Chapter Nine #2
“She took the summer home—now her main residence—in the divorce, along with a villa in Tuscany and a financial payment of four billion. No remarriages or official cohabs. She now has her own practice. Environmental law, and the kicker? She’s repped half a dozen clients who’ve sued Banner-Wyst for violations thereof. ”
Eve sat back. “I find that a really nice kicker.”
“Thought you might. Additional kick? She won five out of six, and settled out of court on the sixth.”
“Even better. I believe Arleen and I need to have a conversation. Good quick work, both of you. Appreciated.”
“Tap us in if you need anything else. We’re still loose.”
“As long as you are, take some time, familiarize yourselves with the investigation.”
“On it. Let’s get some coffee, my young friend, and dive into that.”
“Sounds good, Pops,” Trueheart said, and made Baxter laugh as they walked out.
Eve got coffee of her own, then pulled up Arleen Norse’s contact.
A pretty young face popped on-screen. “Good afternoon. Norse Law Offices.”
“This is Lieutenant Dallas with the NYPSD. I’d like to speak with Arleen Norse.”
“Yes, ma’am. May I ask what this is in reference to?”
“I’m a police lieutenant, not a ma’am, and it’s in reference to Banner-Wyst and a couple of murders.”
“Yes, ma—Lieutenant. Please hold while I see if Ms. Norse is available.”
She went to holding blue, and gave Arleen Norse points for not adding mind-melting music. It took the lady in question less than a full minute to come on.
Eve decided she looked her age, but a well-tended and polished version with a sharp wedge of silver hair around an angular face.
“Lieutenant Dallas, Arleen Norse.”
“Thank you for taking the time to speak with me.”
“I’m making time. I heard about Larry Chu’s murder. There’s been another?”
“Ezra Dent.”
Arleen had hazel eyes that leaned into the green. Regret flickered into them. “I’m very sorry to hear that. Should I assume these murders are connected, and linked to Banner-Wyst?”
“We are pursuing that avenue.”
Arleen’s lips curved into a quick, hard smile. “I’ve read about you, Lieutenant, and though my life is no longer centered in the city, followed some of your cases. You didn’t contact me to pass the time.”
“No, ma’am, nor to waste it. You were married to Jacob Wyst.”
“Yes, I was, for two decades. Do you believe he’s involved?”
“The company he heads has had two of its key employees brutally murdered within a twelve-hour period. While we don’t, at this time, consider Mr. Wyst a suspect, he may very well be a target.”
Eve saw surprise, then quick calculation. “While there’s no love lost between me and Jacob, I hardly want to see the father of my children murdered. Am I a suspect?”
“Not at this time.”
Arleen let out a little laugh. “Comforting. I don’t know what I can tell you.
In the early days of our marriage, we might discuss his work, and mine, as couples do.
Though I’ll say neither of us had particular interest or expertise in the other’s.
Then there were children, and I prioritized them, with no regrets.
Then there was Calvin Banner, their friendship, the merger. ”
“And,” Eve prompted after a pause.
“Things changed. Jacob became more driven and at the same time, more secretive, at least with me.
He took the lead as far as the public face.
He was good at it, I admit, and the company thrived.
Advancements, profits, expansions of research and development.
Politics, lobbyists, and what some, I among them, consider land grabs.
“I had my own interests, my own priorities, and I regret much went by me. But enough stuck, and whenever I brought it up, had questions or comments, Jacob became irritated, angry, or simply went on another trip. Our marriage suffered for many reasons, and this was only one of them. We grew apart, and he found younger, more amenable companions. I was neither surprised nor brokenhearted by this, so I took what was important to me and started the next chapter of my life.”
“Which includes representing clients in suits against Banner-Wyst.”
“My interest in environmental law grew through the last years of the marriage—which caused some of the friction in it. I didn’t like the direction the company was taking.
Liked it less when my interest and instincts told me that the company took far too many shortcuts, greased too many palms, and took advantage of desperation and need.
All the while helping to ease that desperation, fill those needs.
I don’t believe in giving with one hand and taking with the other. ”
“What happened thirteen years ago?”
“Thirteen years?” Arleen’s brow creased with her frown. “In what context?”
“Both Chu and Dent received large payments at that time, and Chu was made director. While we’re still researching Dent, Chu received a quarter of a million bonus annually from that time until his death.”
“Is that so? I’ll need a minute or two to wind back through the years.
Jacob and I weren’t on the best of terms at that point.
We, essentially, lived apart while in the same house.
Ezra or Jack O’Brian, others from the company came to the house—staff would let me know.
They’d huddle in Jacob’s office. I remember, as it was the end of the marriage really.
We’ve been divorced for . . . yes, nearly twelve years now. ”
“Who else came to confer with Mr. Wyst at your home?”
“I can’t clearly remember. Ah, John Dearling a few times. Bioengineer. A clever and interesting man. He was injured on the job—a typhoon in, I think, Southeast Asia.”
“What were they working on?”
“That I can’t tell you. Jacob shared nothing with me at that point.”
“Was Chu one of the visitors?”
“Ah . . . No, not that I recall, until . . . Made director, you said, this is when he was made director. He was made director after Steven’s breakdown.”
“Steven.”
“Steven . . . Redwing. No, no, Redman—sorry, so long ago. But I remember, very clearly, he lost his pregnant wife and his little boy in a gas explosion, a fire. Their apartment building was destroyed. I think over two hundred people died, and Steven, I remember he had a breakdown, had to be hospitalized. Larry had been his right hand, and took over as director. That’s when I met him. ”
Eyes narrowed in thought, she nodded. “Yes, that’s when. Jacob actually asked me to host a dinner. A solemn affair, with Larry, his wife, Calvin, Ezra, and so on.
“I did that, even though I was making plans to divorce him.”
“Where’s Redman now?”
“I’m afraid I have no idea. If I recall correctly, he was catatonic, or nearly. I met him and his wife once or twice, before the accident. Holiday parties, I think. He was a bright young man.”
She paused, angled her head. “That may explain the large payments, as both Larry and Ezra needed to step up. I imagine losing Steve left a hole in whatever project or projects were under his hand.”
“It certainly could. You’ve been very helpful, Ms. Norse.”
“I hope I have. I have little respect for the company, and little for Jacob, actually none at all for Calvin. But Jacob is the father of my children, grandfather to theirs. I prefer he remain alive.”
“I’ll do my best there. Thank you.”
Family, Eve thought as she ended the call. Redman lost his family, tragically lost his family. Chu took his place, and worked with Dent.
“There’s the buzz, and it’s loud and it’s clear. Okay, Steve, where the hell are you?”
Before long, she found the answer.
Nowhere.
Like the pretty young thing with a big brain, he’d been a handsome young thing with one.
Son of a pediatric surgeon and an actual rocket scientist—still married after more than half a century and now living in Chicago.
A sibling, two years younger, still lived in New York, and—very useful—worked as a biotech engineer for Roarke.
She learned Redman had won major science fairs and awards in his youth, had stuck with New York for Columbia, graduated early and with highest honors.
Double major for him, too. Biotech and Climatology.
Recruited by Banner-Wyst right out of college, though he’d continued his education, getting his masters in both majors.
Married, had a kid, got his doctorate all before he hit thirty.
Made director.
Everything smooth and steady, Eve thought. All good.
Digging, she found he and his wife bought a house on the Lower West Side—good, kid-friendly neighborhood, good schools.
Then, before they moved in, boom.
She sat back a minute, digging back in her own memory. Because she remembered that boom. Yeah, yeah, she remembered. Fresh out of the Academy, in uniform.
Lower West again, the apartment building had been in the Lower West. So they’d bought a house in the same sector—sticking to their own basic neighborhood.
Straightening, she went back to the data.
Following the shock and loss, Redman lapsed into catatonia, unable to speak. There, but not there. Institutionalized, treated. Little to no improvement.
Then, six years ago, had simply poofed.
Missing persons report. Never found, presumed dead.
“But you’re not, are you, Steve?”
After printing out his old ID shot for her board, she pulled up the investigator’s report on the fire. And found Feeney’s name.
She grabbed her ’link, tagged him.
“I know you’re buried, but—”
“Not anymore. The boy and I struck gold. You need him?”
“No, you. Thirteen years ago, Lower West Side, gas explosion, building destroyed, two hundred plus dead, FDNY responded quickly, were able to get a handful of injured out. You were primary for the department with FDNY’s Susan Washington, arson investigator.”
Frowning, he nodded. “Yeah, hard to forget that one.”
“I remember it, too. I was in uniform, green as grass.”
“You were never that green. It plays into what you’ve got going?”
“Yeah, it’s going to. Since you’re clear, I’ll come up.”
“No, I’m coming down. I want to see the board. You’ve worked explosions, fires a time or two. You know what it does to people.”
“Yeah.”
“Get me coffee.”