Marine Returns From Okinawa to Find Her Bungalow Already Sold
“Sixty-four thousand dollars went into your shell company’s account,” Vance said. “Only forty thousand reached the escrow account my client’s father opened.”
Benson smiled, a quick, greasy movement of his lips. “Fees, administrative costs, and title insurance. Everything is itemized.”
“The buyer, Emily Morrison, paid eighty-eight thousand dollars,” I said. “Where did the other twenty-four thousand go?”
Benson’s smile vanished. “That is proprietary business information, Sergeant.”
“It is bank fraud,” Vance said. “And we are just getting started.”
Vance reached into his folder and pulled out a second sheet, sliding it across the polished mahogany.
“This is the service record for the USS Ashland,” Vance said. “On the date this power of attorney was allegedly notarized, my client was three hundred miles off the coast of Okinawa.”
My father rubbed his knuckles, his breathing heavy and uneven. “She signed it before she left. She gave me the power.”
“She signed a limited power of attorney that expired six months ago, Arthur,” Vance said. “The document filed with the county has a fresh notary stamp and a new date.”
