Chapter Fifteen #2
“I’ll dig, but it won’t be quick. At least we have a name, we have a face.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s the name or face, but we’ve got something.” And maybe Roarke could find more. “Odds are she’s a professional thief—it’s a very neat fit—and this task force wouldn’t look at her unless she fit.”
She passed Garrett Beyer’s office building in a hunt for parking. Two blocks later, she stopped Peabody’s heart by hitting vertical, zooming across the street, and dropping into a slot with very few inches to spare.
“I’m okay, I’m okay. Just need to reboot my entire system.”
“Do it while we walk. I want this tied up, then we push on the blonde, whether it’s this Delaney or somebody else.”
She got out, headed for the crosswalk.
“But you don’t think it’s somebody else.”
“I think it’s a real neat fit. But. Data says she’s thirty—which she could have adjusted. But if that’s correct, she’d be even younger than the twenty the fourth wife estimated. Not impossible, either, when you figure she’d glammed herself up for this party she crashed.”
“She’s got a really nice place in the Historic District. Two vehicles, and her income’s one-point-six a year. That’s pretty smooth for a security consultant who only works by appointment. I can’t find, yet, a client list.”
“She can explain that by claiming client privacy. She probably does some security work. Gotta cover the bases. Roarke can dig deeper into the finances.”
They moved with the flood of pedestrians at the intersection, kept going. Eve checked the time.
“Yancy’s probably working with the Barristers now. I’d tag him, but why interrupt? They’ve shut down the ’links either for that or just to avoid the media.”
“I could maybe reach the sister, if she’s still at work.”
“We’ll let it ride.”
They turned into the building with its big glass doors and important lobby. All dignity, Eve thought.
“The law firm has five fricking floors. Beyer’s on fifty.”
They waited at the silver doors for the bank of elevators that served twenty-five to fifty.
“Top floor’s always the most important.”
Eve just rolled her shoulders. “Why is that? Then you’ve got to ride up, ride down. Important should be easier. Like main level.”
“It’s all about the view.”
They stepped in with half a dozen others who called out half a dozen stops.
Eve decided that made her case.
Business suits rather than uniforms, but it worked just as frustratingly as at Central. People on, people off. Stop and go.
At fifty, they stepped out into the plush and dignified lobby area of Beyer, Lance, and Goldberg, crossed the black tiles to the reception desk and the woman who manned it.
She wore her ruby-red hair in a razor-sharp wedge around an angular face.
“Lieutenant Dallas and Detective Peabody to see Garrett Beyer.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll inform Mr. Beyer’s office. Please have a seat.”
She didn’t want a seat, but to get this done. Cross it off, move on.
A couple sat in a pair of cream-colored chairs, holding hands, making moon eyes at each other. She pegged them as easily seventy-five. Apparently moon eyes had no age limit.
A single male, mid-twenties, dressed like a street rat until you noticed his designer boots and wrist unit, sat in another area, looking bored as he scrolled on his ’link.
She pegged him as a trust fund baby here to push for an advance.
A woman came out of a set of doors—fiftyish, shining brown hair swept in a complicated twist, black suit, black heels, polite smile.
“Lieutenant, Detective. I’m Opal Richmond, Mr. Beyer’s admin. I’ll take you back to his office.”
They went through, past office doors—closed—a break room that looked like an upscale lounge, what she assumed was a law library, and to the double doors of the corner office.
Opal knocked, then opened the right door. “Lieutenant Dallas and Detective Peabody.”
“Come in, come in.” Beyer rose from his massive desk in front of a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that made Eve’s stomach want to pitch.
He gestured them toward a seating area at least ten feet from that glass wall.
He offered a firm handshake. “So nice to see you again, Lieutenant, and to meet you, Detective. We’ll have coffee, Opal, and some of those sugar cookies if you don’t tell my better half.”
“I’m the soul of discretion.”
“Milton’s on a health kick, and he’s dragged me along.”
He sat comfortably, a man lean in his pin-striped suit, his golden brown face pleasant. His hair had a waving white streak through the black on the left side.
“So,” he began, “Henry had a secret vault.”
“A secret from you?”
“Yes, until a few days ago when Nathan contacted me. I’m very sorry about what happened to him. I liked him very much, and his family. I want to say, so I will, he was not his father’s son in many ways.”
“In what ways?”
“We’re all flawed, aren’t we? But one of Henry’s flaws was women. He simply couldn’t be without a variety of women. Nathan and Aileen were devoted to each other. I can say that professionally and personally. As far as the vault?”
He paused as Opal brought in a tray.
“Thank you. You’ll hold everything, won’t you?”
“Yes, of course.”
She poured the coffee, then went out, closed the door behind her.
“The vault,” Beyer continued. “Yes, I was stunned to learn about it, but when I thought it through, it didn’t shock me.
Henry needed to possess. He worked hard, and as far as I can tell you was scrupulously honest in his business dealings.
Zip was his pride and joy. Nathan simply didn’t have the same needs. ”
“When he told you about the vault?”
“It took him some time to tell it all. He was upset, worried. I got no more than bits and pieces at first. He wanted to protect his father’s legacy, his own family, the business, so he wanted to proceed carefully. His hope was to return everything anonymously. It’s not a simple process.”
“No, it wouldn’t be.”
“I was working on it. We’d hoped to have the process firmly in place in another week or so. Now, of course, all of that’s moot. I can only assure you the family had no intention of keeping any of it. It made him sad. Nathan. It made him sad to know his father had done this.”
“And his wife, his sister, his daughters were fully on board with this process?”
“No one objected. In fact, Aileen had done considerable research on the items, where they’d been taken, and into the process of return. She’s very good at her work.”
“Who benefits most from Nathan Barrister’s death?”
“Aileen. The house will go to her now. Nathan inherited sixty percent of the company in his father’s will.
Aileen will inherit eighty percent of Nathan’s share.
His daughters will each get ten percent.
The girls already have ten percent through their grandfather’s will, so they’ll have twenty now. Joy has twenty, through her father.”
“So Aileen now has the largest slice of the pie.”
“Correct.”
“Why such a disparity between his children for Henry?”
“He didn’t see it that way. He intended for Nathan to run the business, and to take over Barrister House. He left Joy very well provided for. Beyond the interest in the company, there’s real estate, financial accounts, jewelry, art.”
“From what I’ve learned, Aileen Carville has no interest in running Zip.”
“No, I believe that will fall to Joy and the girls. Chloe’s aimed there since childhood. She’s worked there, she’s studying to step into her father’s shoes.” He paused to sample one of the cookies. “I believe Anya intends to join Zip’s legal team when the time comes.”
He held out the tray of cookies. “Please, take one. Then I can tell myself I took one to be polite.”
When they both took one, he sat back with his.
“Surely you don’t suspect Nathan’s family in his death.”
“There was a break-in, but we have to close off all the avenues. Do you know the name Jenna Lynn Delaney?”
He pursed his lips, then slowly shook his head. “It’s not familiar.”
“She may have been involved with Henry Barrister.”
“Ah well. I certainly didn’t know all the names of Henry’s women, but I don’t recall that name.”
“Peabody.”
“If you’d look at this.” Peabody offered her PPC. “Do you recognize her?”
He looked, and Eve knew he looked carefully.
“She’s his type, I’d say—any lovely young woman was.
But I don’t recognize her. Milton and I did, on occasion, attend dinner parties, cocktail parties at Barrister House during Henry’s reign.
He loved entertaining up until a few months before his death.
But she doesn’t pop out for me. I’m sorry. ”
“Not at all. What about the staff? Your opinion.”
“Henry trusted them implicitly, as did Nathan and the family. I never saw any reason to question that trust. In fact, I quite like them. I’ll add Henry was generous in his will to his staff at Barrister House.
A year’s salary for every year of their employment, plus certain items he felt showed his affection. ”
“And Nathan?”
“Adjusted his will when he decided they’d move into Barrister House, began the same. A year’s salary for every year of employment under him. You could say, from their point of view, the longer he lived, the more they’d benefit.”
“You could. Henry left Nathan the house, and its contents. Those would include the vault. Why didn’t he tell Nathan?”
“My opinion, again?” He let out a sigh, smiled just a little.
“Henry simply refused to believe he could die. And while he lived, what was in the vault was his. Only his. While I believe he loved his children, in his way, he also knew them. He would have known Nathan would never go along with what was in that vault.”
He paused again. “I have a list of the contents, and I’ve spoken with Aileen, so I know what was taken.
I also believe Henry would never have wanted his son to die for them.
I’m more sorry than I can say that it came to that.
Anything I or this office can do to help you find who’s responsible, consider it done. ”
“Did anyone in this office besides you know about the vault?”
“No, not even Opal. No, not my partners, not my husband, not our children. Though Nathan and I became friends, he came to me as a client. And one in distress. I only wish he’d come to me sooner, and I had been able to act more quickly.”
“I appreciate the time, the information, and the discretion.”
“Whatever we can do.” He rose as Eve and Peabody did, extended his hand again.
Eve kept silent as they were escorted out, as they rode down to the lobby level.
“He’s telling it straight.”
“I agree with that. He does that stuff for you guys, too, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t guess he’d take on small potatoes like McNab and me. We have stuff now. I mean, not like buckets of it. But stuff, and we should take care of all of that. I liked how he was focused and real, you know?”
“Ask Roarke to set it up.” Eve pushed through the glass doors. “Nobody says no to Roarke.”
“He wouldn’t mind?”
“Why would he mind?”
“Then I’ll talk to McNab. I’ll start digging deeper on Delaney when we get back to Central.”
Eve checked the time. “Do that. I’m going to drop you off there, work some of this from home. Pull Roarke in as soon as I can. She’s going to be part of this. I want to—”
She broke off when she felt the punch in the back. If he hadn’t brushed past her, hadn’t glanced back, then started to run, she might’ve put it down to a street bump, even a quick pickpocket attempt.
But as he ran, she saw him retract the switchblade in his right hand.
“Son of a bitch. Record on!”
She took off after him.
“Male, mid-twenties, brown hair,” she shouted back to Peabody. “Five-ten, one-seventy. He’s got a blade, and he just tried to stab me with it.”
“Holy shit!”
“Call it in, call it in!”
She had to dodge a group of four who decided they owned the sidewalk, then the table and its contents from a pop-up vendor the man she pursued heaved over.
She could hear people scream as he shoved or knocked them out of his way, and into hers.
But she started gaining, dodging cars through the intersection as he did.
“Police!” she shouted, and jumped over a kid who’d taken a spill on his airboard.
By the middle of the next block she was ten feet back and reaching for her weapon.
He veered for the street in the middle of the block. He looked back, and she could see he was winded. And looking back, he tripped, lost his footing. Arms pinwheeling, he fell into the street.
The oncoming Rapid Cab hit the brakes, but not soon enough.
More screams now as the wheels ran right over him.
“Police! Stay back, stay back!”
As she rushed over, the cabbie leaped out of the cab. “He came outta nowhere. I swear to God!”
“Call for medicals. Stay by your cab. Call for medical assistance.”
“I tried to stop, I tried. Oh my God. Is he dead?”
She got down, couldn’t find a pulse. And though she could see it wouldn’t matter, started CPR.
“Dallas!”
“Control the crowd, call it in. I want medicals, I want uniforms. Talk to the cabbie.”
She finally sat back on her heels beside the mangled mess. Swiped some of the blood on her hands onto her pants. “Shit. Shit. He’s gone.
“Peabody, get a field kit from the car as soon as we have crowd control.”
“Beat droids two minutes out, ambulance one.”
“He needs the morgue.”
“Did he cut you? Dallas, I can’t tell.”
She shook her head. “No.”
She stayed where she was, listening to the approaching sirens.
Not a street bump, not a street thief. He hadn’t wanted her wallet, but her life.