Once a Killer (31 page)

Crouten shrugged. “You can’t pin that one on me. You know better than I do that investigations can hit a dead end even when they look promising.”

“You’ve never been wrong like this before. Your record is as good as they come.”

Crouten raised arms. “I guess this is my first screw-up. I’m not proud of it.”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“That’s not how it looks to me, Floyd.”

“I had nothing to report, so I put my head down on our other cases.”

“Are any of those likely to bring us quick results?”

“I’ll take another look, but I doubt it. The last thing I’m going to do now is raise your hopes.”

After Crouten left his office, Caravini sat sulking at his desk. He’d just broken one of the cardinal rules of self-promotion: always under-promise and over-deliver. In some of the press interviews he’d given recently, while mentioning no names, he’d virtually set out a trial timetable for Hoffman and Grannis. And when pushed for specifics, he’d given the press strong hints about a partner at a major New York professional services firm and another hedge fund manager involved in a conspiracy to commit securities fraud. He’d been a fool to rely on Crouten’s judgment without first checking the evidence himself. Unless he had another high-profile scalp soon, another bone to throw to the press, momentum would be lost and he could kiss the mayoral election goodbye.

There was still something he didn’t get: Why had Crouten been avoiding him recently? It wasn’t like him to withhold bad news. He was normally thick-skinned. Something about his manner didn’t seem right just now either. Crouten was one of the most tenacious agents he’d ever known, and yet, on this one, it appeared he’d given up without much of a fight. Grannis was up to something; that much was certain. The evidence had to be there if they looked hard enough.

Caravini picked up the phone. “Abi, can you come in for a moment?” He reached into his top drawer for some Tylenol.

Seconds later, Abi came in.

“Shut the door,” he said, narrowing his eyes to reduce the pain building up behind them.

She walked over to his side of the desk and placed a bunch of opened envelopes in front of him. “The mail just came,” she said. “Can I have your signature on these while I’m here?”

She slipped two memos under his nose, and he took his time signing them, his left hand running up and down the inside of her thigh under her skirt.

“I need you to do something for me,” he said.

“Anything.”

Caravini stopped groping her.

“I was enjoying that.”

“It’s related to work.”

Abi looked disappointed and moved around the desk to take a seat facing him. “What do you need?”

“You’ll need to be discreet.”

“I’m good at that. Remember?”

“This is serious.”

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’ve got a headache coming on. That’s all.”

Abi pointed to the tablets next to the phone. “Let me get you some water for them.”

“In a moment.” He leaned forward over the desk and lowered his voice. “I want you to find out who helped Floyd on the Grannis investigation.”

“I know Brad Kaminski was helping him at one stage.”

“That’s right; he was. Find out if there was anyone else working the case.”

Abi looked confused. “Why don’t you just ask Floyd?”

Caravini raised his left eyebrow slightly. “That’s where the discretion comes in. I don’t want him to know I’m asking questions.”

“I see. Has Floyd done anything wrong?”

“No. Why do you ask?” Caravini’s tone was ill-tempered. The migraine was now gnawing at the back of his left eye.

“It’s just that when he left your office just now, he looked stressed. No, more like worried. I thought maybe you’d had words with him. I’ve never seen him act that way.”

Caravini pondered on what Abi had just told him. “Let’s just say he disappointed me.”

“From his reaction, I’d say it looked more serious than that.”

“Interesting.”

In the three years they’d worked together, Caravini had learned Abi was a good judge of people. She had an ability to understand body language and could read between the lines in a way he found difficult to do. Why would Crouten appear so worried after their meeting? He hadn’t given him that hard a time. Was he hiding something?

“Anyway, find out who else he was working with besides Kaminski.”

“I’ll let you know.” She stood up to leave.

“There’s something else I need.”

“Okay.”

“I want you to bring me the Grannis surveillance log.”

“Won’t it be on the system?”

“Sure, but I want to see the original log notes. They’ll be in the case files.”

“I assume Floyd is not to know about this, too?”

“You got it. Can you bring them to me right away?”

“Of course. I’ll get you some water, as well.”

Chapter 41

K
AMINSKI
L
OOKED
W
ORRIED
when he turned up at Caravini’s office that afternoon. He’d never been summoned to a meeting with the assistant director on his own before.

He tapped on the open door. “You wanted to see me?”

“That’s right,” Caravini said. “Shut the door and take a seat.”

The headache had faded, but his irritable mood had worsened as a result of what he’d since read on the Grannis surveillance log. The records showed there was much more evidence than Crouten had led him to believe this morning. Something was not right, and Caravini was intent on getting to the bottom of it.

Kaminski spotted the Grannis file as he took the seat on the other side of the desk. “Should I ask Floyd to join us?”

“No. I’ll be meeting with him later.” Caravini flicked through the log. “How many times would you say you’ve seen Hoffman meeting with Grannis?”

Kaminski thought for a moment. “Five, maybe six times.”

“Always at Cedar Street?”

“No, there was one time we trailed Hoffman to Brooklyn.”

“Brooklyn?” Caravini ran back and forward through the paper records. “There’s no mention of that in here and nothing on the system.”

“There should be. I wrote it up myself.”

“It’s not here, I’m telling you.”

“I can’t explain that. I’m sorry.”

Caravini blew air through his teeth, and his shoulders sank. “Tell me about Brooklyn.”

“Well, we followed Hoffman in his car to a warehouse down near the container port. We didn’t actually see him meet Grannis there, but the car parked outside the building was registered to one of Grannis’s companies, so we put two and two together.”

“Who’s we?”

“Sorry. Floyd and I.”

“There’s nothing here about a car registered to a Grannis company.”

“That note must be there. Floyd wrote it up after Towers came in here and told him the company was linked to Grannis.”

Caravini shook his head. “What is this? Amateur hour? I’ve been through this thing several times. There’s no note of a meeting here with Towers, only the one I attended in Connecticut. Floyd said he’d spoken to Towers since, but I assumed that was on the phone, not face to face.”

“He definitely came in here to see Floyd. Something’s gone wrong with the filing. I know the note of the Towers meeting was in there. I saw it myself.”

Caravini stopped himself before swearing. “I can’t work like this. There’s nothing on the system, either. It’s like I’m working with a bunch of imbeciles.”

“I’ll look into it right after this.”

“Did Towers have anything else to say when he saw Floyd? Besides linking the car to a Grannis company.”

“You bet he did. Something that got Floyd and me really excited. He said he’d seen a call from Grannis on Hoffman’s cell phone. He had no idea what the call was about, but Floyd said it proved a strong connection between them.”

“Okay.” Caravini bit his tongue. “I’ll pick that up with Floyd.” He pushed the file to one side. “When did the surveillance cease?”

“About a month ago.”

“For what reason?”

“Floyd just announced one day that he thought the investigation was going nowhere and told me to stop what I was doing on it. He said he’d discussed it with you, and that’s what you wanted. Said you were concerned it was wasting resources.”

“We’re done for now. Can you ask Floyd to come and see me right away?”

Kaminski kept wringing his hands. “I hope I haven’t said anything I shouldn’t have…”

“What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know. You seem a little upset.”

“You’ve told me the truth, haven’t you?”

“Of course.”

“And there’s nothing more I need to know?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then you’ve done the right thing. I’m not upset with you.”

“Okay. I’ll tell Floyd you want to see him right away.”

“You do that.”

What the hell was Crouten thinking? How could he terminate the investigation when the evidence was so compelling? And why was half the file missing? If someone wanted to crater the Grannis investigation, they couldn’t have done a better job of it.

The headache returned but, this time, it felt like a woodpecker with a migraine.

Chapter 42

T
HE
F
IRST
J
OURNALIST
T
O
A
RRIVE
was from
The Wall Street Journal
, and she turned up at eight for her power breakfast meeting with Caravini. The next two arrived at nine and ten for their “exclusive” interviews with the city’s crusader against financial crime. While their questions were different, Caravini made sure he covered the same ground: yes, he was about to expose another major securities conspiracy; yes, it would lead to multiple indictments; and yes, it involved another corrupt asset management firm making money from inside information. Oh, and by the way, he had no objection to posing for photographs if it helped better communicate his zero tolerance message to the great people of New York City.

“Coffee?” Abi asked as Caravini passed her desk on the way back to his office.

He’d held the interviews in the special media room, where the lighting was better for the photographs and the furniture was newer. The last thing he wanted was the public to see the cramped, low-budget reality of their future mayor’s existing office space. That would do nothing for the image. He had to appear as if he already held a high-status position if he wanted the electorate to take him seriously.

“I couldn’t take another one. I’ve been drinking it all morning. Just glad those interviews are over.”

“Floyd’s been looking for you. He apologized for missing you last night.” She winked at him. “He said something came up at the last minute.”

“I bet it did. Tell him to come and see me right now.” He carried on toward his room. “And I don’t want any interruptions once he’s here.”

There was a timid tap on the door a few moments later, then Crouten put his head around. “Brad tells me there are some notes missing from the log.” He started making his way toward his usual spot.

“Not there.” Caravini pointed to the chair on the opposite side of his desk. He needed to eyeball Crouten this time. “I want you here.”

“Do you want me to have a look for the missing notes? They’ve probably been misfiled. They won’t have gone far.”

“No. I’ll tell you what I want.” Caravini picked up the log and held it in the air. “I want to know why this is a worthless piece of shit.” He threw it back onto the desk with a bang.

“Some things are missing. I know.”

“Not just missing. They were never put onto the system in the first place. It’s like they never existed.”