“We need to combine what we have,” I said.

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Clara said.

The heavy grandfather clock in the estate hall struck nine.

I sat at Robert’s massive desk the next morning and called Daniel on a secure line.

The morning sun angled through the tall windows, lighting up the dust in the air.

“He brought me a white tax waiver to sign yesterday afternoon,” I said.

“It was the authorization for the Friday transfer.”

Daniel exhaled loudly into the receiver.