The Ledger

Fiona's reply arrived the following evening. She would meet for twenty minutes, without recording, and nothing could be attributed to her without explicit agreement. "Bring dates, not theories," the message concluded.

Emma arrived early at a quiet café near the river and chose a table from which Fiona could leave without having to pass behind her. She ordered tea, then closed her notebook. She wanted to be ready to listen rather than conduct an interrogation. Through the window she watched people crossing the bridge, their coats lifting in the wind. She had travelled north in search of answers, but she had begun to suspect that the most useful thing she could do was slow down.

Fiona arrived exactly on time, a canvas bag over one shoulder.

"I remember your article," she said before sitting down.

Emma did not defend it. "I published a claim I couldn't verify. I'm trying not to repeat that."

"Then listen carefully. I handled entries for the trust. I wasn't the only person with access, and I didn't authorise every payment."

"When I was younger," Emma said, "I thought a source who refused to answer was hiding something. I wrote as though that were a fact."

"And now?" Fiona asked.

"Now I know it might mean I haven't earned an answer."

Fiona did not smile, but she remained in her chair. Emma opened her notebook. Fiona explained that an award approval, a payment instruction and a bank confirmation were three separate records. Comparing a brochure's promised maximum with an annual report's paid total could be misleading. But a legitimate discrepancy ought to have an explanation in the records.

Fiona drew three small boxes on a paper napkin, joining them with quick, firm lines.

"My daughter used to say I couldn't explain how to boil an egg without making a flowchart," she said. She seemed surprised to have mentioned her daughter at all.

Emma looked at the boxes: approval, instruction, confirmation. A delayed transfer could be corrected later, Fiona explained, but each stage left a different kind of trace. Fiona folded the napkin and slipped it into her bag. Emma made no move to photograph it.

Emma showed Fiona the dates from Calum's emails, hiding his personal details.

"The trust wrote that the payment was being processed on the nineteenth of November 2010," Emma said.

Fiona studied the date. "Then find the payment instruction from that week. And check whether there's a bank confirmation."

"Do you remember the entry?"

"I remember the system. I won't certify a record I haven't seen."

"Did you keep copies?"

Fiona folded her hands on the table. "I didn't say that."

Emma was tempted to ask whether Fiona had ever seen Claire in the office, or whether Malcolm Vale had ordered someone to alter a record. Neither question followed from what Fiona had actually said. Emma glanced at the clock and decided to use her remaining minutes on a narrower point.

"If the later summary disagrees with the original," she asked, "how would I tell whether it was a correction or something more serious?"

"You'd need the amendment history," Fiona said. "Who changed the entry, when they changed it, and what document supported the change. An amendment isn't automatically dishonest. But it shouldn't be invisible."

Emma let the question rest. Fiona had agreed to discuss a process, not to become an anonymous source for a predetermined accusation.

At the door Fiona paused. "Check the original ledger entry for that date before you publish anything. A later summary isn't the same document."

"Why that date?"

"Because you can test it."