Chapter Twenty
Gabriela rolled her carry-on suitcase into her apartment and went straight to her laundry area. Rafer was two steps behind her.
“I’ll get the laundry started, and you can go to the deli on the corner and get dinner,” Gabriela said. “Something healthy. Not pizza. Not hot dogs. Not nachos. They usually have good boxed salads.”
An hour later, Gabriela had changed into gray sweats, and she was at her desk with a glass of wine and a chicken Caesar salad. Much easier flying east to west, she thought. The time change wasn’t as disruptive.
Multiple Searl and Junkett documents from Marcella were displayed on Gabriela’s oversized computer monitor. Profit-and-loss statements. Profiles of members of the board and the new acting president of the bank. Plus, a list of mega-money accounts.
Gabriela was halfway through the file, concentrating on the human components first, saving the financial details for last. She thought the new acting bank president looked like another nincompoop.
Completely unqualified. Members of the board were standard fare.
Wealthy retired lawyers and finance officers, serving on other boards and charitable organizations.
Harry Bench was no exception. His only distinguishing feature was his age.
He was thirty years younger than all other board members.
She scrolled to Marcella’s bank synopsis.
Searl and Junkett was a private bank originally owned by Beckett Searl and Mortimer Junkett.
Six years ago, the two men had a falling-out and Mortimer Junkett bought Searl’s shares.
Searl spent his money on a hundred-and-fifty-foot yacht, a basketball team, and a new wife.
He owned a town house on the Upper East Side of Manhattan and a mansion in Selpan, Florida.
He also started his own private bank, Beckett Searl Investment.
Mortimer Junkett was allowed to keep the name Searl and Junkett.
Gabriela ran a search on Beckett Searl Investment. It was small but respectable. Similar to Searl and Junkett when it came to high-profile investors but not nearly as large. No mention of it ever insuring the Rosetta Stone.
It was almost midnight when Gabriela shut her computer down.
She’d gone through the entire file she’d received from Marcella and found nothing that would resemble a lead.
She stood and stretched and looked into the living room area at Rafer.
He’d fallen asleep on the couch. She draped a cashmere throw over him, turned the television off, and went to bed.
Gabriela’s first thought when she opened her eyes was that she had to have missed something in Marcella’s information dump.
The sun was just thinking of creeping above the horizon, so she lay in bed for an hour going over everything she’d read the night before.
She closed her eyes and willed her synapses to make some connections.
“Come on, brain,” she said. “Throw me a bone. Anything. There has to be something. Where does Harry Bench fit into this?” Her brain didn’t answer, so she switched the bedside light on, got out of bed, and got dressed in Vuori leggings, a tank top, and a hoodie.
She crossed to the kitchen and pressed the go button on the built-in, state-of-the-art Miele coffee machine.
Rafer rolled over and groaned. “Really?” he said. “Coffee? You’re grinding coffee beans? What time is it? It’s still dark out.”
“It’s not dark out,” Gabriela said. “The sun just came up.”
“It feels like it should be dark out.” He stood and shuffled over to Gabriela. “Is that my coffee?”
Gabriela gave him the mug of coffee and brewed another for herself. “I read through all of Marcella’s notes last night, and I couldn’t find a Harry Bench connection to Fooze or Rocky Mausud.”
“Maybe there isn’t any,” Rafer said. “Why are you fixated on Harry Bench?”
“I don’t like him.”
“That’s not exactly hard-core evidence of grand theft.”
“I also couldn’t find a reason for the elaborate heist.”
“Someone wanted all that stuff,” Rafer said.
Gabriela shook her head. “I think that’s just a nice by-product. They only stole things that Harley insured. He was hired for that sole purpose. This is about the bank.”
Rafer opened the refrigerator door and stared inside. “There’s nothing to eat in here. Just olives.”
“There are protein bars in the cupboard.”
Gabriela took her coffee to her desk and opened her computer. Rafer moved behind her and handed her a protein bar.
“What are we looking at here?” he asked, squinting at her computer screen. “What’s Beckett Searl Investment? I thought the bank was called Searl and Junkett.”
“Six years ago, Junkett bought Searl out. Searl spent his money on real estate, a boat, a basketball team, and a new wife, and opened his own private bank. Beckett Searl Investment.”
“So, this is simple,” Rafer said. “Now he wants to ruin Junkett and take over his bank.”
“I had the same thought,” Gabriela said, “but I can’t find anything to back it up.”
“How long has Harry Bench been on the Searl and Junkett board?”
“Five years. The timing is good, but Marcella didn’t find a connection between Searl and Bench.”
“That doesn’t mean one doesn’t exist,” Rafer said.
Gabriela sipped her coffee. “I’m aware.”
“What about the new Mrs. Searl? What’s her story?”
“She’s the third Mrs. Searl. She was a receptionist for the real estate company that sold Searl his Florida mansion.”
“Does she have any connection to Harry Bench?”
“There wasn’t anything in Marcella’s report.”
“What’s in the packet?” Rafer asked.
Gabriela took the manila envelope off her desk and opened it. “Supporting material from Marcella. Magazine articles, screenshots of online photos, odds and ends. I was too tired to go through it all last night.”
She dumped the contents of the envelope onto her desk and the first thing that caught her eye was a formal photo of a Harvard lacrosse team.
Players’ names were included with the photo, and Marcella had marked three names with yellow highlighter.
Harry Bench, Rocky Mausud, and Theodore Searl. She’d added a question mark by Searl.
“Bingo,” Rafer said.
Gabriela typed Theodore Searl into one of her search programs and smiled when the information flashed onto her screen.
“Theodore Searl is Beckett Searl’s son. He majored in economics at Harvard.
Took a couple gap years to see the world before landing a job as a mate on a tugboat on the Hudson.
That lasted a year. He got busted for smoking weed and selling coke.
Got a slap on the wrist and went to work for Daddy.
Now he’s chairman of the board for Beckett Searl Investment.
He’s also active in fundraising for the Metropolitan Museum. ”
“I guess he cleaned up,” Rafer said.
“Maybe,” Gabriela said. “He has an apartment in Chelsea and a house in Florida. Not currently married. No kids but there’s a picture of him with his dog.”
“What kind of dog?” Rafer asked.
“German shepherd, named Sweety. Looks like he’d eat you for lunch. Both of the Searl men are currently in residence in Florida.” Gabriela closed her laptop. “I’m going for a run, and then I’m going to the gym. I need to think.”
Gabriela left the gym, walked one block, and entered the building that housed her one-room, fifth-floor office.
Marcella had already texted her that she had a list of phone calls to return, plus several job offers to consider.
She was happy to hear that there were job offers.
Saving Harley Patch wasn’t helping her bottom line.
She had money going out with no money coming in.
She exited the elevator, walked the short hallway, and smiled at the gold stenciled name on her office door: G. R. McDuck. It was an homage to her comic book hero, Scrooge McDuck. He was tougher than the toughies and sharper than the sharpies.
Marcella looked up from her computer when Gabriela walked in. “Welcome back.”
Marcella Lott was five years older and an inch shorter than Gabriela.
Her skin was freckled, and her hair was red and curly.
She was Gabriela’s personal assistant, office manager, sometime chauffeur, loyal friend, and sole employee…
if you didn’t count the accountant and once-a-week housekeeping service.
“Let’s start with the phone calls,” Gabriela said.
Marcella handed her a printed list. “You have a dentist appointment next week. Your cleaning service said you had ants in your kitchen, so I put some ant buttons around. Gavin Hochmeister wants to take you to dinner. Your mother called and told me to remind you that your aunt Mary Beth’s seventy-fifth birthday is next Tuesday. ”
“Cancel my dentist appointment. Tell Gavin Hochmeister I’ll get back to him. Send a card and flowers to Mary Beth and remind me to call her next Tuesday.”
“Will you really get back to Gavin Hochmeister?”
“No.”
“Harry Bench called first thing this morning. He’s the last name on the list I just gave you. I told him you weren’t available.”
Gabriela had expected to hear from Harry Bench, she just didn’t think it would be this soon. She went to her desk and called Bench.
“It’s nice to know that you’re back in New York,” Bench said. “I didn’t get to say goodbye when we met for breakfast.”
“I had a busy schedule,” Gabriela said.
“I thought we might continue our discussion over lunch.”
“Would lunch include your security detail?”
“Sorry about that misstep in London. They were told to wait outside. Marko is Serbian and sometimes has a language problem.”
“No harm, no foul, but I’m going to have to pass on lunch,” Gabriela said.
“The bank wants this problem solved. Your accomplice has disappeared, so we’re holding you accountable. I would prefer to keep this a private matter, but I’ll be forced to go to the police if you don’t cooperate.”
“Are you prepared to make me an offer?”
“Yes.”
“Lunch isn’t possible, but I could pencil you in for dinner.”