Chapter 4 · My Husband Stole My Fertility

The private investigator, Oliver Quinn, was in his early forties. He was lean and not talkative.

Before we met, Emily had only told me one thing. "Oliver has uncovered hidden assets for three CEOs of public companies. He has never failed."

We met at a coffee shop on the west side of the city.

Oliver gave me a look and asked, "Who are we investigating?"

"Richard Lane, the chairman of Lane Holdings," I replied.

His face didn't shift an inch. "How deep do you want me to dig?"

"Everything he owns, and everything he controls, but not in his name. Plus, any financial dealings between him and a woman named Caroline Reed."

"Time frame?"

"From 2000 to now."

Oliver nodded. "I'll give you the preliminary results in a week. The detailed report will be ready in two weeks." He stood up to leave.

I stopped him. "One more thing. On March 14, 1997, there was a surgery at the Sacred Heart Hospital. Can you find out who the lead surgeon was?"

"That should be in the medical records. Hasn't Ms. Carter looked into that?"

"The space for the lead surgeon was blacked out."

Oliver turned back and glanced at me. "Scribbled out?"

"With a black marker. The whole row was covered. I can't make out any character."

Emily had noticed this after she got the copy. In the original medical records, everything else was clear, except for the lead surgeon's name. It had been deliberately erased.

Oliver sat back down. "Mrs. Lane, altering medical records is illegal."

"I know that," I replied.

"Then I'll look into that too." With that, he left.

Emily poured me a cup of coffee. "Claire, I found something else today you might need to know."

"Go ahead," I said.

"Caroline has an investment firm called A & C Investments. She is the legal rep, but the biggest shareholder isn't her. It's a subsidiary three levels down under Lane Holdings. So, Richard is basically bankrolling the company with Lane Holdings' funds."

"What's the amount?"

"I checked the business registration. The company has a fully paid-up capital of 15 million dollars, but that's only what's officially recorded. According to its annual reports, the firm has handled over 100 million dollars in the past ten years."

It was 100 million dollars. I've been Richard's wife for thirty-eight years. I never knew the password to any of his bank cards. Every month, he'd hand me a card with a limit of 60 thousand dollars, telling me that was enough for me.

Multiplying 60 thousand by 12 months and then by 38 years could yield a total sum below 30 million.

But a firm of Caroline was worth 100 million dollars.

"One more thing." Emily lowered her voice. "When you and Richard got married, Lane Holdings was only a small construction company. The year you resigned, it scored its first big real estate project."

"What does that have to do with me?" I asked.

"That project was secured with your father's connections," she replied.

I was stunned. My father, Edward Bennett, was the former deputy director of the city's construction committee. He passed away in 2008.

"While your father was in office, Lane Holdings got the rights to develop at least four prime plots. That's how Richard built his empire," Emily continued.

"You mean—" I said.

"You were not only Richard's wife but also the one who changed his fate. Or, your father was."

I set down my coffee cup, my fingers steady. "Emily, please help me investigate every business transaction between my father and Richard from back then."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"And after that?"

"Then, I'll decide what comes next."

As I stepped out of the coffee shop, the sunlight warmed my face.

I was sixty-three. Most people my age were spoiling their grandchildren and enjoying their golden years.

At this stage, I freshly realized that half my life had been a lie.

My phone rang. It was Richard. "Claire, what do you want for dinner? I'll have the housekeeper make it."

"Anything is fine," I replied.

"What's wrong? You sound a bit down."

"Nothing. I'm out shopping, feeling a little tired."

"Then come back early and get some rest. Oh, and don't forget about Mr. Lewis's dinner party next week. Make sure you have that emerald green suit ready."

"Okay."

After hanging up, I texted Emily: [Richard will go to a dinner party next week. Can you find out who is attending? Pay special attention to anyone with the last name Reed.]

Chapter 4

The private investigator, Oliver Quinn, was in his early forties. He was lean and not talkative.

Before we met, Emily had only told me one thing. "Oliver has uncovered hidden assets for three CEOs of public companies. He has never failed."

We met at a coffee shop on the west side of the city.

Oliver gave me a look and asked, "Who are we investigating?"

"Richard Lane, the chairman of Lane Holdings," I replied.

His face didn't shift an inch. "How deep do you want me to dig?"

"Everything he owns, and everything he controls, but not in his name. Plus, any financial dealings between him and a woman named Caroline Reed."

"Time frame?"

"From 2000 to now."

Oliver nodded. "I'll give you the preliminary results in a week. The detailed report will be ready in two weeks." He stood up to leave.

I stopped him. "One more thing. On March 14, 1997, there was a surgery at the Sacred Heart Hospital. Can you find out who the lead surgeon was?"

"That should be in the medical records. Hasn't Ms. Carter looked into that?"

"The space for the lead surgeon was blacked out."

Oliver turned back and glanced at me. "Scribbled out?"

"With a black marker. The whole row was covered. I can't make out any character."

Emily had noticed this after she got the copy. In the original medical records, everything else was clear, except for the lead surgeon's name. It had been deliberately erased.

Oliver sat back down. "Mrs. Lane, altering medical records is illegal."

"I know that," I replied.

"Then I'll look into that too." With that, he left.

Emily poured me a cup of coffee. "Claire, I found something else today you might need to know."

"Go ahead," I said.

"What's the amount?"

Multiplying 60 thousand by 12 months and then by 38 years could yield a total sum below 30 million.

But a firm of Caroline was worth 100 million dollars.

"One more thing." Emily lowered her voice. "When you and Richard got married, Lane Holdings was only a small construction company. The year you resigned, it scored its first big real estate project."

"What does that have to do with me?" I asked.

"That project was secured with your father's connections," she replied.

I was stunned. My father, Edward Bennett, was the former deputy director of the city's construction committee. He passed away in 2008.

"While your father was in office, Lane Holdings got the rights to develop at least four prime plots. That's how Richard built his empire," Emily continued.

"You mean—" I said.

"You were not only Richard's wife but also the one who changed his fate. Or, your father was."

I set down my coffee cup, my fingers steady. "Emily, please help me investigate every business transaction between my father and Richard from back then."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"And after that?"

"Then, I'll decide what comes next."

As I stepped out of the coffee shop, the sunlight warmed my face.

I was sixty-three. Most people my age were spoiling their grandchildren and enjoying their golden years.

At this stage, I freshly realized that half my life had been a lie.

My phone rang. It was Richard. "Claire, what do you want for dinner? I'll have the housekeeper make it."

"Anything is fine," I replied.

"What's wrong? You sound a bit down."

"Nothing. I'm out shopping, feeling a little tired."

"Then come back early and get some rest. Oh, and don't forget about Mr. Lewis's dinner party next week. Make sure you have that emerald green suit ready."

"Okay."

After hanging up, I texted Emily: [Richard will go to a dinner party next week. Can you find out who is attending? Pay special attention to anyone with the last name Reed.]