Chapter 47
Seated in the luxury of Nelson Rupert’s limousine, still parked at the cemetery, Jane accepted an offer of water. The vehicle smelled like leather and new car smell—one of Jane’s favorite scents.
“You knew my grandson well, didn’t you?”
Matthew took after his father’s side of the family in appearance. Nelson Rupert was several inches shorter and had a smaller frame. His white hair gleamed, his mustache and goatee trimmed. His black suit fit him perfectly.
Despite being in his early eighties, the man looked a good decade or two younger. The intelligence in his gaze lent itself to a man clearly not in his dotage.
“Yes, I did know your grandson well. He was my boss for a year and a half. I considered him both a mentor and a friend.”
“A professional and hard worker. He was dedicated to his job.” The glint of sadness in the older man’s eyes looked real.
Jane didn’t know why she didn’t completely believe it.
“I’ll come to the point,” Nelson stated. “My grandson got involved with a conspiracy you know very well. The Collective. August Kaminski. The Rook. Yes, I know all the big names the Agency has been throwing around. I’m trying to learn why my grandson died.”
Jane remained quiet, paying strict attention to everything about Nelson Rupert.
The grief remained in his eyes, but an air of menace emerged, icy with warning. “Listen well, Agent Cannon. You seem like a promising young woman. You’ll go far in your career because you’re smart. You have good instincts.”
“Sir?”
“You know that wealth and power go hand in hand.”
She nodded. “As do wealth and corruption.”
He gave a thin smile. “True. Those who have power don’t want to lose it. They also want more and more, until it corrupts absolutely. The Collective, as I understand it, was created to help the greater good. And before you ask, I’m not a part of it. I was asked to join and declined.”
“Why?”
“Because I need neither more money nor more power. I choose to help with charities my daughter handpicks. My business helps the American economy by providing jobs and encouraging the development of academics and advancing technology. I want our country and its people to prosper. What need have I for a clandestine group of rich people trying to dominate industry? I’m all for shared wealth, not a monopoly. ”
“Which is easy to say when you have all that wealth. Let’s be honest, Mr. Rupert. If we were playing Monopoly, you’d already own everything while most of us do our best not to land on property tax, just happy to pass Go.”
Nelson chuckled. “True. But I mean it. I want those who abuse power to pay. My grandson felt the same, which is why he’s now dead.”
“Do you know who killed him?”
“I suspect the one who calls himself Rook. Casimir Bednarek.”
“You’re well informed.”
“Of course I am. I believe in our Constitution, in democracy. But there are too many who think we need to pander to the masses and make decisions to suit the popular vote, not the right vote.”
Jane felt whiplash from the contradicting points the man was making. But she kept quiet, letting him speak. She’d review it all in her mind again later.
“Do you understand?”
“You want me to believe you’re not part of the Collective, that you want the greater good to survive, but that you will determine the rules to help them reach that end.”
He nodded. “Exactly.”
“Even if it means the death of someone as earnest and patriotic as Matthew Scott,” she added baldly.
Nelson glared at her. “Watch your tone.”
“I’m just summarizing what you’ve already said.”
“Then you’re not listening.”
“I think I’m hearing you just fine.” Jane stared back, wondering what he’d do once she left.
Who he’d call. “Matthew Scott meant a great deal to those of us with aspirations to serve our country, as he did. I love what America stands for, Mr. Rupert. But sometimes I don’t agree with the politicians voting against our ideals. ”
His stern glare faded. “Then you do understand. We want the same things, Agent Cannon. To make life better for everyone.”
“But at what expense?” And who defined “better?”
He nodded. “You’re so much smarter than they give you credit for.”
“Who’s they?”
“Lionel Gambol for one. Did you know that man has more secrets to bury than even I have? And I admit I’ve earned and kept my money by not being the nicest guy in the room.”
“Your point?”
“They say aim; you ask, where should I shoot? I say, here’s the objective, now make it happen. Do you see the difference?”
Jane just stared at him. “Are you recruiting me?”
He chuckled. “Recruiting you for what, Agent Cannon? Or can I call you Jane?”
“Please.”
“Jane. Matthew spoke highly of you. I believe he was enamored. Belinda mentioned it. Said she hadn’t seen the boy that infatuated with a woman in some time. But you never used his attention to gain advantage. You do your job because that’s who you are.”
She didn’t know what to say to the odd turn in conversation.
“I know you two were working the Kaminski case together. I told Matthew to be careful. That a lot of powerful people would be upset if he tried to lump them into a crime syndicate.”
“You know August Kaminski is a criminal.”
“My dear, everyone with real money knows he’s not someone to cross.
But we tolerate him because he grants favors and makes things happen.
A bill to lower taxes to mega corporations.
A push to lobby for stricter gun control in one state with lesser control in another.
Pharmaceutical trial liberties. The list goes on.
You have no idea who you’re dealing with. ”
“So I’m being told again and again.” She leaned forward. “But Mr. Rupert, something you and your friends, those who like Kaminski and those who don’t, might want to keep in mind.”
“What’s that, Jane?”
“That I don’t think any of you know who you’re dealing with. Once I set my sights on a target, I don’t stop until I bag ‘em and tag ‘em.”
They considered each other, and the old man’s grin slowly grew into an all-out laugh.
Something Jane considered inappropriate for a grieving grandfather who’d just lost his grandson.
“Well said, Jane Cannon. I look forward to talking to you in the future.”
“If there’s nothing more, sir?”
He waved at the door. “Please.”
Before she could leave, the door opened, and she looked up at the large, muscular man holding it for her. “Agent Cannon,” he said in a deep voice.
She made note of him, seeing him return her scrutiny.
Sizing up a potential threat.
“Thanks for the water, Mr. Rupert,” Jane added before leaving him behind.
* * *
Nelson and his attendant watched her leave.
“An interesting woman,” Bishop said.
“Yes. Too bad she and my grandson didn’t work out. I like her attitude. Feisty.”
Bishop nodded. “Did you want to return to the funeral, sir?”
“No. Take me home. And make sure to tell August what transpired.”
Bishop hadn’t realized the old man knew who he really worked for, and it must have shown on his face because Nelson laughed.
“Please, son. I’ve been double-dealing since you were in diapers. Now drive me home.”
With a grudging smile, Bishop took Nelson back to his home and left him alive and in one piece. For now.
He wondered how it would all play out. As he drove away in his BMW and watched the gates of the Rupert estate close behind him, his thoughts remained on the resourceful FBI agent and what the different players in the game intended for her.
Which explained why he wasn’t paying attention to the van stopped by the side of the road or the four men kneeling in front of it with automatic rifles that suddenly opened fire.