No Stone Unturned

The closet shelf was filled with clutter, including old magazines, books, newspapers, and a rumpled-up shoebox containing letters that had turned a dingy yellow and old Christmas cards from several years ago.  As I carefully moved the disorderly accumulation, placing the items on the single bed, I noticed three tattered large boxes to the rear of the shelf.  I retrieved them, wiping the layer of dust from the top before I opened the first one.  Mary Richard watched very intensely as I removed the top from the second box.

“Why don’t you look through the first box, and I’ll take the second one,” my sister said.

“Okay, anything you see with large money amounts or large withdrawals, put it aside,” I remarked.

After searching through the mounds of old bank statements, we still had not discovered anything to indicate exactly when the money was first changed.  Maybe Effie had stored all of the statements with changes or large checks in another location.  Then I removed the third and final box.  I put the box lid on the foot of the bed and carefully turned the entire box upside down on the white bedspread.  As I rummaged through the contents, there was one piece of paper that caught my attention.  Everything was in envelopes except this green and white computer printout.  It had been neatly folded in the center and was underneath the statements.  As I unfolded and read the document, my heart sank.

“My God, this is the written proof of how Daddy had all of his certificates of deposit before his illness.”  The printout had been generated on April 10, 1988, a month before he was diagnosed as having Alzheimer’s disease.

As I read the paper over and over, I felt a sense of relief knowing that if there were litigation concerning Daddy’s money, this document would prove what I’d been saying all along.  I carefully folded the paper and returned to the den to put this important finding in my purse.  After reading all of the old statements, we neatly put the materials back in the original place and returned the boxes to the closet shelf.

“Mary Richard, do you realize how fortunate we are to have copies of all Daddy’s certificates of deposit in our possession?”  I asked.  “There have been several changes at the bank since April 1988.  We were lied to by the branch manager about these changes.  That’s okay for now.  One day I’ll research every account listed.  At least, now I have something in writing. It would be hard to trace a certificate if I didn’t have the transaction number.  With this information, I have the numbers, name, type, and the origination dates of each certificate.  Effie can’t deny that his money has been changed once we confront her with this document.  For now, keep this between us until the right time.”