The Fregoli Delusion (6 page)

“Sound like you think so, too.”

“Diane’s a friend of mine. I have
enormous respect for her.”

“Hang on a sec,” Karen said. “Did
your boss suddenly get cold feet? Did he change his mind and decide he couldn’t
give all this up, after all?”

“Not at all. Once he’d made the
decision, it was like he was suddenly twenty years younger. All he could talk
about was St. Lucia, the boat he was going to buy, the friends he knew down
there, how cheap the property was, and how great it was as a tax haven. He
couldn’t wait.”

Karen wondered if someone might
have killed Jarrett to stop the transition, but it didn’t make sense to her
since Jarrett retired and Jarrett dead would have the same basic outcome—a new
president and CEO—so she decided to switch gears. “From the sounds of it you
know these executive characters pretty well.”

“Yes, I suppose you could say I
do.”

Hank was writing something in his
notebook, eyes down, so she pressed on. “Okay, let’s start with Raskin. Did you
see him come in this morning?”

Kelly shook her head. “I saw him
first about ten thirty. We were watching the TV in the large board room. It was
the first he’d heard about it.”

“Large board room?”

“This is the small board room.
There’s a larger one on the other side of the floor.”

Karen looked around for a moment.
For a small board room, it had about the same square footage as the apartment
in which she’d lived before moving in with her fiancé, Sandy Alexander, last
year. She had trouble understanding why they’d need a larger one. “So you can’t
vouch for him any earlier than that.”

“That’s his usual time to get in.
He follows a workout regimen every morning, something he started after a heart
attack about five years ago, and Mr. Jarrett made sure the daily schedule could
accommodate him. He was never required for anything before eleven o’clock
.
”

“He’s the head of the legal
section for the company, right?”

“He’s our general counsel, yes.
He's in charge of our legal department, which oversees all litigation,
contracts, and dispute management as well as our patents, intellectual
property, and everything else.”

“So let me get this straight, you
can’t corroborate Raskin’s story that he was,” Karen glanced down at her notes,
“at the Rollins Total Fitness Club between six and seven this morning, as he
says?”

“No, but they’re an exclusive club,
and they take security seriously. People don’t walk in off the street. I expect
you’ll be able to verify that he was there this morning.”

Hank stirred. “Let’s talk about
security for a moment.” He glanced at his notes. “The company that handles
everything for Jarrett Corporation, CD Security, is run by Craig Drussler. I’m
curious first of all about the arrangements Jarrett had for his own personal
security. What can you tell us about that?”

Kelly leaned back and sighed. “Oh,
that was an ongoing bone of contention. It was something we all argued with Mr.
Jarrett about at one time or another, I can tell you that.”

She glanced at Karen. “Mr. Jarrett
liked to play games with them, give them the slip, or just order them off. The
contract calls for constant, unbroken surveillance of Mr. Jarrett, and we tried
many times to convince him of the wisdom of that arrangement, but in vain. Mr.
Jarrett valued his privacy, and I’m afraid he thought he was invulnerable. He
knew a few people who’d been kidnap victims, but he always said they were in
situations they shouldn’t have been in, to begin with, and should have known
better.”

“What kind of a guy is Craig
Drussler?”

Kelly thought for a moment. “He’s
a younger man, has a family. Owns an expensive house, his children attend a
private school, all of which became possible when Mr. Jarrett bought out his
company and installed him here in Jarrett Tower.”

“What was his attitude toward
Jarrett? I’m thinking in particular about Jarrett’s tendency to screw around
with his operations.”

“He was frustrated, I suppose.”

“Ms. Kelly. Peggy.” Karen stood up
and walked around to Kelly’s side of the table. She eased down onto the corner,
leaned on her left fist, and put her right hand into the pocket of her
trousers, brushing aside the edge of her jacket as she did so. The movement
revealed the gold badge clipped to her belt and the holstered SIG Sauer P226 on
her hip.

“The lieutenant and I have been in
this business for a long time. We’re not a couple of rookie dingbats digging
for shit just for the fun of it. You’re obviously a sharp woman with a lot on
the ball. You’ve got the moxie to wear the one color redheads should never
wear, and you’re making it work. You’ve got a lot of juice around here, and it
shows. You’ve got an opinion on this Drussler guy. The lieutenant and I would
love to hear it.”

Hank watched with interest as Kelly
stared into Karen’s cold blue eyes and saw the hardness there. The two women
maintained eye contact for a long moment before Hank saw the lines at the
corners of Kelly’s eyes deepen in amusement. He’d watched enough faces over the
years to know the woman had made a decision to like Karen. Because it was not
something that happened every day, it told him something interesting about
Peggy Kelly.

“It could take a while,” she said.

“We’d be happy with the
Reader’s
Digest
version for now.”

“All right.” Kelly sat back. “Mr.
Jarrett and I often had this kind of conversation. He valued my take on the
people he dealt with.”

Karen slid off the corner of the
table. “So, go.”

“Craig Drussler’s a former sheriff
but he only served one term. When he lost the next election he formed his own company,
CD Security, specializing in executive protection. He worked the connections
he’d made in office and started getting contracts. We offered him a subcontract
to do a short-term assignment for us, and liked what he did. We gave him more
work, and eventually he came to the attention of Mr. Jarrett himself. He and
Emory took Craig to lunch and made him an extremely lucrative offer to buy out
his company and set him up as the sole provider of all our security solutions,
world-wide. Needless to say, Craig jumped at the opportunity. I guess it didn’t
occur to him until it was too late that it meant when Mr. Jarrett wanted to
override his procedures, he had no choice but to sit there and take it.”

“So he played Drussler like a fish,”
Karen said, sitting down.

“Pretty much.”

“And Drussler was too interested
in climbing the ladder to figure it out until it was too late.”

“I suppose you could say that.”

“And it pissed him off afterwards?
Made him resentful?”

“No. What you need to understand
is that Craig’s a very decent person underneath it all. It’s true in hindsight
he clearly regretted his decision to sell his company to Mr. Jarrett, but it
made him very, very comfortable financially, and eventually he seemed to come
to terms with the compromise. His girls attend the best private school in the
city, and I’ve seen pictures of his condo in the Bahamas. It’s beautiful. He’s
very devoted to his family, he’s faithful to his wife—we checked—and he’d do
anything for his friends. He’s a reasonably nice guy who’s reached his ceiling.
Was he resentful that Mr. Jarrett made a shambles of his protection protocols?
No. Was he frustrated? Oh, yes. I spent twenty minutes with him this morning,
Detective, after we heard the news. He’s devastated. He was in tears,
literally. He knows his reputation’s been destroyed, and he’s taking it very
personally. He was loyal to Mr. Jarrett the way we all were.”

“Okay.” Karen leaned back in her
chair, watching Kelly. “Tell us about Walter Parris. What does he do around
here?”

“Walter’s the chief financial
officer for the corporation, which means he’s responsible to the board for all
financial and accounting matters.”

“He’s the numbers guy. The money
guy.”

“Yes. He controls cash flow, he
monitors our financial performance, manages the budget, works with our bankers
and other investors, all that sort of thing.”

“Makes him a pretty important guy
around here.”

“Very. Especially now, since he’s
going to be interim president and CEO.”

“There’s that. How’d he take the
news that Jarrett was stepping down and his daughter was taking over?”

“For the first few days none of us
took it very well, but Walter adjusted very quickly. He’s a key figure in all
this because he decides what Mr. Jarrett’s holdings are actually worth and what
Diane would have to pay in order to acquire them. Both sides questioned his
numbers very vigorously, but that’s par for the course. He must have had a few
personal talks with Mr. Jarrett because Walter never questioned Mr. Jarrett’s
decision to retire.”

“Bottom line, do you think he had
anything to do with his boss’s murder?”

“No. Not in a million years.”

“What do you know about his son?”

“Brett?” Kelly’s expression
softened. “Oh, dear. Such a handful for Walter and Lisa. A very confused young
man.”

“Ever seen him worked up, out of
control, or violent?”

Kelly shook her head. “Walter
doesn’t talk about it, but I understand it’s schizophrenia. Mr. Jarrett
preferred that we give Walter some space in that regard. I’m not really
qualified to talk about it. There was an incident at a Christmas party one
time, though, when he thought one of our divisional heads was Richard Holland.
He got very upset about it, I remember, and accused the poor man of stalking
him. Walter was mortified.”

Karen leaned casually on an elbow.
“Tell me about Holland.”

“A rapid riser. Mr. Jarrett had a
lot of time for him.”

“What does he do around here?”

“He’s vice-president of corporate
and regulatory affairs, which handles government liaison in the United States
and all other countries where we do business. So, current and proposed
regulations for pharmaceuticals, our participation in emergency preparedness,
international approval processes, things like that.”

“Sounds important.”

“He’s built an effective network
in a very short time.”

Karen looked at her. “You don’t
sound particularly enamored of our Mr. Holland.”

“I’m not.”

“Because….”

Kelly moved back from the table
and swiveled her chair to face Karen. “Let me put it to you this way. I told
you Craig is basically a decent man underneath his ambition and his love of
money. I can’t say the same thing about Richard Holland, unfortunately.”

“Oh?”

“His late father worked for Mr.
Jarrett in the early days. Before my time, of course, but I know that Mr.
Jarrett kept in touch with the widow and her son. After graduation, Richard
showed up here, and Mr. Jarrett found a job for him.”

“What was that all about?”

“I don’t know. I asked the same
question. Mr. Jarrett said I didn't need to worry about it, so I took the
hint.”

“You think there was something
hinky in their relationship?”

“I think Mr. Jarrett probably felt
bad about Gerald Holland’s passing and likely made a promise to look after the
boy’s welfare. I also think Richard has taken advantage of Mr. Jarrett’s
generosity to an extreme.”

“You don’t think he deserves to be
a VP around here?”

“He’s clever, but I think he’s
over-achieving at this point.”

Karen studied her for a moment
before nodding. “All right.” She glanced at Hank. “We’ll probably want to talk
to him sooner, as opposed to later. Is he here right now? At the press
conference?”

Kelly shook her head. “He had a
meeting with several important contacts this afternoon at the Woodfern Golf and
Country Club.” She glanced at her watch. “Mr. Parris told him to keep the
meeting, rather than reschedule it. He’s likely still there. Would you like me
to call and tell him to wait there for you?”

“No thanks,” Hank said, “that
won’t be necessary. If you could give us his cell number, we’ll call him
ourselves.”

Kelly recited the number from
memory. Hank wrote it down.

“Now, as for that timeline Mr.
Byrne mentioned,” he went on, “we’ll need you to put together everything you
have from his schedule, everyone he met, plus everyone you’re aware of that he
had contact with who wasn’t on the schedule. Go back a week for starters. We need
to get a sense of his routine to see if there were any deviations from it that
need explaining.”

“Understood. I’ll have it for you
right away.”

“Thanks very much for your time,
Ms. Kelly. We may have some other questions for you later.”

When she didn’t respond, Hank
looked up from his notebook. Kelly’s face was turned away from them. Tears were
streaming down her cheeks.

7

They left through a rear entrance
at the bottom of the emergency staircase to avoid the backpack journalists
hanging around the front of the building. A short alley took them into a small parking
lot behind Jarrett Tower. The parking lot was set off by a low cement wall
topped with black tube railing. The parking spaces were filled with vehicles.
Horvath was waiting for them, sitting on the railing, the heels of his wingtip
brogues hooked for balance under the lower tube. When he raised the cigarette
to his mouth, Hank saw his hand tremble slightly.

“I thought you quit,” Karen said,
putting her boot up on the lower railing beside him.

Horvath blew smoke toward the tiny
patch of blue sky visible between the towers. “So did I.”

“You’re going to get your ass
dirty on that railing.”

Horvath stared at his cigarette.

“What did Drussler have to say?”
Hank asked.

“He’s pretty shook up,” replied
Horvath. He figures this’ll finish him in the business.”

“Good guess,” Karen said.

“A cousin of mine works in
executive protection.” Horvath looked at her. “He tried to get me to come in
with him when I graduated, but I was stuck on being a cop, so I didn’t. He
likes to talk to me about the work whenever we see each other, family
gatherings, funerals, you know. He doesn’t have a lot of people he can talk to,
I guess, so I’m it. And I’m a good listener. At least that’s what my girlfriend
says. Anyway, I’ve actually picked up a fair bit about the business. Know what
the most important commandment is?”

He tossed the cigarette aside and
hopped down from the railing. “Protect the client. Drussler’s right: he’s
finished. He let the client poke holes in his protection and didn’t properly cover
the risks. He’s screwed.”

“What happened this morning?” Hank
asked.

“Same thing as every morning for
the last month and a half since Jarrett started using the bike path. In the
winter he apparently stayed indoors in his private gym, but once the weather
got better he started going out. They had an ongoing fight about it. At first,
Drussler had someone jog along with him, but that lasted only a couple of days
before Jarrett raised the roof. Then Drussler had the guy tag along in a car,
but Jarrett didn’t like that either and it wasn’t really workable anyway since
the path winds in and out of the trees and there wasn’t one hundred percent
line of sight on the client at all times. Then Drussler tried clandestine
protection, but it was like Jarrett had radar or something. He kept spotting
them and busting their ass. He obviously enjoyed playing games with it.”

“Sounds like a nightmare client,”
Hank said.

Horvath nodded. “Thought he was
Superman.”

“Why waste the money?” Karen frowned.
“Why bother with security at all if you’re just going to fuck around with it
and leave yourself open?”

“Drussler’s company provides the
full range for Jarrett Corporation. They secure this building and their other
properties around the world, they run background checks on employees, they
supply the pilots and crew for their executive jets and the guards that protect
Jarrett’s home and look after the other senior executives when they travel, the
whole nine yards. It’s a huge contract, and protecting the Jarretts themselves is
just a small part of it.”

“So I take it they’d backed off on
Jarrett’s morning routine,” Hank said.

Horvath shrugged. “They decided to
live with a half-hour window every morning. He left the grounds and went for
his bike ride, they picked him up when he came back, then stayed with him for
the rest of the day. Jarrett kept telling Drussler he wanted at least that much
privacy in his life.”

“No way you back off on that,”
Karen muttered.

Horvath looked at her. “Drussler
showed me a purchase order he’d signed off on yesterday morning. It was still
on his desk. They were going to set up wireless video surveillance all along
the bike path, in the trees and whatever, and have the car trawl along just out
of Jarrett’s sight. It was their next best shot.”

“Too late,” Karen said,
unimpressed. “Somebody else got their shot in first.”

“Where was Drussler this morning?”
Hank asked.

“At home, having breakfast with
his family.”

“I’d like you to go back and write
your report on King Street,” Hank said. “Let’s wash our hands of it so you can
work this case full time with Karen.” He turned to her. “You and I are going to
talk to Richard Holland.”

“Where’s Peralta?” Karen asked.
“Still at the crime scene? How come Jarvis is poking his nose in?”

“Keep it simple,” Hank said to
Horvath. “Understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What the hell am I missing here?”
Karen complained.

“Where are you parked?” Hank asked
her, a little sharply. “Let’s get moving.”