Page 84 of Saving Ian Pope

Julian glanced up, the light above his desk gleaming on his bald head and reflecting off his glasses. “Nice to see you, Ian and about time. Jack has been keeping me busy with all these expenses, but it’s good to see you releasing new music again.”

“Feels good. How are the investments doing?” I sank into a deep leather chair facing his desk, inhaling the sweet scent of tobacco from a recently smoked pipe.

“Excellent. I’ll do a top-level review with you. Let me know if you want to dig deeper into anything, and we’ll discuss the distribution of all the money you’ll be earning this year.” Julian unplugged his laptop and carried it around to my side of the desk. He was a hands-on accountant, who wanted to make sure everything was clear for his clients. That’s what I liked about him. I’d learned loads about business from Julian.

He took the seat beside mine and put the laptop on the desk in front of us. For the next hour, he took me through my investments, and we discussed selling a few properties.

“You plan to stay in your current house in Woodsbury?”

“Yes, hanging onto that. It’s close to my daughter. Was thinking of purchasing something in Los Angeles.”

Julian drew his glasses to the end of his nose. “Again? Same area as before?”

“Not sure. I’ll have to consult my...friend about a location.” I wanted to buy a house for Ivy, for both of us. If I admitted it was for her, she’d raise all kinds of objections. I’d have to pretend that I needed a residence there for business. My lips turned up thinking about what a fuss she’d make.

“Let me know when you’re ready to look at properties.” Julian tapped his screen. “Just want to review Jack’s expenditures that he submitted over the past six months, and then we’re done. I’ll send you an email with an attachment of your financial summary.”

My eyes glazed over a little as Julian went through Jack’s expenses for Sarah and Penny, clothes and travel, studio time, payments for the musicians. The voice of Julian’s partner from the other room jolted me out of my revery.

Julian took off his glasses and pushed back his chair. “Excuse me one minute while I see what Robert needs. You can look over the rest, if you like.”

When Julian left the room, I pulled the laptop closer to me and scanned the spreadsheet. My gaze skimmed down the rows until an entry caught my attention. I tapped my finger on the cell and read aloud. “Chase Arts.”

“All done?” Julian entered his office and hovered over my shoulder.

“What’s this expense? Chase Arts.” I drove two fingers into my temple to massage the sharp pain that had penetrated my skull.

Julian shoved his glasses on his face and leaned in. “Not sure, really. It’s a newer expense. By the color-coding I use, I can tell it’s a charitable expense but not tax-deductible. Here, let me bring up the spreadsheet detail.”

He reached over me and highlighted a tab at the bottom of the spreadsheet that brought up an itemized account. He studied the data for a second. “Right. It’s a donation to the arts, private, so it doesn’t come under the tax-deductible category. Looks like Jack started monthly payments in October for $25,000 US dollars. Just made a payment for December. Do you have a problem with this? Not authorized?”

Yeah, I had a problem with it. What was it? Why was Ivy’s last name on it, and why did it start in October, the month she moved to England?

I cleared my throat, which seemed to have closed up on me. “Can you tell what the payments are for?”

“Not really. I’m assuming it’s supporting some kind of community art project. I know you like to help struggling artists by paying for supplies and classes and such, and as they’re not a 501c, the donations aren’t tax deductible. So, this isn’t a tax issue.”

“I-it’s just that I’ve never heard of this Chase Arts.” Coincidentally, I knew a Chase. I just didn’t realize I was paying her for her art...or anything else. Something else caught my eye on the spreadsheet, and I stayed Julian’s hand before he closed it. “Wait. What’s that name?”

Julian read it aloud. “Matt Russo. Ring a bell?”

“Not one. What’s his name doing on this Chase Arts organization?”

“He’s the coordinator for the fund, I suppose. I’d suggest you talk to Jack about it. He’s usually good with his accounting. I haven’t had any suspicions about him at all.”

Oh, I planned to talk to Jack, alright, and I had plenty of suspicions of my own.

***

As I stood outside the building waiting for my car, I turned up my collar and pulled my coat around me to stave off the chilly, damp air that rose from the river. My teeth started to chatter, as I checked Ivy’s flight. She’d been in the air for over an hour and was just leaving the UK. She had another ten hours to go.

She’d also sent me a text message letting me know the flight was taking off, telling me she loved me, and including a bunch of silly emojis. Even the eggplant emoji couldn’t raise a smile from me. What the hell was Chase Arts, and who the fuck was Matt Russo?

I bobbled my phone and dropped it on the ground.Matt. I knew that name. When I’d been in LA with her, she’d gotten a few texts from a Matt. Was I giving my money to Matt? Was this all some kind of huge scam?

I ducked down to retrieve the phone just as my Uber pulled to the curb. When I got into the car, I stabbed Jack’s number on my display. He didn’t answer, so I texted him to let him know I was coming to his place, and I’d wait for him. I didn’t want to give him a heads-up about Chase Arts or Matt Russo. Didn’t want to give him time to formulate a lie. Jack didn’t do well thinking on his feet.

Numbness seemed to take over my brain on the way to Jack’s place. My thoughts moved like sludge. Could this be some coincidence? Wasn’t Chase a common name in the US? I knew Matt was a common name. Had someone conned Jack into thinking this organization was connected to Ivy? If this was for Ivy, why didn’t she just ask me for a donation?

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