The Link
I found it at eleven forty-three Wednesday night. Not at my desk on the forty-third floor — at my kitchen table, laptop open, a cold cup of tea at my elbow, the Jersey registry still loading on one tab and the Harrow Capital filing open on another. I’d been at it since seven. The floor had emptied at six. Lucian had said good night at six thirty — the open door thing was becoming a pattern — and I’d stayed another hour before taking the files home. The beneficial ownership chain for Harrow Capital ran through four entities across three jurisdictions. Clean on the surface. Complicated underneath, the way Webb built everything — designed to take time, to cost resources, to discourage the kind of sustained attention that wasn’t professionally justified. I was professionally justified. At
- Writer
