That evening, he met with a cybersecurity consultant named Rebecca Shaw, a former investigator who specialized in corporate fraud.
Rebecca examined the USB drive in a secure office.
“There’s a lot of encrypted material here,” she said. “Some of it appears to have been deleted and restored. I can’t authenticate anything until I inspect the underlying files.”
“Can you tell whether the drive has been altered?”
“Not yet. Whoever prepared this knew enough to make the contents difficult to verify.”
“How long will it take?”
“At least a day for a preliminary assessment.”
Alexander nodded.
Rebecca paused.
“Before I continue, I need to ask you something. Is this connected to the Carter investigation from twelve years ago?”
He looked at her.
“How do you know about that?”
“Because I’ve been researching it independently.”
“Why?”
Rebecca closed her laptop.
“Three months ago, an anonymous source sent me a set of financial records linked to Northbridge Capital. I couldn’t establish whether they were authentic, so I stopped investigating.”
“Who sent them?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did they mention Eleanor?”
Rebecca went completely still.
“Where did you hear that name?”
Alexander felt his pulse quicken.
“Victoria Hale.”
Rebecca slowly opened a desk drawer and removed a printed page.
It contained a list of company directors connected to Northbridge Capital.
One name was circled in red.
Eleanor Carter.
Alexander stared at it.
“Emily’s mother?”
Rebecca nodded.
“She was listed as a director of a company that received several transfers from Northbridge Capital. But here’s the problem: every public record indicates she died before the transfers occurred.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Unless the records were falsified, or someone used her identity.”
Alexander remembered the mysterious message from the caller.
Your uncle wasn’t the only Whitmore who knew about the transfers.
He looked at Rebecca.
