Evelyn David - Sullivan Investigations 01 - Murder Off the Books (5 page)

 
“Thank you. Now, what can I do for you? Or rather for Ganseco?” She smiled at the detective, but Mac noticed that her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. Without waiting for him to answer she added, “We’re going to need Ganseco to pay our claim sooner rather than later or I’ll have a choice between laying off professors and paying the electric bill.”

“I understand.” He had his own bills to pay. He needed to solve this case quickly and get his check from the insurance company nearly as much as Ms. Fieldstone did. “What can you tell me about Vince Malwick?”

“He was a terror of a man but seemed to be an excellent comptroller,” the woman calmly answered. “I’ve been at Concordia for three years. Vince had been here forever. I learned very quickly that he was as much a part of this institution as the bricks and mortar. You didn’t cross him if you wanted something done quickly.”

“Who would have wanted to kill him?” Mac asked, watching her body language, looking for signs of deception.

Audrey Fieldstone relaxed back in her chair and stared him straight in the eyes. “It would be easier to tell you who didn’t. I think he might have gotten along with his secretary, Angela Lopez, and maybe Lenore Adams, head of the computer department.” She sighed. “Mr. Sullivan, I’m afraid if disliking the man is reason enough to kill him, then everyone on campus is a suspect.”

Mac nodded, writing down the two names in his notebook. “What about Daniel Thayer?”

“I’m sorry,” the woman said. “I was at a conference in San Diego when Vince hired him and I just haven’t had a chance to meet Mr. Thayer. If he’s the one who killed Vince and stole the money, then I have to share part of the responsibility. I signed off on his employment based on Jack Starling’s written recommendation and…and because it was always easier to just give Vince what he wanted.”

“Why do you suppose he would have agreed to meet someone in the clock tower?”

“God only knows. It probably appealed to his sense of the dramatic. Vince always had an over-blown sense of his importance to the college.”

Chapter 6

Mac took the stairs to the second floor, checking the numbers on the doors until he arrived at 206, the Comptroller’s Office. Underneath was a small, brass plate inscribed 
Vincent Malwick
. Pushing open the door, he walked into a large room furnished with three standard issue metal desks and a row of matching filing cabinets.

“I’m looking for Angela Lopez,” Mac said to the student sitting at the first desk. Glancing up briefly from her game of Minesweeper, the co-ed, with very long, straight black hair, cocked her head towards the corner, indicating the other occupant of the room, an unpleasant looking woman with a phone growing out of her shoulder.

Angela Lopez was talking in a low voice on the phone to someone whose replies were loud enough for him to hear across the room.

Looking up, she gestured for him to come over and take a seat in front of her desk, while she continued her conversation.

“I understand that you have bills, but until outside auditors have finished….” Lopez finally lost patience, cutting off the caller in mid-rant. The secretary to the recently deceased Vince Malwick put the receiver back on the phone and glowered at her visitor. “What do you want?”

Before Mac could answer, the woman held up her hand in admonishment. “I’m warning you–you won’t get paid any faster by harassing me in person. In fact your bill will go to the bottom of the pile.” She swept her hand over the tall stack of paper in a large wire basket taking up a quarter of her desk. “A pile that’s getting bigger every hour. So tell me,” she asked, giving him a tight smile, her beady eyes flashing, “do you want your bill at the bottom of this pile?”

Never breaking eye contact, Mac slowly got to his feet. He placed his hands on the edge of her desk, and leaned forward, looming over her and her paper hostages. “The question is does Concordia want their bill at the bottom of Ganseco Insurance Company’s claim pile? I got the impression from Ms. Fieldstone that the college might need the money in order to avoid a layoff of non-essential personnel. Wonder if Vince Malwick really needs a secretary anymore?” He waited for the wheels to turn.

She rolled her chair back from her desk a few inches, regaining her personal space. “What company did you say you represent?”

“Ganseco Insurance,” Mac answered.

“I see.” She nervously licked her lips, “Insurance payments are due quarterly and
….”

Mac shook his head. “I’m investigating the recent embezzlement of college funds.” He produced his private detective ID, as well as a letter from the insurance company. “I understood that the President had sent an e-mail asking for cooperation. Cooperation that I don’t seem to be getting.”

Lopez sighed. “I’ve told the police everything I know.”

“In your interview with Detective Atwood, you said that the accounts in question had always reconciled and that you had the paperwork to justify all payments to vendors, is that correct?”

“Yes,” the secretary answered, “at least those payments that I was involved with. I didn’t have the authority to issue a check of over $200 without Mr. Malwick’s approval.” She raised her eyes to meet his. “I’ve been with the college for almost twenty years and never had my work questioned.”

“I’m not doubting you, Mrs. Lopez,” Mac said, putting up his hands in defense. He was telling her the truth–he didn’t doubt her. She was a bully but not a thief. “Then can I assume that you were surprised when the computer account discrepancies were revealed?”

“Yes.”

“What did Mr. Malwick say?”

“He was upset, of course,” she sniffed. “Asked me to produce all the invoices related to the college computers–hardware, software, and maintenance–which I did.”

“How many vendors are involved?”

“DMG has the contract for new hardware purchases. Computer Doctors has the contract for on-site computer maintenance. There are several vendors that provide software.”

“There’s more than $500,000 missing. Who got overpaid?”

“Dan Thayer said Computer Doctors and DMG did.”

“Your tone indicates that you don’t agree.”

“All I know is that I log in all invoices. Someone may have authorized extra payments to those two vendors but I didn’t see any extra invoices.”

“You didn’t issue the extra checks yourself?”

“Absolutely not. Regular vendor checks are cut by another department; it’s all computerized.”

“They may print and mail them, but this department authorizes the payments?”

“Yes.”

“So who authorized the extra payments to DMG and Computer Doctors?”

“I don’t know.” Lopez sighed. “But Mr. Malwick thought Dan was involved.”

“Why?”

“Because all the extra payments were made after Dan started work here.”

“Who can authorize payments besides you?”

“Legitimately only Mr. Malwick of course and…and Dan Thayer.”

“How did Malwick and Thayer get along?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Fine.”

“Mrs. Lopez, if you’re not honest with me, this investigation is going to get bigger, last longer, and involve more paperwork.” Mac glared at her. “Do you have a good lawyer?”

“I’ve got nothing to hide,” the secretary retorted, her hands gripping the edge of her desk.

The PI took a step closer and pointedly laid his hand on the stack of invoices in her in-basket. He remembered that the problem with using the physical dominance technique was that it only worked on some people for a short period of time–then you had to give them a reminder. “Then you better start cooperating with this investigation. What happened last Friday?”

***

Mac walked down the stairs to the main exit of the Administration building. Apparently the anonymous e-mail tip to the President, revealing that funds were missing, had been the spark that had resulted in an explosion between Vince Malwick and Dan Thayer. Mrs. Lopez had overheard most of it–shouts about computer accounts, passwords, set-ups. Mrs. Lopez had seen Dan Thayer storming out of Malwick’s office. Thayer hadn’t spoken to her, just grabbed a few personal items off his desk. Later Malwick told her Dan wouldn’t be returning and to clean out his desk, bringing him any papers she found.

“What did you find when you went through Dan’s desk?”

“Not a lot. Letters to various vendors, some D.C. maps, blank bidding forms and envelopes, copies of recent reports, and
….”

“And what?”

“Two receipts. One from Arlington Chrysler Dealers. It was a down payment on a Jeep Cherokee. The second receipt was for a cruise to Antigua, set to sail next month. He’d already asked for the time off, but told us he needed the time to deal with some family business. He lied to us.”

Mac took a step back. “Lying may have been the least of it.”

***

The concrete and glass computer center at
Concordia College was the jewel in the small campus’ crown. It had been opened amid much fanfare two years earlier, and still attracted visitors.

Mac scanned the building directory and headed for the stairs. Lenore Adams, director of the computer center, had her office on the second floor. According to Ms. Fieldstone,
Adams had worked closely with Malwick developing the specs for the computer systems and upgrades that the college put out to bid each year.

The glass-fronted door of the director’s office was covered with a rumpled piece of paper which read, “As a computer, I find your faith in technology amusing.”

Mac pushed open the door.

“Can I help you?” A young woman in her late teens reluctantly looked up from her computer screen, then stood and stretched. Her short spiked black hair was shaved over her left ear, which sported a silver hoop earring the size of a tennis ball. A red plaid flannel shirt, cargo pants, black studded leather belt, and heavy work boots completed the receptionist’s attire.

“I’m looking for Lenore Adams.”

“She’s on the phone,” the young woman glanced over to the console. “Is she expecting you?”

“My name is Mac Sullivan, representing Ganseco Insurance. Ms. Fieldstone said she’d tell her that I’d be stopping by today.” He handed her a card and smiled as her eyes widened when she read “private investigator” under his name.

“She’s been out most of the morning. She’s just now gotten on with Microsoft tech support so it could be a while. You want to wait?”

Mac nodded and sat down in a molded plastic chair. A quick glance at the end table revealed a half dozen computer magazines and a copy of the Concordia Clarion, the student newspaper. The headline, “Death on Campus,” caught his eye.

“Everyone talking about the murder?” Mac asked picking up the newspaper. The photograph under the headline was of the clock tower–sort of. The photographer had deliberately skewed the perspective so that the top of the tower seemed to be falling towards the camera. His stomach roiled just looking at it.

“Yeah. The newspaper put out a special edition. Great picture, isn’t it? Beats all those prissy homecoming queen photos,” the young woman said, suddenly appearing next to his chair.

Mac wondered how she could move so quietly in those boots.

One long blue fingernail tapped on the newspaper. “I heard the shooter took it lying on his back and pointing upwards.”

“Shooter?”

“Yeah. The cameraman…oh. You thought I meant…. No.” Lenore Adams’ secretary went back to her desk, crossed her arms over her chest, and stared at him. “Are you investigating the murder?”

“Not exactly.” He tried the famous Sullivan smile on her. “I’m sorry I didn’t get your name earlier.”

The girl’s green eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Julianna Jarrett. Everyone calls me JJ.”

“Mac Sullivan.”

“Yeah, you said.” She gave him a tight smile. “You know–earlier.”

“Right.” Damn smile wasn’t worth the dental bills. The girl was looking at him like he was about to offer her candy to sit on his lap.

“Did you know Vince Malwick?”

“No.” JJ picked up a ballpoint pen, clicking the button in and out.

“No?”

She clicked the pen. “Not really.”

“Mr. Malwick never came here to see Miss Adams? Never called?”

Click. “He never came here, while I was working.” Click, click. “Uh, his secretary and that new guy called a lot. I spoke to them, but Malwick never came on the line until Lenore was on hold.”

“You call your boss Lenore?”

Click. “What else?” She stared at him.

He didn’t know what else. He was wasting time. “Miss Adams still on the phone?”

JJ looked at the lights on her desk phone. “Yeah.” Click. Click.

Mac got to his feet and walked over to the lone outside window in the office. He was surprised to see the clock tower only a few hundred feet away. The winding halls on the second floor had turned him around, rendered him directionless.

“Mr. Sullivan?”

Mac turned to see a woman in her late thirties standing by JJ’s now empty desk. He hadn’t heard the girl leave.

“I’m Lenore Adams.” The woman’s ash blonde hair brushed the lapels of her tight red designer suit. Her wide blue eyes sparkled with pleasure as she held out her hand to him.

Mac gave her his ‘all business’ smile, while trying to avoid looking at the long legs revealed by the very short narrow skirt. This woman was trouble. Big trouble.

***

Lenore Adams sat down at her desk and looked directly into his eyes. “How can I help you Mr. Sullivan?”

“I’m working for Ganseco Insurance. Can you describe your involvement with the purchases for the college’s computer systems?”

“Certainly. It’s part of my job to write the specs for the hardware and software that the college orders.”

“Specs?”

“For some departments, like the science programs, they know exactly what they need and I merely review their proposals and pass them along to be put out to bid. But for most of the humanities and the administration, I review what each office has and upgrade or replace as needed.”

“And Malwick’s office was responsible for the bidding process?”

“Yes, my job was to make sure that the companies understood what they were bidding on and then to check that what we received met the contract specs.”

“And you worked directly with Malwick on this project?”

Adams nodded. “For the first couple of years I did, but recently….”

“Recently, what?”

“Vince assigned one of his assistants to work with me.”

“Who was that?” Mac asked.

“Daniel Thayer.”

“Did Thayer understand computers enough
….”

“Absolutely. He was very techno-literate.”

“What was Thayer like?” Mac probed.

“What do you mean?”
Adams asked, her eyes shifting to the gold watch on her left wrist.