Page 84 of A Perfect Devon Christmas
‘Be patient where you sit in the dark. The dawn is coming.’
‘Rumi?’
He pursed his lips. ‘Not a direct translation, but true to his teaching.’
She smiled. Omar would tell Fred what had happened in the pub anyway.
Ivy fidgeted with her cross while Omar knocked on the door. When it opened, the first thing she noticed was Fred’s eyes light up. He held the door wide, and the pair slipped inside.
‘Ivy would like a drink,’ announced Omar.
‘You’re not going to believe this,’ said Fred, excitement thrumming in his movements as he fetched two glasses from the sideboard then poured wine. ‘I’ve been going through all those documents Hazim took – I asked Helen for them – and with everything I’ve learned about accounting, I think I’ve found the key.’
Ivy’s heart picked up pace. She took a glass from Fred and gulped at the wine. ‘Go on.’
Fred placed a folder on the table and flipped it open. ‘Helen told me she had a hunch the major donors were connected. Well, I think she’s right, and I think I can prove it. What’s more, I’ve found out why. If you follow the money, donations go in, but nearly as much comes out: payments to companies controlled by the same people.’
Ivy’s eyes popped wide. ‘What?’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Omar.
‘How much money is involved?’ asked Ivy.
‘I can only see one side of that,’ admitted Fred. ‘How much goes in. I can’t see how much comes out because we only have a snapshot, Hazim took copies of a few sample payments. But from the amounts I can see ... a lot.’
‘A lot as in hundreds, or a lot as in thousands?’ asked Ivy.
‘The latest accounts list this man, Fowler who I guess the charity is named after he donated half a million.’
‘Half a million pounds?’ cried Omar.
‘I know, but that may not be the size of it,’ said Fred. ‘The accounts give a list of all donations that are above two per cent of the charity’s income. I haven’t finished digging, but the first one I looked at, I can’t trace the ownership. It fizzles out into offshore companies, so you can’t see who actually owns anything. There’s only one reason people create structures like that – to hide something. The charity’s biggest donor has been siphoning money.’ He tapped another sheet. ‘Shell companies owned by the donor. I bet this man Fowler is laundering money through the charity, cycling illegal funds through a legitimate entity, then taking out more than he put in. And as if that wasn’t enough, looking at the latest accounts he filed, he’s been claiming deductions and evading tax.’
Ivy inhaled sharply. ‘Evading? That’s illegal, isn’t it? And it should be easy to prove, enabling us to topple this man, Fowler.’
Fred grinned, a victorious glint in his eye. ‘Exactly.’
Omar ran a hand through his hair. ‘They must have thought I knew about all this. That’s why they’ve been pressuring me to go back to Kabul where I can’t cause trouble. Over here, people would be interested in this, but in Kabul not so much.’
Ivy felt a burst of hope. ‘We need to go to the Charity Commission. This is fraud, on a massive scale.’
‘It is,’ agreed Fred, ‘but we could do with someone on the inside to check we’re right. Get some solid evidence.’
‘Farid!’ suggested Ivy, smiling at Omar.
‘It would be better if it was someone in London,’ replied Fred. ‘The donations aren’t made in Kabul.’ He crossed his arms, his jaw tight. ‘I’m wondering if Robby might be persuaded to help us.’
‘Robby?’ cried Ivy. She glanced at Omar whose face had drained of colour. ‘He’s the last person who’s going to help us.’
Fred thrust a spreadsheet in front of Ivy and Omar. ‘I think I know why Robby is so determined to protect the charity. I checked online – most small charities pay their bosses less than a hundred grand a year – Robby gets two hundred thousand.’
‘Trish said she checked, and he wasn’t being paid more than the average.’
Fred tapped the side of his nose. ‘She just looked at his reported salary. If you dig through the accounts, you’ll spot a bonus scheme.’
‘My goodness. So, it’s just greed,’ she murmured to herself. ‘That’s it? That’s why he’s protecting this man, Fowler?’
Fred had finally unearthed the truth – Robby was helping Fowler for cold, old fashioned self-interest. He was being paid far too much, and he knew it. That was why he hadn’t asked the right questions. Why he’d turned a blind eye. Why he’d done Fowler’s bidding without a second thought. And the worst part? There was nothing illegal in that.
