Paying three hundred thousand dollars of debt before being ordered out of the house
I took a deep breath and stood up, leaving the desk exactly as I had found it. I walked to the window and looked out at the empty street, my fingers resting on my watch.
I stood by the desk, holding the paper under the single bulb of the lamp. I was staring at the photocopy of the deed, my finger tracing the signature that looked slightly too hurried.
David Vance did not look up from the spreadsheets when I set the mug of black coffee near his elbow. He used a small wooden pointer to follow the columns of Marcus’s bank statements, his wire-rimmed glasses slipping slightly down his nose. He was holding a pencil over the transactions from November.
“I need you to look at the transfer logs from the last six months, David,” I said, sitting on the edge of the desk.
David took off his glasses and pulled a blue silk cloth from his breast pocket, breathing on the lenses before wiping them with slow, deliberate circles. He did not look at me until the silk was tucked back into his pocket.
