MIchael Prescott - The Shadow hunter

"We prefer to think of it as gathering intelligence."

"Whatever. You investigate a client's spouse, business partners, personal trainer-anybody in a position to deliver harm. But you never tell them, because they wouldn't appreciate having their pals and loved ones put under a microscope."

"That's why these files are confidential and why they're kept in my home."

Abby approached the safe and peered inside.

"CDS," she said.

"Four dozen or so. That's, what, thirty gigs of data?"

"Not all the disks are filled to capacity."

"Even so, it's a lot of info."

"As you said, I'm thorough." "Actually, what I said was that you're an obsessive compulsive anal-retentive-"

"I think thorough captures it adequately." He thumbed through the disks until he found one labeled BAR WOOD which he lifted from its sleeve.

"You're right, though. You can store a lot of information on a CD.

All seventy-five thousand articles in the Encyclope for instance."

Abby nodded.

"Or every detail of Kris Barwood's life and the lives of her friends, her relatives… her husband."

"Yes."

"Good old Howard." Her voice was low and thoughtful.

Travis frowned.

"Once again you don't sound surprised."

"I was up most of the night reviewing the possibilities.

And the husband is always a possibility. Please tell me that Howard Barwood set up a company called Western Regional Resources."

"I wish I could. That would make everything easy."

"And things are never easy. It would take all the challenge out of life. If he doesn't own that company, what made you think of him?"

"Let me show you." Travis placed his notebook computer on the bed and inserted the CD, bringing up its contents on the screen. A series of folder icons appeared.

The first was labeled BAR WOOD HOWARD." Others bore the names of various people connected to Kris-friends, coworkers, attorneys and managers, even her housekeeper.

He accessed Howard Barwood's folder. Inside were more folders, arranged alphabetically: BANK ACCOUNTS, CLIENT LIST, CREDIT HISTORY, FINANCES,

Abby sat on the bed beside him, looking over his shoulder. She sighed.

"There aren't any secrets anymore, are there?"

"Not many. It takes some effort to uncover all this, of course. A surname scan delivers the basic info: driver's license, vehicle registration, voter registration, and real estate holdings. The Lexis-Nexis property database supplies previous or secondary residences.

We check employment history with an executive name search.

Most of our information comes from the subject's credit history. It tells us where he travels, what he does for entertainment, where he likes to shop. Then there are insurance policies, medical records, phone bills, property tax filings, financial statements…"

"All technically off-limits to snoops and hackers."

"But accessible to those in the know." He opened the ASSETS folder.

"When I first investigated Howard, the Barwoods' net worth was twenty-four million dollars.

That was in 1994. Recently we took another look. This is the figure now."

Abby leaned close to the screen.

"Twenty million," she said.

"So either they've made some lousy investments or there's something funny going on."

"It's something funny." Travis scrolled through pages of spreadsheets, highlighting figures in the Date Sold column.

"Howard has begun liquidating his assets."

"If the assets are held jointly, wouldn't he need Kris's approval?"

"Most of these accounts were set up so as not to require a co-signatory.

It makes it more convenient for either asset holder to write a check."

"And also more convenient for one asset holder to move funds around without the other's knowledge.

Where did the profits from the asset sales go?"

"Into a local bank account set up in Howard's name."

"His name alone. No Kris?"

"No Kris."

The bed creaked as Abby tucked her legs under her in a swami pose.

"I'm beginning to see where this is going.

The money didn't stay in that bank account, did it?"

"No, it didn't." Travis found Howard Barwood's statements in the BANK ACCOUNTS folder. Cash withdrawals had been made at irregular intervals.

"Cashier's checks," he explained.

"Fifty or a hundred grand at a pop. After that, the money trail runs cold."

"You have no idea where all that cash is going?"

"Yes and no."

"I thought you might say something like that."

"Did you? Why?"

"Because you still haven't explained how dummy corporations fit into all this."

"Good point. I haven't. There is another factor." He opened the REAL PROPERTY folder.

"When we ran a property search on Howard Barwood, we found a house in Culver City." An address came up on the screen.

"At first glance there's nothing odd about that.

Howard owns a number of properties, small and large.

But recently he sold this house, taking a loss. The buyer was something called Trendline Investments.

They're incorporated in the Netherlands Antilles, if that means anything to you."

"A haven for offshore banking. Airtight secrecy laws."

"Very good. Now look at Howard's credit card statements."

Travis opened the CREDIT HISTORY folder.

"They include the purchase of round-trip airline tickets to Willemstad.

It's the capital city of the Netherlands Antilles."

"So let me take a shot in the dark. Trendline Investments is a dummy corporation. Howard set it up. He sold the Culver City house to himself."

"} think so. Can't prove it, but his trip to the Antilles is strong circumstantial evidence. He stayed for two nights, enough time for him to execute all the paperwork required to establish a shell corporation with its own bank account."

"When?"

Travis scrolled down to the hotel charge, dated November 22, 1999.

"Late last year. Shortly before the transfer of the deed to the Culver City house, and shortly before the other assets started to mysteriously disappear."

"And Kris doesn't know?"

"There's no evidence that she does. Of course, financial records can tell us only so much."

"Seems like they're already telling us quite a lot."

Abby thought for a moment.

"Was the Culver City house deeded to Howard alone?"

"Yes."

"So even when he owned it openly, Kris may not have known the house existed?"

"Right."

"I see." She rubbed her forehead wearily.

"You get it, don't you?"

"You don't have to hit me over the head with a two by-four. When a guy owns a residence his wife doesn't know about and goes to considerable lengths to keep it a secret, there's usually only one reason. Howard is cheating on his wife. He uses the house for the occasional secret rendezvous. He intends to get a divorce.

He's going to say good-bye to Kris."

Travis nodded.

"But California is a community property state…"

Abby untucked her legs and got off the bed.

"Which means the Barwoods' assets will be divided down the middle. And that's a problem for Howard, because while his wife is extremely well off, he's worth much more than she is. He doesn't want to surrender half his wealth. To shield as much of it as he can, he's secretly transferring their assets overseas, hiding them under the umbrella of a shell company incorporated in a jurisdiction with extremely tight banking secrecy laws.

That way, when the assets are divided, there'll be less to divide."

"All of which is perfectly legal," Travis said, "as long as he paid his U.S. taxes. There's no law against moving money overseas, even if the intent is to shield it from a claimant in a lawsuit or a divorce." He ejected the CD.