Hypocrisy (26 page)

650K
OFC – C27-4150-6930
GCI Trust Ltd. 345-555-2100

“I think we just hit pay dirt,” Dupree said. “You call Captain Jensen and ask him to issue an APB on Hansen and to coordinate surveillance on her apartment. I think one patrolman at each end of the hallway, two in the underground garage, two watching the front entrance, and one in the lobby without a uniform. Tell the captain to distribute a photo of Hansen to security at JFK, LaGuardia, Newark, and Grand Central Station. He can use either the photo on her driver’s license or a still shot from when we interviewed her. I’ll call Ralph, the security guard, and alert him to expect several patrolmen.”

“No worries that Ralph might tip her off if he sees her?” T.J. said.

“I’ll have a little chat with him about the consequences of harboring a fugitive. Once the patrolmen get here, let’s get back to
the precinct. I want to recap everything we know to be certain we haven’t missed anything.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve got all the bases covered,” T.J. said.

“Just trying to put this investigation to rest so I can take a vacation.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

By the time Dupree and T.J. got back to the precinct, it was almost six p.m. The buzz of daytime activity had settled down, but as always, detective work was a twenty-four-hour a day job, so many of Dupree’s fellow detectives and support staff were still milling about.

“Before we lock ourselves in the conference room,” Dupree suggested, “let’s see if Brenda’s still here.” She held up Michael Adelman’s business card. “We can guess what 650K refers to, and if we call the phone number on the back of this card, I’d bet it’s for GCI Trust Ltd. The eleven digit number, no doubt, is a bank account number. But I’d also like to know what OFC and GCI stand for.

“Well, if anyone can figure it out, Brenda can,” T.J. said. “And if we’re lucky, she might even have the DNA results from Cassano’s blood and some info on Hansen’s cell phone records.”

As they neared Brenda’s cubicle, Dupree could see the top of Brenda’s head rocking from side to side. Brenda was wearing pink earbud headphones plugged into her iPhone. Quietly laughing, Dupree and T.J. stood there watching Brenda’s head weaving and bobbing while she hummed a tune Dupree didn’t recognize. Finally, Brenda turned her head and jumped.

She yanked the headphones out of her ears. “You two scared the waffles right out of me. Are you detectives or stalkers?”

“Well,” T.J. said, “when you put on a show like that, how could we resist?”

“Just grooving with the brothers.” She turned off the music and swiveled towards Dupree and T.J. “I suppose you two are here on a fact-finding mission. Or did you just pop over to chitchat?”

“Tell you what,” Dupree said. “If you’ve got something for us to sink our teeth into, I’ll bring you a latté and a brownie first thing in the morning.”

“So you think I’m that easy, huh?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Are we talking girl brownie or boy brownie?”

“Whatever you prefer.”

Dupree could tell by the confused look on T.J.’s face that he didn’t get the brownie joke. “Think about it, T.J.,” Dupree said. “It’ll hit you.”

“Okay, Amaris, you’ve got a deal. A latté and a walnut brownie.” Brenda went to work. “Boy, am I gonna make your day.”

“I get it,” T.J. finally said.

“Took you long enough,” Dupree said.

“First off,” Brenda said, “got a positive DNA match for Oscar Cassano’s blood and the blood in Dr. Crawford’s car.”

This did not surprise Dupree. But now, she had concrete evidence. “That’s good news. Keep making my day.”

“Here’s a few interesting facts about Margaret Hansen’s phone activity. Just like you suspected, she made three calls to a number that’s associated with one of those prepaid cell phones. It’s through a company called Rapid Cellular.”

Again, Dupree wasn’t shocked. She elbowed T.J. “So, I would bet that the southern accent on the other end of Cassano’s calls were from Hansen.”

“And if what Cassano and Lentz told us is true,” T.J. added. “That Lentz only hired Cassano to nab Dr. Crawford’s computer, then it was Maggie Hansen who made the deal with Cassano to kill Dr. Crawford.”

“There’s more,” Brenda said. “The three calls to Albany, New York were to a private number.”

Dupree pulled Adelman’s business card out of her pocket. “Refresh my memory, Brenda. Is the number 518-555-1777?”

“Sure enough is.”

“And how about the four calls to 345-555-2100?” Dupree asked.

Brenda turned the monitor slightly so Dupree and T.J. could get a better view. “That phone number is for GCI Trust, Ltd. on the Grand Cayman Island.”

Considering all this new information, Maggie Hansen, perhaps not on her own accord, hired Cassano to kill Dr. Crawford. But was it revenge that motivated her? Where did Hansen get the one-hundred K she paid Cassano?

“As always, Brenda,” Dupree said. “You never disappoint me.” Dupree glanced at the business card again. “Any chance you can tell us what the acronym OFC stands for?”

“Let’s find out.” Brenda keyed in a web site address. “Here’s a site that can identify every acronym in the free world” She typed in OFC and within seconds a list appeared. She ran her finger down the screen.

“Here’s some possibilities: Ottawa Folklore Center, Optical Fiber Conference, Oceania Football Confederation. Wait a minute. I’ll bet this is what you’re looking for: Offshore Financial Centre.” Brenda hit a few more keys. “Believe it or not, there are eighty-two countries with Offshore Financial Centres. Everywhere from American Samoa to Vatican City and everywhere in between. They’re havens for rich folks who want to hide their money from Uncle Sam.”

“The Grand Cayman Island is on the list, right?” Dupree asked.

“Actually,” Brenda said, “as far as the number of financial institutions offering offshore accounts, Grand Cayman ranks in the top ten.”

“I’m running to the little boy’s room,” T.J. said. “I’ll meet you in the conference room in a few minutes.”

“Well, Brenda,” Dupree said, “you certainly earned your latté and brownie. In fact, I should bring you a little sweet-treat every day for the next year.”

“Afraid that would ruin my girlish figure, Missy.”

“I really appreciate your efforts.” Dupree looked at her watch. “I have two more things I need help with, but they can wait until morning.”

“Give me the info now because I usually get in the office by six. By the time you show up I might have what you need.”

Dupree showed Brenda the back of the business card. “I’m reasonably sure that this is a bank account number for GCI Trust Ltd.” Dupree pointed. “If it is, I’d love to know whose name is on the account and the balance.”

“That might take some doing, but I’ll look in my little bag of tricks and see what I can come up with.”

“I’ll see you in the morning with your latté and brownie in hand,” Dupree promised.

“My mouth is watering just thinking about it.”

Brenda leaned toward Dupree and lowered her voice. “Can I ask a personal question?”

“Sure.”

“Not for nothing, but what’s the deal with Prince Charming and you?”

“Prince Charming?”

“T.J.”

“I’m not following you.”

“All the while we were talking, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

“I think you’ve been reading too many Danielle Steele novels.” She recalled when T.J. had softly touched her face and how
she had reacted. Was there substance to Brenda’s claim, or was it merely a fairytale?

Dupree headed for the conference room. She found T.J. looking through the case file.

As if she didn’t have enough to think about, Brenda’s comments about “Prince Charming” aka T.J., made her stop and think. Ever since T.J. and she had traded their life stories, the dynamic between them
had
changed. She could not deny the fact that an unexplainable intimacy existed between them, but she’d never considered that it might be driven by a romantic undertone—at least not from her viewpoint.

“So you think Brenda will be able to identify the account holder of that number?” T.J. asked.

“It isn’t very often she disappoints us, so let’s assume the best.”

Sitting next to T.J., Dupree felt a little self-conscious about Brenda’s observation. She took a deep breath and cleared her mind.

“Let’s recap what we know.” Dupree opened the folder and flipped through the pages.

“Dr. Lauren Crawford, research scientist for Horizon Cancer Research Center, on the verge of announcing a revolutionary treatment for cancer, is murdered by Oscar Cassano on the evening of June 30 at approximately ten-thirty p.m. in the ramp garage near Yankee Stadium. She stabs Cassano in the face with a nail file and he shoots her three times in the head with a .22 caliber pistol. We found blood from both victim and killer in the backseat, but no fingerprints or anything else we could use for a forensic evaluation. We confirmed that one sample of blood matches Cassano’s DNA. We could not make a visual identification of Cassano with the surveillance cameras in the garage. However, we did verify that Cassano has a birthmark shaped like a figure eight on the back of his neck.

“We interviewed both Dr. Edward Mason, Executive Director of Horizon and Leona Crawford, Dr. Crawford’s mother. Both gave us a brief history of Dr. Crawford’s relationship with Hulda Clark, and explained how Dr. Crawford expanded Dr. Clark’s research theories on cancer treatment.

“Jonathan Lentz, Dr. Crawford’s ex-boyfriend, had an affair with Maggie Hansen, research scientist at Horizon, which resulted in Crawford ending her relationship with Lentz. Shortly after, Dr. Crawford fired Hansen and she did not leave calmly. Lentz, supposedly working two jobs and barely making ends meet, bought an Audi A8 for over sixty-thousand dollars. I spotted Lentz and Hansen in a Starbucks and could tell that they were in a romantic relationship. During an interrogation of Lentz, he confessed that his step-father, Dominic Gallo, deputy director for the FDA, paid Lentz one-hundred-fifty thousand dollars to hire someone to steal Dr. Crawford’s computer. We verified that Lentz deposited the money into his savings account on July 1. According to phone records, over a one month period, Lentz and Gallo spoke via telephone thirty-seven times. In view of Cassano’s confession, Lentz’s role in this ordeal was not to have Dr. Crawford murdered, only to have her computer stolen.”

Dupree flipped a few more pages. “Cassano stated that after Lentz hired him, Lentz told him that he’d be contacted by someone else to give further instructions and make arrangements for payment. Lentz maintains that Gallo was supposed to make contact with Cassano via a pre-paid cell phone that Lentz gave to Cassano. But Cassano claims that he was contacted by a woman with a southern accent who offered him seven-hundred-fifty-thousand dollars to murder Dr. Crawford. Weighing all the evidence we will cover later, this person was likely Maggie Hansen. Prior to killing Dr. Crawford, Cassano hired Ivan Tesler to follow her and report back to Cassano with her whereabouts. Ivan Tesler’s testimony led us to Cassano. Aware that Tesler fingered
Cassano as part of a plea bargain, Cassano brutally tortured and murdered Tesler. We have an eye witness who saw Cassano leaving Tesler’s place right about the time he was killed. The plate number of the truck the man was driving is registered to Oscar Cassano. Before Tesler died, he wrote ‘Dupree’ and ‘Oscar’ on a piece of paper.”

Dupree yawned.

“Want me to continue?” T.J. asked.

“I’m fine. Just need to refocus my eyes.” Dupree rubbed her tired eyes and yawned again. “After Dr. Crawford’s murder, several pharmaceutical companies expressed a desire to partner with Horizon and continue with the research. Dr. Mason claims that a group of companies tried to bribe him with what they called a ‘cash incentive’. He decided to go with Hyland Laboratories—a pharmaceutical company that earlier tried to hire Maggie Hansen. If Horizon does ultimately partner with Hyland, Dominic Gallo, Lentz’s step-father, Deputy Director of the FDA, will work closely with them.

Dupree stood up and reached for the ceiling.

“Sure you don’t want me to finish?” T.J. asked. “I’m sitting here like a bump on a log.”

“I need you to be sure I’m giving an accurate account of the investigation and to add anything I might miss.”

“So far, you’re spot on.”

“Great.” Dupree glanced at her watch. “If we’re lucky, we’ll get out of here just on time for breakfast.”

Dupree fingered through a few more pages. “Let’s get back to Maggie Hansen.”

“After checking her bank statement and phone records, we discovered that she called the pre-paid cell phone in Cassano’s possession three times and also called Michael Adelman, CEO of Hyland Laboratories in Albany, New York three times. Hansen allegedly told Cassano to get rid of the pre-paid cell phone once
their business was completed. Cassano claims that he threw the phone in the East River.

“Because Hansen went to the top of the list as a suspect, we secured a warrant and searched her apartment. We found Michael Adelman’s business card, and written on the back was 650K, a phone number, GCI Trust, Ltd., and what appeared to be an offshore bank account number. Hopefully, Brenda will be able to determine if, in fact, the number on the back of Adelman’s business card is a bank account number. And if it is, find out whose name is on it.”

Dupree closed the folder. Her eyes took on a haunted look. “There is also the issue of the two envelopes I received.” She balled her hands into fists. “No doubt Hansen’s handiwork.” The mere thought of it, welled her gut with anger. The audacity of this woman to place Dupree’s life in danger infuriated her beyond words. But she had to remain calm and in control. She’d learned that unrestrained anger is a homicide detective’s nemesis, that it compromises objectivity and logic. So close to cracking this case wide open, she had to put her personal feelings aside and not lose sight of her only goal: putting Dr. Crawford’s killer behind bars.

“Anything else to add?” Dupree asked.

“You nailed it, Amaris. But as you were recapping, two things occurred to me. First, if either of us has any doubt that Hansen is capable of violence, let’s not forget that when she attended college, she beat the shit out of her roommate and was charged with assault. And it just happened to be over a guy. So, with the little triangle between Lentz, Dr. Crawford, and Hansen, who knows just how far Hansen might go? Second, nearly all of the key players, persons of interest, and witnesses are somehow intertwined.” T.J. picked up the folder and opened it. He pulled out a blank sheet of paper and removed a pen from his shirt pocket. Across the top of the paper he wrote, Crawford, Mason, Lentz, Hansen, Gallo, Cassano, Tesler, and Adelman. He drew a circle around the
names and then drew lines from each name to any other name where an association existed.