picture Barry had left behind. He’d also been to Barry’s office and gone through all his files. It had made for … disquieting reading. ‘Oh, Barry,’ he’d found himself saying over and over again as yet another innocent-looking lever arch file yielded a fair approximation of hell. He was nowhere close to getting to the bottom of it all but, even this far from the bottom, it was not a pretty picture.
He ran a hand through his hair again, or, rather, what was left of his hair. At fifty-five Roger wasn’t quite into comb-over territory, but his gingerish thatch was getting very thin on top.
‘Roger, please,’ Susan said. ‘You’re scaring me.’
‘Right. The thing is, Susan, I … I’ve not nearly figured this all out yet. Not even close, it’s bloody complicated, but, from what I’ve seen so far –’ he placed his left hand on top of the three box files, the files all containing paperwork retrieved from that terrible basement flat – ‘I have to say, it really doesn’t look good.’
‘What doesn’t look good?’
‘It looks like Barry was, ah, playing a bit fast and loose with the old finances.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘First off, there’s the flat itself. You bought it back in 1981, for seven thousand pounds.’
‘Sorry,
we
bought it?’
‘Well, I suppose Barry bought it. In the last few years it seems like he’s remortgaged it several times.’
‘Why?’
‘It looks like he’s been using that money to pay off the credit cards and –’
‘What credit cards?’
‘Nine different cards, all with balances varying between five and fifteen thousand pounds.’
‘But … we don’t have nine credit cards! We’ve got the Visa and the –’
‘Susan, I think a lot of this is going to be news to you. Just bear with me. On top of that there’s the fact that he … he doesn’t seem to have paid income tax or VAT for the past two years, the revenue are due over a hundred grand, and there are indications here, in the paperwork, that he’s been making unauthorised payments to himself from the business account. Offshore trusts and things. There are a few loans, secured, unsecured …’
‘Jesus Christ.’ Susan slid her elbows forward across the polished wood and let her head sink into her hands. ‘How …’
‘It seems he’s been doing this for some time, funding quite a, um … lavish private life. But it’s definitely got more out of hand in the last few years. With the … the …’ Roger tugged at his collar, looked at the table. ‘The call girls and whatnot.’
It’s not like we’re newly-weds …
Susan felt a sob escaping her but she fought it back and took a deep breath. ‘So what does this all mean?’
‘Well, as you’re a director of the company –’
‘Oh, just in name! For the tax reasons.’ Barry had explained to her that if she was a director of the company and received a nominal salary it was all money that didn’t have to go to the taxman. It seemed to make sense. Back when things used to make sense. ‘I never actually did anything! You know that, Roger!’
‘I know, I know, it just means, technically, technically, you’re jointly responsible for the company debts as well as all this other stuff –’
‘But I didn’t know about any of this!’
‘Exactly. So we’ve got a very good chance of proving here that you’re simply a victim. That Barry was forging your signature on all these remortgages and loan and credit agreements and –’
‘Ah,’ Susan said.
‘What?’ Roger said.
‘When you say “forging” … there’s a chance I did sign some of them. A few of them. Maybe.’
Roger looked at her. He reached into the top file and took out a sheaf of papers. ‘Susan, are you telling me that this really is your signature?’ He pointed at the dotted line at the bottom of a document. ‘That you actually signed all this stuff willingly?’
‘Well, I didn’t know! Barry dealt with all the money! He was a bloody
He ran a hand through his hair again, or, rather, what was left of his hair. At fifty-five Roger wasn’t quite into comb-over territory, but his gingerish thatch was getting very thin on top.
‘Roger, please,’ Susan said. ‘You’re scaring me.’
‘Right. The thing is, Susan, I … I’ve not nearly figured this all out yet. Not even close, it’s bloody complicated, but, from what I’ve seen so far –’ he placed his left hand on top of the three box files, the files all containing paperwork retrieved from that terrible basement flat – ‘I have to say, it really doesn’t look good.’
‘What doesn’t look good?’
‘It looks like Barry was, ah, playing a bit fast and loose with the old finances.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘First off, there’s the flat itself. You bought it back in 1981, for seven thousand pounds.’
‘Sorry,
we
bought it?’
‘Well, I suppose Barry bought it. In the last few years it seems like he’s remortgaged it several times.’
‘Why?’
‘It looks like he’s been using that money to pay off the credit cards and –’
‘What credit cards?’
‘Nine different cards, all with balances varying between five and fifteen thousand pounds.’
‘But … we don’t have nine credit cards! We’ve got the Visa and the –’
‘Susan, I think a lot of this is going to be news to you. Just bear with me. On top of that there’s the fact that he … he doesn’t seem to have paid income tax or VAT for the past two years, the revenue are due over a hundred grand, and there are indications here, in the paperwork, that he’s been making unauthorised payments to himself from the business account. Offshore trusts and things. There are a few loans, secured, unsecured …’
‘Jesus Christ.’ Susan slid her elbows forward across the polished wood and let her head sink into her hands. ‘How …’
‘It seems he’s been doing this for some time, funding quite a, um … lavish private life. But it’s definitely got more out of hand in the last few years. With the … the …’ Roger tugged at his collar, looked at the table. ‘The call girls and whatnot.’
It’s not like we’re newly-weds …
Susan felt a sob escaping her but she fought it back and took a deep breath. ‘So what does this all mean?’
‘Well, as you’re a director of the company –’
‘Oh, just in name! For the tax reasons.’ Barry had explained to her that if she was a director of the company and received a nominal salary it was all money that didn’t have to go to the taxman. It seemed to make sense. Back when things used to make sense. ‘I never actually did anything! You know that, Roger!’
‘I know, I know, it just means, technically, technically, you’re jointly responsible for the company debts as well as all this other stuff –’
‘But I didn’t know about any of this!’
‘Exactly. So we’ve got a very good chance of proving here that you’re simply a victim. That Barry was forging your signature on all these remortgages and loan and credit agreements and –’
‘Ah,’ Susan said.
‘What?’ Roger said.
‘When you say “forging” … there’s a chance I did sign some of them. A few of them. Maybe.’
Roger looked at her. He reached into the top file and took out a sheaf of papers. ‘Susan, are you telling me that this really is your signature?’ He pointed at the dotted line at the bottom of a document. ‘That you actually signed all this stuff willingly?’
‘Well, I didn’t know! Barry dealt with all the money! He was a bloody
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