When I bought that stake in the March of 2024, my own people did the work. Larkspur Holdings, which is my vehicle and which exists so that nobody ever has to know, took thirty-eight per cent off two founding families who wanted out, and the diligence ran for nine weeks.
It threw up four amber items, which is normal. Three were boring.
The fourth was in the Verrin industrial division, and it was about revenue recognition on service contracts — about whether a three-year contract was being booked in a way that flattered the quarter it was signed in.
My analyst’s note is one paragraph long and it ends with a recommendation to request further information from the divisional head.
The divisional head was Dashiell Kerr.
I read that paragraph on the nineteenth of March, 2024, at my own kitchen table, with my husband asleep upstairs.
And I did nothing about it for eleven months.
