“He put together the fake consent form, had his assistant sign as the witness, and used your father’s desk stamp to seal it,” Arthur said.

“He knew Richard had stolen the four hundred thousand dollars, and he built this filing to bury the crime before the November twentieth bank audit.”

“That makes Bradley Collins an active participant in federal bank fraud,” I said.

“It does,” Arthur said.

“And if we put these yellow folders in front of Judge Reynolds at nine o’clock tomorrow morning, she’ll freeze the whole estate on the spot.”

My cell phone buzzed against the wooden library table, the screen showing the command line from the Oakridge Military Reserve Depot.