Read Online Beautiful Lie the Dead by Barbara Fradkin - Free Book Online Page B

Her brow furrowed in concentration as she studied the list. “She has a modest RRSP but that hasn’t seen any activity since last February. Tax time. Besides that, there’s the unsecured line of credit and one personal bank account, a full-service chequing account that typically sees several transactions a day. She uses web banking to pay her bills. Right now this is the balance on that account.”
    She paused to write the figure down for him. $11,328.32. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. So much for the global economic recession.
    â€œThe five thousand dollar loan came through,” the manager explained. “It was deposited three days ago, and it’s reflected in her line-of-credit figure.”
    â€œCan I have a printout of that entire banking summary, and also of the recent transactions in her chequing account?”
    â€œOf course. How far back do you want?”
    â€œThe last two weeks.” He hesitated. You never knew what would be important. “Make that the last two months.”
    She clicked some buttons and the printer beside her began to hum. While they waited, she studied the screen, then glanced at her calendar with a frown. “That’s funny.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œHer last two transactions were December 14. That was Tuesday.”
    The day after she disappeared, he realized, just as the manager must have. “Is there a delay in registering it in the system?”
    She shook her head. “Not with debits. On weekends or after business hours, yes, but only to the next business day. Not a whole twenty-four hours later.” She plucked the printed sheets from the machine and handed them to him.
    He glanced at the latest two entries. One was an ATM withdrawal for $300 and the other a payment of $176.25 at The Bay department store. Neither one would have been a preauthorized automatic withdrawal.
    â€œCan you tell where these transactions occurred?” he asked.
    â€œI can tell you the ATM right away.” Her fingers flew over the keyboard. “The TD bank on Pretoria Avenue in the Glebe.”
    Whelan frowned. The Glebe was an old residential neighbourhood south of Centretown and Pretoria was a short street running along its northern edge. However, neither Pretoria nor the Glebe was anywhere near Meredith’s work, her home or her fiancé’s home.
    â€œFor The Bay, you will have to find out their store code through them.” The manager smiled. “But I’m sure with a little detective work you can find out not only what store she shopped at but what she bought there. It’s all on computers now.”
    Whelan nodded absently as he folded the printout into his growing file. His mind was already racing ahead to a better idea—the security camera at the ATM in the Glebe. As he rose to leave, she looked up at him, startled.
    â€œDon’t you want to know credit card activity too?”
    He sat down with a thud, cursing his stupidity. Getting old and soft behind a desk.
    She clicked more links. “Now, there is a time lag with credit cards, because businesses have to submit the charge to VISA, which has to approve it. It can take a couple of days, so to get the most up-to-date charges, we will have to contact the VISA office itself. However, this list is worth a look.” She printed off the past two months, and Whelan studied them. At first glance there was nothing suspicious. The card had a modest balance of $2110.36 owing, and the latest charge had been posted on the Monday of Meredith’s disappearance—a charge of twenty-five dollars at D’Arcy McGee’s, a trendy downtown pub, the previous Saturday. Other charges over recent weeks were for shoes, liquor, gas, adventure gear, pharmacy supplies and odds and ends. As he scanned the list, he was aware of the bank manager on the phone with the credit card company. She was jotting notes as she listened and a flicker of curiosity crossed her face. When she