That is the only moment in all of this when I have been properly frightened of him. Not angry. Frightened.
Because I understood, standing in that doorway with my hand in his, that the man can do a whole event from the outside of himself, and that he had been doing it, on and off, for nine years, and that I had watched him do it at an altar and cried about it.
The money.
I reported it.
A hundred and eighty-two thousand, seven hundred, taken from a company with nineteen staff and a pension scheme, through a vendor account he set up himself in 2020 and signed off himself under the delegated authority my father gave him in the January of 2021, eleven weeks before my father died.
I sat with my auditors on the twenty-ninth of October and I told them everything, and then I asked what my options were, and the senior partner said: "You haven't got any. You've got a duty."
