Valerie and Lorne had almost finished dressing when there was a knock on the door to their suite, followed by a muffled voice. "Mummy, please may I come in?"

Lorne zipped his fly and buckled his belt as he strode across the room to the door and opened it. "Yes, you may."

"Daddy! When did you get home? We've been waiting for you."

"A while ago." He spread his arms and Chloe stepped into a hug.

"Oh!" She tilted her head up with a quizzical expression. "How did you sneak past? I've been in the foyer reading and watching for you for the past two and a quarter hours, and Chianti's been lying at the door."

"Maybe I climbed the façade and came in through the window." Lorne chuckled as he moved a stray plait of hair from her cheek."

"Why would you do that?" She scowled then giggled. "No, you didn't. You're joshing, Daddy."

"Maybe I arrived before you began your vigil."

"That makes more sense. So, why have you ... Oh!" She grinned as she looked at her mother, the bed and then back into Lorne's eyes. "I see."

Valerie adjusted the sleeves of her jumper as she joined them at the door. "We were just about to head down, Sweetheart. What were you reading?"

"On my iPad – reviews on alternatives to Autodesk Homestyler."

"Why do you need alternatives? I thought you were impressed with Mrs Haskett's software."

"I was until I discovered it's for PC only and not available for Mac."

"Hmmm. So you came up to ask my opinion? I know nothing about interior design software."

"No, not that. George sent me up to ask when you wanted dinner."

Valerie pointed out through the doorway. "Well then, let's head down and tell him we'll eat whenever it's ready." She linked her arm in Lorne's and led the way to the stairs. When they reached the floor below, she paused. Still a tad confused. No place to relax down there. "We'll sit here while you go tell George, Sweetheart."

Lorne pointed toward the furnished end of the drawing room. "No, I'll go talk with him; you relax here." As he headed around to the descending stairs, he continued, "I need to find out what we're having so I can choose an appropriate wine."

As they settled into one of the davenports, Valerie asked Chloe, "So, what do you think? Does it feel like home?"

"I want it to, but it still feels strange."

"How so?"

"Like, we moved here on Monday, but we really didn't move here until today, and I haven't even slept in my bedroom yet."

Valerie nodded. "Yeah, we've been changing beds each night for many days now, haven't we? Today is actually our first day here – our first officially-moved-in day." Oh, God! It really has happened. So fast. From intriguing conversations to respect. To love. To sweeter fucking than I ever imagined –

"Your eyes have gone strange, Mummy. Are you okay?"

"Hmmm." She trembled. "Just thinking about the past few days. So many changes."

Chloe pointed to the front of her mother's jumper. "You're thinking about Daddy, aren't you?"

Valerie glanced down, then blushed. "Yes, Sweetheart." Should have worn pasties. Or a bra.

"This feels like home for you already, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." She bobbed her head as she sighed. "Yeah, it does."

"Okay. Then if it feels like home for you, it does for me as well."

"You don't have to feel the same as I do. What would make you more comfortable?"

"We need cushions on the deacon's bench. It's really hard to sit on for a long time." She wiggled into the deep upholstery of the couch. " I kept getting a numb bum."

"It's not meant as a seat except when putting on or taking off shoes or boots."

"There's no place else in the foyer to sit."

"You could have sat up here. This is very comfortable, and it's familiar."

"Then I would have missed Daddy coming home. I so much want the experience of welcoming him at the front door. I know it's a cliché from the books and movies, but I've not before had the opportunity to do it."

"Hmmm." Trying to catch up on all the fatherless years. Like I'm trying to catch up on all the sexless ones. "I'm sorry to have foiled your plans, Sweetheart. He came in as I was seeing Miss Moore out."

"Oh! And you snuck him upstairs."

"Remember how you lectured me about the need to do some things in private?"

"For two and a quarter hours?"

Valerie bobbed her head, warming as she thought about it. "Yeah, some experiences are timeless."

Chloe snickered as she pointed at her mother's jumper front. "You're budding again, Mummy."

"Yeah, I know. I get the warm fuzzies whenever I think about him." She looked up at the sound of steps as Lorne and Chianti approached. "All organised?"

"Dinner at seven thirty. Another forty minutes." He nestled on the couch between Valerie and Chloe while Chianti settled at his feet.

They were silent for a while before Chloe laughed and pointed. "Look at us. Sitting here like the Ramesses temple sculptures, and Chianti down there posing as if she's the Sphinx. What do families usually do? Surely not just sit and pose."

Lorne laughed. "These days, they watch TV, but in ancient times, long before the pharaohs of Egypt, they told stories. Originally, these were accounts of actual events, but as they passed from generation to generation, they became more like myths, anecdotes and fables that stretched reality to show lessons."

"Yeah, before writing. It would be like that game of sitting in a circle and whispering a few words in the next person's ear, then having it passed on. What comes back around is often hilarious." Chloe tilted her head. "That was the basis of the Bible, wasn't it, Daddy?"

"Yes, and also of the Torah and the Quran."

Valerie chuckled as she rose from the davenport. "You two continue your discussion; I need to check my messages. Lydia said she'd send me an update before she left the office." She switched on her phone and walked to the windows as it cycled. Then once in, she clicked the email icon and selected the one from Lydia.

          Hi, Val;
          Too much to tell you by email. Call me.
          Lydia

Lydia answered Valerie's call immediately. "Hi, Val. He's now in Saint Helier, and we've a fine picture of the situation."

"Who have we watching him? What have they found?"

"Darryl, Andrew and Hamish are there – our numbers one, two and three. Broughton owns a four-storey building in the heart of King Street's business district. The ground floor and the first are a women's clothing store, and the top two floors are residential flats."

"Would we be able to get banking details on the lease payments?"

"It'll be tricky with the Bailiwick. UK laws and powers are limited in the Dependencies, so our court orders are pretty much worthless. We'd have to prove the fraud to them through their own justice system."

"What about arrest warrants?"

"Fortunately, we've a longstanding reciprocal agreement with them on arrest and transport."

"Well, that's a relief. What else have you?"

"Hamish watched him carry two large bags of groceries from Marks and Spencer across the street, so it's rather likely he's living there."

"So, it's safe for us to walk the dog this evening. Oh, God, how strange this has become."

"I'll have Darryl message you if Broughton heads to the airport, the ferry or to a private boat. You can relax. We'll keep a twenty-four-hour watch on him."

"That's a huge relief. So, what else?" 

"Andrew followed him to GoldMoney, the international bullion department of Jersey Finance. I've scrambled to ascertain what the offshore reporting requirements are on bullion, and so far, there seems to be none. I tasked Andrew with inquiring about opening an account to see whether the new reporting regulations include bullion holdings." 

"Hmmm. Likely a loophole."

"Yeah, why else would he bother? Oh, and Superintendent Driscoll has accepted my depositions on behalf of Sylvia and Roxana. The charges have been filed, and they're now added to his arrest warrant."

"Wow! Have you told them?"

"I was composing the email when you phoned."

"You're working late."

"We'll all take a break when this is over. No sense easing up when we're this close."