Chapter 4
Thomas was even faster than I'd expected.
The next afternoon, he showed up at the café downstairs in my apartment complex, a backpack slung over his shoulder, stuffed with three file folders.
He sat down across from me and dumped the contents of his bag onto the table.
"First, the original data from your performance review."
He pulled out a stack of papers.
"The HR system logs show that your attendance and project participation scores were modified at 5 PM on the day the review period ended.
"The account used to make the changes had VP-level access."
VP。
Vice President.
That meant David.
"Or someone acting on his behalf. But the account used was his own. This guy's got some nerve, not even bothering to use a dummy account."
I flipped through the printed logs. The data before the changes showed 99.7% attendance, a B+ in project participation, and an overall rating of above average.
That wasn't even close to being on the chopping block for elimination.
"Second, the financial stuff."
Thomas slid the second file folder over.
"I've got all the evidence lined up for the 8 million dollar discrepancy. Supplier quotes, actual deposits, and the missing money trail all point straight to a private account.
"The account isn't under David's name, but it's his cousin's, and the guy's been out of work for years."
I flipped through a few pages.
Nice. The logic was airtight.
"Third."
Thomas took out the last file folder, and inside was just a single sheet of paper.
"Lucas's reply."
I took it and read it.
It was an email from Lucas's personal assistant, written in the most polite tone possible.
[Dear Mr. Q, Mr. Brooks has received your letter. The board is paying close attention to your upcoming appearance at the shareholders' meeting.
[Would you be open to a private meeting with the chairman beforehand? You can pick the time and place.]
I set the paper down.
"Not meeting him," I said.
Thomas raised an eyebrow.
"I'll face him at the shareholders' meeting. I want everyone to witness it together."
Thomas leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a grin tugging at his lips.
"You really want to make a splash, huh?"
"Not making a scene. Just maximizing efficiency."
I took a sip of my coffee.
"Think about it. If I meet with Lucas ahead of time, word will get out. The Clarke family has connections on the board.
"If David finds out early, he'll have time to cover his tracks, destroy evidence, get his story straight, or even skip town.
"But if I show up at the shareholders' meeting, everyone finds out at once. They'll all be shocked, and no one will have time to react. David won't have a chance to prepare.
"His first instinct will be to deny and attack. And when people panic, they always end up exposing more."
Thomas nodded, taking it all in.
"Alright, your call. So what about your wife?"
I didn't answer.
"You're really going to let her see it all go down in person?"
"She's the Marketing Director. She's supposed to be there anyway."
"So you're really not going to warn her ahead of time?"
I paused for a few seconds.
"No."
Thomas opened his mouth, but in the end, he just swallowed his words.
He knows me.
Over the next two months, I did three things.
First, I had Thomas, as my legal advisor, officially file a request with the Delimbia Group board for a shareholder audit.
It was a totally legit and routine move. Big shareholders had the right to check up on the company's assets and see if the management had been doing their jobs.
Second, with Thomas pulling some strings, I got my hands on the complete three-year transaction history for that private account.
Every transaction, amount, date, and memo was laid out in black and white. Seven major deposits landed on the exact days the final payments for David's three projects were settled.
Third, I did nothing.
To be precise, my daily routine didn't change at all.
I went grocery shopping, cooked, played games, and mooched coffee at Thomas's place.
Erin asked if I'd found a job yet. I told her I was still looking.
She just went, "Okay."
Nothing more was said about the divorce papers. The one I'd folded into a paper airplane was still wedged in the couch cushions. She never mentioned it again, and neither did I.
But I could tell something between us had changed.
She started coming home a little earlier every day.
We started eating dinner together again.
One day, she came home carrying a bag of oranges.
"You like these, right?" she said.
I took the bag from her.
"Yeah, thanks."
She stood in the entryway, like she wanted to say something, but in the end, she just nodded and went to take a shower.
I sat down and peeled an orange.
It was sour.
Still, I ate the whole thing.
Three months later.
Two days before the shareholders' meeting.
Thomas called me.
"Word's already getting out," Thomas said.
"Who's leaking it?" I asked.
"Lucas's assistant. The guy can't keep anything to himself. Now the whole executive team knows Mr. Q is coming."
"What about David?" I asked.
"He asked his father to investigate. But all of Mr. Q's registration details are tied up in an offshore company.
"The only thing anyone can find is a code name, no real person behind it. His dad spent two days trying to track it down, but got nowhere."
"Good."
"And one more thing." Thomas paused. "Looks like your wife might know about it now."
"What makes you say that?"
"Rebecca said Erin got a call at the office today, and her face just went pale. She sat there for half an hour, didn't move a muscle. Then she left work early."
I checked the time.
It was 4 PM.
Erin usually didn't get home until seven.
"Got it," I said.
"You..."
"Don't worry. Whatever's coming, it'll come."
Less than ten minutes after I hung up, the front door opened.
Erin stood in the doorway.
She was home more than three hours earlier than usual.
She looked at me, I was on the couch, all the files Thomas gave me scattered across the coffee table.
There were shareholder diagrams, bank statements, and system logs.
I forgot to put them away.
Her gaze fell on the mess of documents.
Then, slowly, she looked up at me.
"Callum."
Her voice was shaky.
"Are you Mr. Q?"
I leaned back on the couch, just looking at her.
I neither confirmed nor denied it.
All I said was, "Sit down."
She didn't sit.
She just stood there, staring at me.
She said, her voice barely above a whisper, "Three years. Three years, and you..."
"Erin."
I cut her off.
"You'll find out everything at the shareholders' meeting. Now's not the time to get into this."
Her hand tightened around the strap of her bag.
"Couldn't you have done something about it sooner?"
"Done what? Kept myself from getting fired? Shut David up? Made everyone see I'm not some loser you married?"
My tone was flat.
With every word, her face lost a little more color.
"Yeah. I could have done all of that."
"Then why didn't you?"
"Because I was waiting for you."
She froze.
"I was waiting for you to say something. To speak up for me in front of three hundred people.
"To be on my side when David was talking trash about me. To even just ask, 'Are you okay?' when you got home."
The living room was so quiet, I could hear the fridge humming in the background.
Erin's lips quivered.
"I..."
"You never did," I said.
I stood up and gathered the files from the coffee table.
"It's fine. None of this really matters now."
I slipped on my shoes by the door, getting ready to leave.
"Don't bother going to the office tomorrow. Just head straight to the shareholders' meeting. It kicks off at nine."
"Callum!" Erin called out.
I pulled the door open.
"The spaghetti are still hot in the pot. Eat while they're warm."
I closed the door behind me.
I stood in the hallway, taking a deep breath.
I pulled out my phone.
I texted Thomas.
[Got the suit ready for tomorrow?]
Thomas replied instantly: [What suit? Didn't you say you were just gonna wear a hoodie?]
[Oh, right, I forgot. Just wear whatever.]
[You're seriously nuts. The biggest moment of your life, and you're gonna show up in a hoodie?]
[Who cares what I wear? It's not like I'm entering a beauty contest.]
[Alright. Oh, and do you want a lollipop? Grape flavor.]
I thought for a second.
[Yeah, I'll take one.]
*****