ‘Marcus and I are divorced, Mr Falk. He’s with someone else now and currently residing in Spain. Thanks to his incompetent finances and illegal business ventures, I lost my home and suffered substantial financial hardship.’ She glanced around the office. ‘My business is all that I have left.’

      ‘That’s not what I asked.’ He watched her carefully. ‘I asked whether you’d been in contact with him recently.’

      Her cheeks started to burn. She had two options. Deny all knowledge and be rid of him or admit that her ex-husband was currently rummaging around in her storage basement looking for a holdall containing twenty-seven thousand pounds.

      A more pressing thought struck her. ‘How much was the insurance pay-out?’

      He paused before answering. ‘Twenty-seven thousand pounds.’

      Oh, cripes!

      Time slowed … and then sped up, causing her stomach to dip.

      So that’s where the money had come from … She’d assumed it had come from the sale of her Franz Gerste collection. Only it hadn’t.

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