Page 39 of Secrets of the Forgotten Heir

I’d have to do something about that too, but one problem at a time. ‘If you’re planning on going to bed when you get in, I can do a little digging from home,’ I suggested.

‘Sounds good,’ she said. ‘Although the Wi-Fi can be patchy. ’

‘I’m sure it’ll be fine.’

Maddie nodded. A companionable silence was beginning to fall between us when she spoke again. ‘I know it’s not the best of circumstances,’ she said softly, ‘but it’s really, really good having you back. It’s a bit like you’ve never been away.’

‘I feel the same.’ I squeezed her arm. ‘And I’m so damned grateful for it. Grateful for you.’

I was genuinely shocked by how much her friendship still meant to me; I’d honestly believed that I’d let her fade into my past, but now that I was here that ache that lived in my heart had finally gone. Until that had happened, I hadn’t realised just how crippling it had been.

Back home, I bid a yawning Maddie goodnight. I grabbed my laptop and sat down in the cold living room, the empty fireplace taunting me. Maddie wasn’t the only thing I’d missed, and when she had persuaded me to come home, I’d been looking forward to basking in the Witchlight. That it was gone left me more than a little depressed. The Eternal Flame was my inheritance, and I had failed it miserably. Well, I was done failing. I was going to find it, and restore it, and that was all there was to it.

I opened my laptop and navigated my way to the dark web, then opened up pages on some of the websites I frequently used as a PI. One of the most useful things I’d ever done in London was pay a magical hacker called Donovan a ridiculous price to get me banking access codes and encryption keys; using the portal he’d created for me, I could pretty much log into any bank I wanted from anywhere in the world.

So that’s what I did.

I thought I’d have to search half a dozen Fraser Banks to find the one I was looking for but when I narrowed down the search parameters to Cornwall there was onlyone person with that name and an English bank account. Or rather several English bank accounts.

As I opened the first one, my jaw dropped. The numbers were massive; we were talking my annual martial arts earnings plus my PI fees multiplied by ten,per month.

‘Banks, indeed,’ I muttered. ‘This man could open one himself with all that money. Crikey.’ I wasn’t eventhatjealous. Uh-huh.

I scanned down. Some debits were for mundane things – internet, bills, rental on property – and there were large amounts going to building firms. Judging by what I knew of Banks, that wasn’t a surprise; as a property developer he’d gotta develop.

Halfway down the page something caught my eye. Two hundred thousand pounds had gone out of the account but there was no name listed for the recipient, just an address. That didn’t feel right.

I typed the address into a search engine but nothing came up. I tried changing my servers and using one on the dark web. Still nothing. My first lead and I’d hit a dead end. But that wasn’t the last of my options. I pulled open my phone and scrolled down to a name: Donovan.

There was a reason I had used him before: when it came to finances, he was the absolute best if you wanted to stop payments to somebody or wanted full disclosure. Butthis wasn’t a case of accessing bank statements, which I could already do thanks to his portal. Donovan was better than that: he could trace the money from source to final destination going back years. He also had systems linked to public CCTV cameras that could track where high levels of cash were spent, not only in the UK but overseas as well.

When I pressed on his number, he answered within two rings. ‘Beatrix Stonehaven. Long time, no see – or hear. How can I help? Unless you’re ringing for my stimulating conversation?’

‘Not much time for conversation today. Sorry. Could you do me a favour?’

‘Depends on what it is and what you’ll pay me for it.’ He sounded amused.

‘I was hoping for a discount this time based on my charming personality and the fact that I once saved a cat from a tree.’

He let the silence hang. That was a no, then. I sighed. ‘I’m on a case. There’s a payment to a bank account. I’ve got the associated address and number but no name. Any chance you could track that down for me? And to be honest, I’m not sure the address is legit.’

‘You need me to do some deep digging?’

‘Possibly. Probably.’

He gruntedbefore he spoke again. ‘Payment will be the usual,’ he warned.

I gritted my teeth. Donovan wasn’t cheap and I didn’t know what Yanni was going to pay me, but it wasn’t like I had a choice. If we could get some dirt on Banks, we could stop him dead in his tracks, stop him getting anywhere near my house. When it came to my home, money was no object. I had credit cards. I’d use them.

‘All right. I’ll transfer it to you now with all the information that I have.’

‘I’ll get onto it as soon as I have time. Pleasure doing business with you,’ he said. A click. The line went dead.

I shoved my phone back into my pocket. One step closer.

Now all I had to do was hope that Donovan’s ‘deep digging’ didn’t put us both in a hole too deep to climb out of.

Chapter Twenty-Six

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