Mrs. Whitlock plugged the drive into the boardroom laptop, and the big screen flickered to life. The first file was an email from Gerald, sent at eleven at night, instructing me to process a transfer to a company called Tidewater Supplies. The second was another. The third was a text message with the bank details. Gerald stood and shouted that the files had been forged.

Mrs. Whitlock did not answer. She clicked a folder named Companies House, and a registration page filled the screen. Tidewater Supplies had been incorporated eight weeks earlier, and its sole director shared a surname with Gerald’s wife. The room went completely silent. Then the boardroom door opened, and two people in dark jackets walked in. One held a badge and said, “Mr. Pike, we would like a word.”