Chapter 21
Wednesday morning, Jane called straight away to Lisa but had to wait since the analyst had been unexpectedly pulled aside by an SSA on a case that took priority.
Frustrated, Jane worked on another of her cases that needed updating. A subpoena and two more surveillance requests took her time.
She also put out a few subtle feelers about anything related to Lionel Gambol.
And came back with a big fat nothing.
No reports of a shooting in his neighborhood or any mention of his work tied to the FBI, let alone any other government agencies. He didn’t seem to exist.
Lionel was beyond scary. She liked that in a boss.
Not that he was in charge of her, not unless she accepted the offer to work on another of his task forces.
He once called himself FBI Adjacent. Ha. More like FBI-In-Charge without all the red tape and fancy titles. A ghost who could do as he pleased.
If only she had that power.
Like Uncle Chris, a shadow who could vanish in the blink of an eye. He’d disappeared while she’d gone on her run that morning, leaving only a scrap of paper with a helpful warning. Don’t get shot. See you soon.
Chris North, such an inspiration.
To her surprise, the morning continued to pass swiftly, including keeping her boss satisfied.
SSA Grimshaw’s brief meeting with Jane yielded grudging approval. “So, nothing on the home invasions?”
“Not yet. I’m scheduled to talk to our forensics analyst in an hour.” Fifty-eight minutes and counting. “That’s if she doesn’t get pulled aside again.”
“Good. With any luck, we’ll have something new. Anything is better than nothing.” Grimshaw sighed. “Okay, get out. I can see you squirming.”
Jane managed not to grin. “Thanks, boss.”
Grimshaw muttered under her breath as the telephone rang. She growled into the telephone, “Grimshaw. What can I do for you, Minton?” The woman straightened in her seat. “You got him? Where are you?”
At least it sounded like Greg had gotten a hit on his robberies.
Jane left and heard a ping on her phone as she returned to her desk.
Meet for lunch? Matthew sent.
She had a lot to share. Hope a late lunch is okay. Same coffee shop as last time. 14:00?
See you there.
Time took forever to pass by, but she finally went upstairs, resolving to stare Lisa down if she had to.
The woman was typing madly and didn’t look up when she said, “Quit looming. Just take a seat while I finish this. And be prepared to take notes. I found some weird stuff you’re going to want to look at.”
Excited at the prospect, Jane kept her mouth shut and dragged out her notebook and pen.
By the time Lisa stopped typing and muttering to herself, ten minutes had gone by.
Jane felt ready to explode.
Lisa studied her. “Wow. You are wound way too tight.”
“If you don’t tell me already, I’ll kidnap and torture your fake Birkin bag until it looks like a Walmart knockoff.”
Lisa chuckled and pulled up a file. “Okay, okay. We’ve got some inconsistencies, what looks to me like a pattern of withdrawals, and a name.”
“Seriously? Tell me.”
Lisa gave an evil laugh then turned completely serious. “See here?” She pointed to a spreadsheet, then another, showing Jane several amounts that seemed to repeat before they disappeared for several months.
“From the period of the last three years to just four months ago, the Duvalls made regular deposits that I can’t trace. They also made regular withdrawals and campaign contributions.”
“To whom?”
“Not who? Very good, Jane.” Lisa winked. “To a number of politicians with different political affiliations.” Lisa handed her a printed sheet listing several names. “I managed to get my hands on some of the Coatneys’ financials, and I found the same patterns. But theirs ended just a month ago.”
“Same contributions?”
“Not entirely, though a few names overlap.” Lisa pointed out the names highlighted on a different paper she handed Jane. “Keep it. I’m also emailing you the files. I haven’t gotten the Strands’ financials yet. That’s taking a while. But I’m pretty sure I’ll find a similar pattern.”
“Payoffs to politicians.”
“Yes, and in particular, to a certain lobbyist.” Lisa pointed to a new file she pulled up on her computer.
“Hold on. Stephen Harte?” The Harte name was one of the Collective. “Do you have anything listing him in particular?”
“Let me see.” Lisa ran a program that sped through several files and spat out a list of numbers and dates and names. “Whoa. Looks like your Stephen Harte is at the center of a lot of these payoffs. And look at these dates.”
Jane studied them while Lisa said, “I’m a CSPAN nerd, so sue me. But I recognize these last two dates as when congress met to pass a few important bills. One of which was an eco-friendly measure to stop emissions. The other new term limits for some elected officials.”
“Interesting.” And something Jane intended to look into straight away. “Great work.”
“I’m not done.” Lisa rolled her eyes. “Geesh. I could have just emailed you all that.”
“But then I’d have missed you in all your Birkin-inspired glory.”
“True.” Lisa grinned. “It’s the inconsistencies in the Duvalls’ data that concerned me. I made a few calls and found a hole in their bank’s security.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, it looks like a week before the Duvalls died, Jim went to his bank and put something in his safe deposit box. Then someone, not Jim, his siblings, or his wife, emptied the box. But all I can see of him is the top of his hat. His face is blurred like crazy.
“I found a thread I had to keep pulling, but don’t tell anyone. The forensic stuff keeps me busier than busy. But sometimes I like a good mystery, and I want to know what Jim put in his safe deposit box that someone stole.”
“A cold wallet, I think. The killer stole it, copied it, then burned it and left it at Dave Duvall’s house as a message.”
“A message?”
“Well, Dave Duvall, his sister, and his mother are now all dead, just like the rest of the Duvalls.”
Lisa cringed. “Oh.”
“Thanks for this. I mean it. I owe you.”
Lisa seemed to recover. “See that you pay up. Jenn is horrible about payback.”
“Tell me about it.”
Jane left to see a man about a bank deposit box.
But not before she stopped off at her desk and made a certain call to a certain hacker she knew.