Stacey made a throwaway gesture. A Zen movement. I have met defeat and accepted it. "They said they understood that we weren't responsible for Jordan's bullshit," she said. "It'll take a while to straighten out exactly what he was responsible for. But I dropped a stack of paper on them this morning. All the loan repayment books that turned up at our place, a contact number for that mortgage guy who turned up, and the lease papers from his Red Hill place."
"Where'd you get them?" I asked, a little surprised.
"They were in the kitchen drawer, third one down, same place everyone puts their lease papers. It should be enough for their fraud guys to go on with. Before I gave it over I made a little bad P.R. pack, copied everything, mailed it off to the fraud control departments at all the credit card companies, the banks, the place he got the SAAB loan and so on."
She smiled a frayed, jaded smile.
"I also rang the Church of Scientology. I said I'd loved reading Dianetics and it'd really helped me out but I needed more help because my brother had a huge win at the casino and he was spending it all on drugs. I begged them to help him, demanded they intervene, then I gave them Jordan's address. Pleaded with them to get over there and get on his case because he had a lot of money to spend and he was very vulnerable."
"Bet that gave them a woody."
"Made me feel like a natural woman."