My Boss Fired Me And Blacklisted My Entire Career. He Thought My Dad Was Just A Boring Retiree, But He Just Uncovered A 32-year Secret. Who Is Losing Everything Now?
Over the next two hours I got the full picture. Marcus Hartwell, fifty-one years old.
Self-made millionaire—or so he claimed. Started Hartwell Financial Group twenty years ago.
Wealth management, investment consulting, corporate accounting. Big client list, flashy lifestyle, expensive cars, downtown penthouse, vacation home in Whistler.
Daniel pulled up the company website on his phone. I looked at Marcus’ photo.
Slicked-back hair, expensive suit, the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes. I’d seen a thousand guys like him over my career.
The kind who thought money made them untouchable.
“Has he ever done this before? Fired people like this?”
“I’ve heard stories.”
“Three years ago a woman in HR complained about him making inappropriate comments. She was gone the next week.”
“Last year one of the senior advisers questioned some investment decisions. Fired for poor performance.”
“People don’t talk about it openly but everyone knows if you cross Marcus, you’re done.”
“And the accounting errors he claimed you made?”
“Complete fabrication. I have documentation proving everything I did was correct. But he controls the narrative.”
I nodded slowly. The picture was getting clearer.
Sarah’s voice was quiet.
“Bob, even if you used to be RCMP, you’re retired. Marcus has lawyers. What can you actually do?”
I looked at her, then at Daniel. My son, who’d spent two weeks thinking his life was over because he didn’t know his father had spent three decades learning exactly how to deal with people like Marcus Hartwell.
“I’m going to make a call.”
Daniel frowned.
“To who?”
“Someone who can help.”
I picked up my phone and walked into my study. Closed the door.
I scrolled through my contacts until I found the name I needed. Marcus Trent, former colleague.
We’d worked together on a major fraud investigation fifteen years ago. He’d moved to Vancouver eight years ago.
Now he worked for the BC Securities Commission. We’d kept in touch—Christmas cards, occasional calls.
The kind of friendship that doesn’t fade even when you don’t see each other often. He answered on the second ring.
“Bob McKenzie, it’s been a while.”
“Marcus, I need a favor.”
“Name it.”
“There’s a financial consulting firm in Vancouver, Hartwell Financial Group. Owner’s name is Marcus Hartwell. I need to know if there’s anything worth looking at.”
There was a pause.
“That’s an interesting question. Why?”
“He hurt my son, and I think there’s more to the story.”
“Give me twenty-four hours.”
I hung up and walked back to the living room. Daniel and Sarah were sitting exactly where I’d left them, looking at me like I’d just spoken a foreign language.
“What now?”
Daniel asked.
“Now we wait.”
Wait for what?
“For Marcus Hartwell to realize he made a mistake.”
Sarah shook her head.
“Bob, I don’t understand. One phone call and that’s it?”
“This man has destroyed Daniel’s reputation. He’s blacklisted him across Vancouver. What can one retired cop do?”
I sat down across from them.
“Sarah, in thirty-two years with the RCMP I learned something important.”
“Powerful people reveal themselves when they think they’re untouchable.”
“They get comfortable, sloppy. They think nobody’s watching, and that’s when they make mistakes.”
“Marcus Hartwell thinks I’m just a retired nobody living in a small town. He has no idea who he’s dealing with.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Dad, what exactly are you planning?”
“I’m not planning anything illegal, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m simply going to let the system work the way it’s supposed to.”
“Sometimes it just needs a little push in the right direction.”
They stayed for dinner. Sarah made pasta while Daniel and I sat on the back deck.
He was quiet, processing everything. Finally he spoke.
“All those years I thought you had some boring government job. Mom always said you worked hard, but I never really knew what that meant.”
“Your mother knew. She worried every time I went to work. That’s why I didn’t bring it home.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m going to use what I learned to protect you. Because that’s what fathers do.”
The Cracks in the Armor
The next morning Marcus Trent called me back.
“Bob, you’ve got good instincts.”
“Hartwell Financial Group has been on our radar for about six months. Nothing concrete yet, but there are patterns.”
“Client complaints about unexplained fees, investment returns that don’t quite add up.”
“We’ve been watching, but we didn’t have enough to move forward.”
“What do you need?”
“An insider would be helpful. Someone who knows how the books work. Someone who can point us toward the irregularities.”
“I might know someone.”
I called Daniel.
“Did you keep copies of your work files?”
“Everything. I backed up my entire work folder before they escorted me out. Why?”
“How would you feel about helping an investigation into Hartwell Financial Group?”
There was a long silence. Then.
“What kind of investigation?”
“The kind that looks at whether Marcus has been managing client money properly. The kind that could shut him down if they find what I think they’ll find.”
Another pause.
“You think he’s stealing from clients?”
“I think he’s cutting corners at minimum. At worst, yes, I think he’s been running a very sophisticated scheme.”
“And I think you’ve probably seen pieces of it without realizing what you were looking at.”
“How can you know that?”
“Because men like Marcus Hartwell don’t get this arrogant without getting away with something for a long time.”
“They start small, test the boundaries. When nothing happens, they get bolder. It’s a pattern I’ve seen a hundred times.”
“If I help and they find something, what happens to him?”
“If he’s broken the law, he faces consequences. Real ones. The kind money can’t buy your way out of.”
I could hear him breathing on the other end of the line, thinking.
“He told me my career was over. He’s been calling people, destroying my reputation, making sure I can’t work anywhere in Vancouver.”
“He looked me in the eye and smiled while he did it.”
“I know.”
“I want to help.”
Two days later Daniel met with Marcus Trent and his team at the BC Securities Commission offices. He brought every file, every email, every spreadsheet he’d saved.
