Page 53 of The Secret
“I talked to Boni, and got him to pull immigration and airline records. Then I wrote a script to collate information about every person on that list. Nothing matches Dan. I also can’t find any phone or bank records for a Dan Andrews or Horizon Holdings.”
“But Boni got the phone records from Econet, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, I’ve got what Boni had, but they’re not on Econet’s system anymore.”
“How do you know that?”
“I hacked into their system. Sorry it’s taken so long, but … yeah … very obsolete technology.” He hums. “I’ve been wondering whether they’d delete records for a number that’s no longer in use.”
“Sounds logical, I guess.” I chew my lip. “You said bank records … Wait a minute … how did you know where he banked?”
“University payments. I hacked into the university’s financial records first.”
I almost want to laugh. I didn’t need to sweet-talk Jaya that day, did I? Fabian could have hacked into any system I needed.
“Can you hack into anywhere?”
He laughs. “Well … there’s always a back door into a system.”
“Are you serious? That’s just scary.”
He laughs again. “It’s actually awesome if you know what you’re doing. You can find out anything. Anyway, Horizon banked with Standard Bank, and the payments for Dan’s rental were paid from there, so I hacked into Standard Bank which has taken a hell of a long time because the system is like twenty years out of date and I had to put some serious research into how to do it.”
I snort. “God, that sounds tortuous. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“S’all good, Liss. I’ve learned a lot. But the depressing thing is that I’ve found nothing. No account for Horizon Holdings. I had the account number the payments came from. That doesn’t appear to exist anymore, but I also checked more widely than that. Right across all their records.”
My God, he’s thorough. “Wow.”
“Clearly they deleted everything, but why? They’d have no cause to unless someone asked them to close the account, and who’d ask them to close it? Dan was the sole director, wasn’t he? And even then I think they’d keep a record on closed accounts for a certain amount of time. There was nothing there, Liss.”
God everywhere I turn it’s a dead end. But there could be a simple explanation for this, couldn’t there? “Maybe Dan closed it when he left the country.”
He hums again. “I guess. But the records would still be there, Liss. It’s weird.” He lets out a long sigh in my ear as I stare unseeing down the street. I’m just numb these days. Maybe in my mind he’s already gone, like Jo and Kate said, and my throat tightens uncontrollably.
“Anyway, I wanted to let you know because I’ve kind of reached an impasse. I’m so sorry, Liss.”
“S’okay.” I stare up at the skyscrapers like big square fingers reaching up into the sky above my head. “I’ve kind of been not getting my hopes up anyway. The radio silence from him, for so long … it’s all been …” My throat is too tight to continue.
“Are you okay?”
Maybe he can hear something in my voice. “I’m good. Maybe I’ll see you later with Kate?”
“Bank on it. Let’s have dinner tonight at your place. We’ll bring food. I’ll let Kate know. I’m so sorry, Liss.”
“Thanks for everything.”
“My pleasure,” he says and hangs up.
I turn my head and blink down the road toward the subway, trying to stop the tightness in my throat taking over my whole body. I can make no sense of it. I’ve never been able to make any sense of it. My eyes drift over the people on the street, a blond man heading up the sidewalk. Something about his loping walk sends my heart into my mouth as he negotiates the cars at the intersection, and the honking noises of Manhattan traffic fade out. He turns to head along a crossroad, and I trot down the street, narrowly catching the lights. I’m a couple of hundred yards behind him now, catching glimpses of his curling blond hair through the sea of people. He rounds the railing at the top of the subway stairs, and I push through the crowds as my heart leaps and then goes into freefall as I see his face.It’s not him.It’s not him.
The flow moving down into the subway threatens to sweep me down, so I flatten my back against the wall of the building on the corner as people stream past into the station. I close my eyes.Breathe, Liss. My God. There’s no way he’d be on the streets of New York. I know that. Why am I acting like a lunatic? I open my eyes again, the tide of human traffic washing past me. One or two eyes flick over me in the checking-out-the-Manhattan-crazies way, and I start to count my breaths. This is getting worse, not better. But what do you do when you can’t climb out of the hole you’re in?
The phone in my hand buzzes, and, grateful for any distraction, I peer at it.Letty.
Where are you?
I press call, breath slowing as I’m pulled back into the real world.
