Paul entered the Sorrento, a restaurant only a five-minute drive from the headquarters of the Invicta. He brushed passed the line of waiting diners and briskly reached the table where Malcolm sat, eating his dinner. "Sorry to interrupt your meal, Malcolm, but I have striking news about Tanya's relatives." He sat in front of him.

"You're going to have to speak up," Malcolm said, his mouth still partially full of fish. "With all this noise, I can't hear a word."

"That's music, Malcolm, not noise. They're Neapolitan songs," Paul said with a laugh. "I have bad news." He enunciated each word with care, exaggerating the syllables with his lips.

"Let's hear it."

"Tanya had an aunt, Jo Anne Withley, as you know. She was a half-sister of Tanya's father, Henry. She became Jo Anne Crowford with her first marriage…"

"…she then married Ron Withley and had a daughter, Susan. Why are you telling me something I already know?" Malcolm frowned at Paul and took another forkful of food from his plate.

"Finish your fish while I finish my story," Paul said, brushing aside Malcolm's complaints. "In between her two marriages, she married Leslie Hadson-"

"Leslie Hadson? That Leslie Hadson?" Malcolm's fork lingered in mid-air.

"Yes. There's more. The father of Leslie Hadson was the director of the Montreal firm which handled the Caldwell's investments in Europe-the firm that defaulted."

Malcolm put down his fork and stared at Paul.

"That firm liquidated all of Tanya's parents' assets here and in Europe. They split them into three deposits that we know of: one in France, one in Switzerland, and one in Italy. Ron Withley was nominated Tanya's Power of Attorney through a Canadian Consulate in Italy."

"Legally?"

"Legal enough to authorize financial transactions. Conspicuous amounts of money were withdrawn systematically for Tanya's needs-enough for a princess."

"Is there more?" Malcolm asked, his gaze intent on Paul.

Paul nodded. "The fund consisted of more than two hundred million dollars."

"Two hundred!" Malcolm nearly jumped from his seat, and yelped with such force, his voice carried over the entire room. Diners at the closer tables turned to stare at him. Malcolm, not at all disconcerted, focused on what Paul had to say.

"Yes. Two hundred, originally. Only two and a half million can be traced now. Traced, mind you, not found. It was a scam." Paul leaned back, more at ease, now.

"Where are these people?"




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