“You won’t get a dime!” she was screaming, thrashing as they walked her toward the door.

“The money’s gone!

It’s already gone, do you hear me?” And from the kitchen table the forensic accountant looked up from his laptop, unhurried, almost kind.

“We know exactly where the money went, Mrs.

Vance,” he said.

“We froze the account in Grand Cayman a little over two hours ago.

Every dollar you moved out of his portfolio has been flagged for seizure under the state’s forfeiture statutes.

It’s not gone.