Richard was a retired banker with a spotless reputation in the community.

If Richard was managing the cash, his retired status and his legacy would be destroyed.

“Is Richard’s handwriting in here?” I asked, pointing to the book.

“Yes,” Sophia said. “The red ink is Daniel’s. The blue ink is Richard’s. Richard corrected the totals every month.”

I reached out and touched the cover of the book.

It felt cold, slightly damp from being in her bag.

I pulled the elastic band free and opened the first page.

The columns were neat.

Dates, names of clients, amounts in thousands of dollars, and initials next to each entry.

“These clients,” I said, reading a name I recognized. “This is the developer from the north side.”

“He paid Daniel fifty thousand in cash to fast-track the permits,” Sophia whispered. “Daniel gave ten thousand of it to a city inspector. It’s all in there.”

“And the rest?”

“The rest went into the safe deposit boxes,” she said. “And some of it was used to buy the jewelry and the apartment furniture.”

“How much total?” I asked, looking up at her.