ColdScheme (9 page)

“Why did you?”

“Like any other citizen, I wouldn’t think of refusing to
cooperate with the police.”

“You thought about it for a long time,” I said.

“I’m a banker. I have to consider all my decisions in great
depth.”

“Why would someone have sent a waiter to die at your feet?”

“A warning.”

I looked at Ken and saw that he was willing to consider
this.

“If you think it’s a warning, who has been threatening you?”
I continued.

“Not me, personally but my policies, business
practices—functions and established procedures.”

“Unfriendly foreign interests muscling in on the Tavistock
banking stronghold?” I murmured. It seemed plausible but if that were the case,
we faced a global army of hostile factions.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. It surprised me, because his
voice told me it was true. He suspected something but wasn’t sure—or hadn’t
figured it out yet.

I sighed. “Intimidation by waiters who drop dead at your
dining table—we’re dealing with people who can reach right into your…”

“Chest and rip out your heart,” he filled in glibly.

“We should leave this to Olsen and the rest and go help Joe
tour the hospitals,” I turned to Ken.

“Why would you want to give up such an interesting case as
threats and intimidation in the banking circles?” He raised his voice. “I would
have thought you’d like to find out a possible cause that may lie behind this
new warning method.”

“As you pointed out, sir, it’s an overwhelming case. We like
to share our workload with our colleagues,” I said and moved to the dining
room. “Thank you for your cooperation,” I spoke over my shoulder. “If you’re
staying in Baltimore for any length of time, it might be a good idea if you
appointed someone, a liaison, to deal with the police inquiries.”

Ken moved after me. I was five feet away from the door when
his voice sounded.

“Detective Stanton, would you mind? I’d like to have a word
with you, in private.”

“I’ll wait for you outside. It’ll give me a chance to see
what the rest have collected. I wonder what else there is that he hasn’t told
us?” Ken murmured to me, as he walked out.

Chapter Five

It was an executive office, just like all the other offices
he maintained. I’d never seen him use any of the high-tech tools scattered
around the room. Not even the phone. He had enough people to do such things for
him. He merely gave orders.

“You have a difficult job,” he said.

“Is there anything else you wish to discuss about the
murder?” I wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

“How are you?”

“Fine. Is there anything else?”

“More than ten years of silence, invisibility, anonymity and
hostility.”

“Is there anything else, sir?” I repeated.

“Ellie, you didn’t have to cut me out like that, throw away
your degree and your future.”

“I have my future. I saved it from you.”

“I was wrong. I’m sorry. At the time, I believed it was the right
choice.”

“And since it was your choice, you wanted to carry it out
quickly, without asking me.”

“Your history is filled with questionable choices. It was my
guiding principle.”

“I settled my history and my head in the hospital. I spent
two months healing. I finished my law degree and continued with a Master’s. I
was making right choices. Things would have worked out, regardless of the
hardships.”

“I wanted you to stay in school. I didn’t think you’d finish
if you had other responsibilities.”

“A child is not just a responsibility. She was my choice. My
emotional commitment.”

“That came through when I read the report about what you’d
done. You could have killed yourself—and your child.”

“My child was in danger. That gave me the strength to jump
out of your limo. I was only physically bruised. The bruises healed. Had I not
jumped out, I would still be in pain.”

“You gave up everything you worked for.”

“Willingly. It wasn’t that important to me to be a lawyer.”

“Was it that important to be a single parent?”

“These days, single parents are a majority.”

“You didn’t have to be.”

“It was my choice. I’ve lived with it happily for ten years.
I intend to continue.”

“Happily?”

“Yes. I like my life. I like my job. I like who I am.”

He shook his head. “You’re not like your mother or anyone
else in our family. I used to wonder where your genes came from.”

“Hell. But once I left it, my genes regenerated. Is there
anything else you wish to discuss? My partner is waiting.”

“Did you ever look for the father of your child?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“He disappeared. It was his choice. It left me free to
define mine.”

“Why didn’t you get married?”

“I was busy raising my child and working on my career. Maybe
I feared that I might meet someone like you.”

“Unlike your child’s father, I never ran out on any of my
wives and responsibilities,” he said, pursing his mouth.

Ten years ago, when I jumped out of his limo, he was on his
seventh wife.

“It might have been cheaper than divorcing yourself from a
portion of your assets every two or three years,” I smirked.

“I’m not married now,” he said.

I was surprised that he was not offended by a topic that was
at the root of my destructive behavior while growing up. Perhaps because I was
no longer a teenaged enigma, he felt comfortable discussing it.

“So you’re not cheating on anyone with Ms. Alliston? That
must be a novelty for you.”

“I never cheated on your mother.”

“But her death burst the floodgates, is that it?”

“For a long time after she died, there didn’t seem to be any
point in living.”

“It came back quickly enough—Darlene, Cynthia, Jessica,
Amanda, Erin—and a lot more. I lost track.”

“Sometimes it takes a lifetime to realize that there is no
replacement for what you’ve lost.”

“As people get older, they become more philosophical and
spiritual. Is that what’s happening to you?” I laughed and shook my head.

“You’ve become cynical. You’re only thirty-two. Your
brothers became craftier as they got older but not cynical.”

“It’s late. I have a ton of work to do before I go home. Is
there anything else you wish to discuss regarding this incident?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were married?”

“Had I told you would you have not sent that limo?”

“I believed I was acting in your best interests, with the
information I had. You never gave me a chance to think otherwise.”

“Really? I thought it was just parental anxiety, not wanting
to see me bear an illegitimate child. It would have harmed my political
aspirations.”

“I had hopes for you. I won’t deny it. Especially once I saw
how well you did in school. You could have been Nellie Clarrington’s boss by
now.”

“Your sons have made you proud. Christopher’s in the House
of Representatives and Tim is being touted as your heir-apparent.”

I was never close to my brothers. I was four when my mother
died. I was too young to remember her clearly. Christopher was thirteen and Tim
was twelve years old. The age gap was too big for us to bond. Besides, they
were the obedient ones, not rebels like I was.

“I have three children and always will. You can’t change
that, Ellie, no matter what you do.”

“I’ve changed it on my side. I don’t have to worry about
what it looks like on yours.”

“That’s a pretty harsh decision.”

“Your decisions were always harsh.”

“A payback?”

I shook my head. “I just walked away from the pain.”

“So my granddaughter will not be allowed to find out about
her family roots?”

“She’s free to search once she turns eighteen. Until then, I
control what she knows.”

“You used to accuse me of control,” he said quietly.

I turned. I could see that he wasn’t going to end this
difficult meeting. The only way I could do it was to walk out.

“Ellie,” his voice vibrated after me. “You’ve exiled
yourself for more than ten years. Don’t you think that’s enough? You’ve proved
your point.”

I spoke over my shoulder. “I never set out to prove
anything, Father. All I want is to be left alone and raise my daughter.”
Leaving him with that painful reminder, I walked out.

* * * * *

“Do you think Joe is right?” Ken asked, when we were in the
parking lot. It was crowded with police cars and official traffic.

“You mean about Jeffries not knowing he had the device
implanted in his chest? It’s hard to believe but I suppose it’s possible.”

“How can you not know?” He shook his head.

“Joe will probably have a theory by tomorrow,” I suggested.

“What about his other theory? Should we forget about the
motive and concentrate on finding this mad scientist?”

“Well, we’ve established Brick’s motive was money laundering
but with Jeffries… What would they need a hotel waiter for?” I wondered.

“It could be just like Tavistock said, a warning. By the
way, his executives lectured me about the man when I asked them. Didn’t I know
that he is the Chairman and the owner of the third largest private banking
institution in our country? His name is spoken with reverence. It rings in the
company of homegrown American royal lineages, such as the Vanderbilts, the
Morgans and the Kennedys. The man’s our President’s golf partner, for God’s
sake.”

I could imagine Ken’s expression when the assistants had
lectured.

“Someone who would use a human being to deliver a warning
like that would have to be warped, not just ruthless,” I said.

“He wouldn’t be bothered by conscience,” he agreed with a
sigh.

“If that device were improved and became explosive, he could
place the bomb next to the target. Neither victim would be aware of anything,”
I said softly, turning to look at him.

He stared at me, with shock-widened eyes and whispered,
“Joe’s right. The motive is not important. We have to find these criminal
masterminds. Maybe Brick was a guinea pig. Maybe their real target was
Jeffries.”

I didn’t think so. “Brick was implanted to set up money
laundering operations. That’s the motive. Jeffries was the alternate use—a
deadly messenger. Brick was controlled. Jeffries was used. He was not just a
warning. He was an example of what these people can do. They can target anyone,
implant them and then either control them or use them as a warning.” I paused
and shook my head. “Or, if they want to, they can just destroy them outright.”

“It has to be a doctor or someone in the medical field,” he
murmured.

“The research that went into the device is medical but the
application is terrorist.”

“You said that foreign interests were trying to muscle in on
the Tavistock banking strongholds? Do you know who’s behind it?”

I shrugged. “I read the papers. It’s an old story—foreign
interests, trying to muscle in on the US banking operations. There’s always
someone, offshore, looking for new ways to launder money in the US. The banking
system has many safeguards to track and discourage that kind of activity.”

“Didn’t Brick write a smart program for a bank in Lima about
tracking tax shelters or something?”

“It wasn’t the same as money laundering but it was in the
category. We’ll leave Creeslow for a while. We should visit the IMF tomorrow
and then see where Jeffries lived. Did you get anything on his family, friends,
girlfriends?”

“He was another Brick. He didn’t even have a girlfriend.
There’s no family. The security guard, Amato, was his only friend.”

“Maybe that’s a requirement. They pick people with no family
and few friends. I wonder if Jeffries had a part-time job?”

“With an armored car service?”

“Not necessarily. He wasn’t implanted to work for them. He
was a walking ghost, a deadly greeting card. I’d like to find out whether he
had ever been admitted to a medical institution, or worked in one. Your wife
could probably help us with this,” I said, averting my eyes.

He cleared his throat. “Brenda wouldn’t have told Joe that.
He just leapt to a conclusion.”

“He doesn’t leap to conclusions. He’s a medical examiner.
Are you going to ask her about it?”

“No.”

“That’s probably wise. I’d hate to see you doing the singles
bar scene—at your age.”

“How do you know what a singles bar scene is like?”

“I tried it when I was twenty-five. It didn’t thrill me.”

“I’ve thought of marriage,” he grumbled.

“So did Brenda, often, by the sound of it.”

“She’s never brought up the subject.”

“Did you?”

“I thought about it.”

“Say it out loud, Kenny. She can’t read your mind.”

“There’s nothing wrong with our relationship,” he answered
shakily.

“Then why would marriage spoil it?” I asked.

He was still mulling it over, when I spooled out of the
parking lot.

* * * * *

Jazz must have seen the unhealthy shine in my eyes when I
dared to open them wider. She ate her breakfast in silence. Mrs. Tavalho came
early and wouldn’t let me pay her extra.

“You should have called me last night,” she said, cleaning
the kitchen counter. “I would have come.”

“My neighbor looked in on Jazz. I can’t trouble you in the
middle of the night, every time I have an emergency at work,” I sighed.

“You came home at five and you’re off again?” She clucked
her tongue.

“That’s the nature of my work.” I smiled tiredly. “There are
long periods when not much happens but when something does…”

“When something does, you pick up the phone and call me,”
she said sternly.

“Was somebody shot?” Jazz asked, not lifting her head.

“Finish your breakfast and then go brush your teeth,” I
said, ignoring the question. I never talked about my work at home. “Here’s five
dollars.” I put it beside her plate. “That’s for a snack. Do your homework.
I’ll phone to let you know when I’m coming home.”

“We have to draw a family tree for our social studies,” she
said in a subdued voice.

“Draw a branch, or two—for you and me.”

“Everyone has a family tree. The teacher won’t believe me if
I draw a branch.”

“Have her call me.”

“Why can’t I have a family tree like all the other kids?”
she asked tearfully.

“You’re resourceful. Make one up. Whatever you put on it,
I’ll back you up with your teacher.”

“I want a real one, not a fake one,” she whispered.

I thought about the opulent penthouse and the tall, thin man
in a blue sweater and taupe slacks. “There isn’t one. There never was.”

I went to get my car keys. Half an hour later, I picked up
Ken.

We went to the Langtry Office building. We had an
appointment with Ms. Sedgwick at the IMF. I’d called to confirm it and used the
opportunity to tell her that we wanted information on an ex-employee, Jonathan
Brick. It’d been four years since Brick had worked at IMF so I figured it would
take the clerical staff some time to dig it out of the archives.

“I’ve only been here two years,” Ms Sedgwick told us,
opening a file. “I may not be able to answer all your questions but I’ve pulled
whatever information we have on Mr. Brick from the personnel files.”

“Do you know what projects he worked on?” I asked.

She smiled and shook her head. “I’m an administrator. I
won’t be able to give you technical details, only what’s in his file. After you
called, I reviewed the information so I’d be able to give you a comprehensive
summary. His performance review was excellent. He was a programmer and a
mathematician, not just an economist. He was developing a mathematical model.
It was based on the recommendation of the Financial Action Task Force that was
set up a few years ago, during a G7 Finance Ministers’ meeting in Okinawa. They
review rules and practices of several countries and territories, concerning
criteria, standards and cooperation in a fight against money laundering. They
issue advisories to domestic financial institutions. These are based on the
data provided by Financial Intelligence Units. The model was complex. It would
have been available to all the domestic banking institutions. It also would
have helped them track even the slightest activity of money laundering. It also
would have contained a component to track money laundering by government
officials who seek to divert public assets. Once it had been implemented
domestically, we could have sold it worldwide.”