“We have less than two hours,” I said.

“Yes,” Sarah added. “And the international wire transfers are scheduled to settle at the end of the business day in Panama.”

“Which is what time?” I asked.

“Four o’clock Eastern,” Sarah said. “Once that money hits the Panamanian account, it will be moved again within minutes.”

“To where?”

“Probably a jurisdiction that does not cooperate with US court orders,” Sarah said. “And where asset recovery is nearly impossible.”

I felt a cold sweat break out on the back of my neck.

I stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the rainy streets.

My father had spent forty years building this company.

He had sweated over every contract, shaken the hand of every laborer, and built a reputation of absolute integrity.

And now, a corrupt husband and his mistress were going to dismantle it in an afternoon.

“There must be another way,” I said, turning back to them. “A commercial bank cannot process a transaction of that size without compliance flags.”

“They can if the compliance officer is bypassed,” Sarah said. “Preston has been using a personal banker at Vanguard who has been on his payroll for years.”