Chapter Thirty-Three

Deborah Muir called him herself, a week after Brannigan’s body was found, her careful professional caution from their café meeting entirely gone from her voice for the first time. ‘The referral’s been actioned,’ she said, without preamble. ‘Properly, finally, with a full team behind it rather than just me working it alone in whatever hours I could steal from three other cases. I wanted you to hear it from me directly, given everything. The accounts are frozen. The Guernsey company’s beneficial ownership is finally being unpicked by people with the authority to actually compel the disclosure I could only ever request politely and wait months for.’