That woman was not loose-tongued in her life. She was eighty-four years old and she was laying bait.
What happened to the bait.
Between the March of 2023 and the June of 2025, that account was emptied.
Not in one go. Fourteen transfers, none over nine thousand, each authorised with a signature that a document examiner has since called “a competent but not expert imitation.”
Every one of them went to the same place: a client account operated by Yardley Rowe Capital, and out of there into three companies I had never heard of.
Ondine Marr set up eleven of those payments. Her name is on the instructions. She was my husband’s assistant, and my husband gave her my grandmother’s account details.
And the entire time, the two of them believed they were quietly bleeding an old woman’s estate.
They were lifting sixty-one thousand out of a fishing net while two point one million sat in a trust with two trustees and a deed neither of them ever saw.
