The Negotiator (17 page)

Dave exchanged a glance with Marcus, then looked back at her. “I’ll have Ben follow up on Henry Lott again. Why don’t we focus on Nathan’s schedule and appointments?”

Kate was well aware the two of them were arranging what she did, keeping her away from the one person they knew was dangerous, Henry Lott, but she let it go. She had enough to worry about without trying to figure out how to get around the protective net they were throwing up around her. She’d ignore it unless it got in the way of what she wanted to do. And she wanted to go after those bomb components. Answers could be found there. “His secretary should also be able to help us confirm it was his briefcase and laptop. How early tomorrow morning do you think we can hit their office?”

“The bank headquarters open at 8
A.M.
if I remember correctly. We’ll be the first ones in the door,” Dave assured.

Kate nodded. It would give them a couple hours tonight to plan their questions. “We’ve got the primary interviews tracking down information on Nathan Young?”

“They’re ours,” Dave confirmed. “We generate the questions. We can pull in as many people as we need to get the interviews done.”

Marcus leaned back against the table. “I’ll put someone on the security tapes to track Nathan’s movements through O’Hare, see if we can find out how the device got inside the airport. And I’ll get the last full audits of the various banks released to see if any accounts were considered suspicious. Anything else you want me to expedite?”

“The brother, Ashcroft Young, can you get his full trial transcript and prison record? The bio we have is pretty thin on details.”

Marcus made a note. “Sure.”

“Oh, and when you go after the bank records, would you also put someone digging into just how much cash Nathan Young had on hand?

Dave noticed his mortgage foreclosure rate was about three times higher than last year, like he was building up cash for some reason. It was one of the reasons we had an appointment with him today.”

“Anything else?” Marcus asked.

Dave reached over and closed Kate’s folder. “Yes. Dinner. It’s almost nine o’clock and I’m starved. This can wait an hour.”

Kate leaned back in her chair, twirled her pen, shot Marcus a private glance, and then looked back at Dave to give him a wicked grin. “Are you always like this in the middle of a hunt? Ready to take a break when things get on a roll?”

Dave’s eyes narrowed. “Taunting a tiger when he’s hungry is a dangerous thing to do, Kate.”

She blinked, startled at the comeback. “You mean I’ve got to find you red meat for dinner, too?”

Marcus stepped back out of the line of fire, stifling a laugh.

Kate giggled as Dave propelled her out of the chair, and it spun around behind her. “Okay, uncle! We’ll go eat.”

“Good.” He knuckled her head. “We’ll start with you eating crow.”

Her giggles blossomed into laughter. “Your puns are awful when you’re tired.”

“You ought to hear yours.”

The three of them ended up walking down to the airport employee cafeteria, appropriating a table near the dessert bar, and for the next hour left behind the work upstairs.

After two nights on a cot, Kate felt like a pretzel. If Dave didn’t let her move back to her own bed for tonight, she was going to be tempted to think about murder. She propped her elbows on the cafeteria table, cradled her cup of coffee in her hands, and did her best to ignore the commotion around her. Dave was finishing an omelette, and she wondered how he could eat breakfast with such apparent enjoyment. Her system wasn’t even sure what day it was anymore, let alone what time it was.

Marcus reached over to check the number on her pager. “New York said they would have the bank audit information here sometime this morning. I’ll page you as it comes in.”

Kate nodded and finished her coffee. She should be looking forward to getting out of the airport and hitting the road, finding some answers. She was, but it was buried under the fatigue. She had dreamed about the passengers last night. They had never said this job would be easy, but how many people was she expected to see die in her lifetime?

Dave reached over and gripped her arm. “Are you okay?”

Startled, she wiped her expression clear of emotion. “Fine.”

He scowled at her. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“What?”

“Pretend you don’t feel anything.”

She wanted to swear at him for going under her guard. “I’m sorry I don’t bleed to your ideal specification,” she bit out tersely, pushing back her chair, knowing she had better step back before the anger she felt flared toward him because he was handy.

Dave looked shocked; that made her feel like a heel.

Marcus gripped her wrist, stopping her movement. “Don’t go far.”

She looked at him, holding back a flare of anger at him as well. She wasn’t going to have free movement again until this case was solved and the use of her name during that bomb threat had been explained. “I’ll find a phone and check my messages,” she finally replied.

Marcus released her wrist. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” She glanced at Dave, offered an oblique apology. “I won’t be long.”

Dave was waiting for her by the stairway when she got off the phone, his attention focused on a coin he was turning over in his hand. She could read his frustration in the way he stood, his concentration on a coin. “Ready to go?” she asked.

He glanced at her, then pushed the coin back in his pocket as he straightened. “Sure.”

His abrupt answer made her sigh. “I apologize for that.”

Dave gestured to the stairs. “You’re predictable. You don’t like someone to get in your way. Where do you want to start?”

So much for restoring the peace between them. Kate turned her attention to work. “Let’s go pay a visit to Nathan’s office, then visit his wife.”

“We’ll take my car.” They headed toward the secure back parking lot.

Kate had expected the press to be out in numbers. She did not anticipate that the police would have to open a corridor on the other side of the security gate for them to be able to get past. “There are almost sixty people here, and it’s only a parking lot gate.”

“Welcome to the age of instant news.”

Kate sighed, looking back at the reporters. “I’ve been intentionally avoiding the television monitors.”

“Probably a wise idea. You don’t need any more bad news.”

He didn’t even know of the worst of it for her—Jennifer’s cancer. “It’s been a horrible week.”

“You’re holding up pretty well.”

“Only because I’m not stopping to think about it.” She looked down at her notes. “Let’s run through this from the top.”

“Start with the bank.”

She nodded. “A week ago last Tuesday, Henry Lott shows up at the bank with dynamite and a gun, in a tirade at First Union for foreclosing on his house. He is arrested, denied bail, and has apparently only talked with his lawyer since that time. Tuesday this week, at 9:40
A.M.
, I meet Bob Richards for a walking security review. At 10:48, the first bomb threat is called in. 10:52, Nathan Young boards Flight 714 as a late walk-on; he is carrying a briefcase. At 11
A.M.
, the second bomb threat is called in. The message is prerecorded and mentions my name. The bomb goes off at 11:15.”

“How does Henry Lott pull it off?”

“Clearly, he can’t. Not alone.”

“Does he have any family?”

“No. That was what made him so difficult to deal with at the bank. He had no reason not to die.”

“Could he have paid someone to kill Nathan Young?”

Kate tried to image that scenario. “Three problems. It would have had to be arranged before he walked into the bank. Once Henry was dead or arrested, the guy hired to do it would simply walk away. Second, no money. That was why the foreclosure occurred. Third, it’s the overkill problem again. A gun would have done the job. If Henry had been out of jail, maybe his personal motivation would be intense enough to make it a bomb, but a third party would have gone for expediency.”

Dave nodded. “Then who else might want to kill Nathan Young?”

“Probably his brother. But he’s dead.”

“What about his wife?”

“Maybe. We need to see if she inherits everything. But if she did it herself, a woman rarely uses explosives. And if she had help, why use a bomb that had to be smuggled past O’Hare security?”

“Okay. Someone at his office?”

“Interesting.” Kate jotted down that possibility. “They would have access to Nathan’s itinerary and to his briefcase. But what’s the gain?”

“Promotion?”

“It’s probably governed by an outside board, but if enough groundwork had already been laid to guarantee confirmation, it’s worth looking at. Promotion…what else?”

“Employee rage? Someone decides to kill the boss?”

“Why not a bomb in his car? Or a package bomb?” She sighed. “Dave, why put a bomb on a plane? There has to be a reason.”

They pulled into the parking lot of the bank corporate offices. Kate released her seat belt. “Let’s go prove Nathan carried that bomb on board the plane.”

Twelve

T
he corporate offices for First Union Bank left an impression of old wealth with the classic elegance, marble, and turn-of-the-century paintings. A brief check with the receptionist and Dave and Kate were invited to the executive floor.

Kate hung back a step and intentionally let Dave do the talking. The office doors behind the secretary opened just as he established the lady was merely a temp for the day, taking the place of Nathan Young’s secretary. The man who emerged came forward with the stride of someone accustomed to power. Kate caught a glimpse of a very large room with large glass windows before the door closed. “May I be of help? I’m Peter Devlon, the vice president of Union Group.”

The VP who had answered Henry’s letter.

Dave brought out his badge again. “Could we speak with you privately?”

“Certainly. Please, come into my office.” He gestured to an office on the other side of the hallway. Curious, Kate glanced back at the office he had been in. The discrete gold nameplate said Mr. Nathan Young.

She took a seat as Dave smoothly dealt with the pleasantries. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It’s been a very emotional day here. How can I help you?”

“We have a few questions regarding Mr. Young’s itinerary,” Dave replied, setting the tone for the interview. They had agreed last night Dave would pursue the questions while Kate waited, ready to step in on inconsistencies she heard.

“Of course.” Mr. Devlon leaned against his desk rather than walk around to sit behind it.

“He was traveling to New York on business?”

Mr. Devlon nodded. “He was going out for a 5
P.M.
meeting, planning to fly back this morning.”

“He was a walk-on for the MetroAir flight. Was it an unexpected meeting?”

“No, it had been on the calendar for about a month. Nathan would have normally taken the company jet.” Mr. Devlon grimaced. “His decision to take MetroAir was truly a fluke. We had just concluded a meeting in the business lounge by the MetroAir gate; the flight was boarding, and it would cut an hour off his travel time. He needed to work during the flight, and frankly, that would have been difficult to do on the company plane. His wife Emily had decided at the last minute to fly out with him and stay at their New York penthouse through the weekend. Nathan asked me to fly to New York on the company jet with her as originally planned, get her settled at the penthouse, and then meet him at the office.”

Dave waited a moment before asking the next question. “Whom did he meet with at the airport?”

“There were two meetings actually. One with Mr. William Phillips, the prior owner of First Federal Bank of Denver, and the other with the owner of Wilshire Construction.”

Kate remained still even though her heart raced as the company name registered.
Wilshire Construction. Henry Lott’s former employer.
It couldn’t be coincidence that all the threads were running back together: Henry Lott, Nathan Young, Wilshire Construction.

“Why at the airport?”

Mr. Devlon spread his hands. “Mr. Phillips was on a layover, flying on to Washington; this was the only time in their schedules they could meet. Nathan has been looking at who to put in charge of the Denver bank, and he wanted to speak with Mr. Phillips before making that decision.”

“Isn’t that a little unusual?”

“Not when one of the candidates was Mr. Phillips’s son.”

“Was he offered the position?” Dave asked.

“No. The meeting was to smooth ruffled feathers only, let him know his son would be considered for the position in a few years if he proved capable.”

“Why was the bank sold if the son wanted to run it?”

Mr. Devlon smiled. “Mr. Phillips had nearly run it into insolvency. It was sell or face a lot of bad press if news got out as to the bank’s real condition.” Kate narrowed her eyes as she heard the satisfaction in Mr. Devlon’s voice. He liked that, the misfortune of others. No wonder Henry Lott had felt like he was getting squeezed. Mr. Devlon had written that letter refusing to stop the mortgage foreclosure.

“The second meeting?” Dave’s voice had cooled, Kate noted; he had read the same thing in Mr. Devlon’s reply.

“Wilshire Construction. It was fit in because there were a few minutes in Nathan’s schedule and there was some urgency to the problem.”

“What type of problem?”

“The company was having some cash flow problems and wanted to extend their loans, but we had floated them too much as it was.”

“What’s the status of Wilshire Construction now?” Dave asked, probing.

“We are in the process of terminating their line of credit. They have another ten days to restore enough liquidity to make payroll and buy another thirty days with us, but I doubt they’ll survive. Construction can be a ruthless business.”

Money trouble. Kate could feel that new thread tying the others together. Henry Lott was having money troubles; his former employer was having money troubles.

“Have they been customers for a while?” Dave asked.

Mr. Devlon folded his arms. “Actually, yes. Almost twenty years. But the son runs the business now, and he’s young, inexperienced.”

“His name?”

“Tony Emerson.”

Kate absorbed the shock as she would a sudden act of violence, not letting the emotions register.
Emerson.
She stopped following the conversation as her thoughts began to race. This was the link to her past. Her distant past.

How many Emersons could there be in this area? Surely enough to give her some cover, at least until she knew the truth. She forced her breathing to go calm. Yes. Deal with the facts. It was a name. One she had reason to hate, to fear, but it still was just a name. There didn’t necessarily have to be a connection between it and the bomb threat.

They are connected. You know it. What are you going to do when you have proof?

She wasn’t some helpless kid anymore. Even if this pulled her deeper into the crisis, left her vulnerable to people who didn’t know her speculating on what it meant. Tony Emerson Sr. was dead. She knew that, had once tossed a rock at his gravestone. She knew he was buried under six feet of ground.

Get through this interview. Get back to the airport. Get the facts. Then do whatever you have to.… She tuned back in to the conversation.

“Were you present for both meetings?” Dave asked.

“I was in the business lounge, yes. I was making a few calls, following up on some business we had discussed on the drive to the airport. I sat in on the second meeting to take notes,” Mr. Devlon replied.

“Did anyone else attend these meetings? Associates of Mr. Phillips? Mr. Emerson?”

“I believe Mr. Phillips had his lawyer and his secretary traveling with him. They were working at one of the tables across the room.”

Dave turned the page in his notepad. “Do you remember their names?”

“Sorry, no.”

“Mr. Emerson?”

“He was alone,” Mr. Devlon replied.

“How long did the meetings last?”

Mr. Devlon thought about it for a few moments. “We got to the airport about 9:15
A.M.
, and I called in a few minutes late for a 10:45 conference call after I left Nathan at the MetroAir gate, so, I’d guess about an hour.”

“You said you made notes of the second meeting?”

“Yes.”

“Would you mind if I see them?” Dave asked it idly, but Kate heard his interest. He had latched on to that money trouble theory as well.

“They were on Nathan’s laptop, I’m afraid. I did e-mail a copy to the branch manager if you would like me to have them forwarded to you.”

“The business lounge has power outlets and phone lines for laptops?” Kate broke in to ask.

Peter Devlon was surprised by the question, but answered it. “It’s fully equipped as an office away from home.”

“You didn’t need to use a battery pack?” Kate pushed.

Now he looked puzzled. “No. It was fully charged for his trip to New York.”

Kate wondered how this bit of news was going to go over back at the airport. The investigators, having reached the conclusion the bomb was in Nathan’s laptop, were going to love being told the laptop had been used just before the flight, and inside terminal security at that.

“Do you have an inventory system for insurance purposes that would allow us to identify that laptop? Its serial numbers or the like?” Dave asked.

“Sure, if you need it.”

“It would help.”

Mr. Devlon nodded, picked up the phone, and called someone in the bank, passing along the request. “Scott will leave the printout at the main desk for you to pick up.”

“What about his briefcase? Anything that might help identify it?”

“That is simple. It was handmade for him last year as a gift from the board. Scrolled leather tooling, a custom-designed handle with, how would you describe it, a form-fit grip?”

“Molded?” Dave asked.

“Yes.”

Dave changed the subject. “Would it be possible to get a copy of his calendar for the last few weeks?”

“The secretary can copy whatever you need.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that. Do you happen to know why Ashcroft Young was traveling to New York?”

“I’m sorry, no. I was as surprised as everyone else to find he was on the flight,” Mr. Devlon replied.

“How would you characterize the relationship between the two brothers?” Kate asked, wondering how much he knew about the brothers. They were going to have to find a handle into the reality they had brothers, a bank president and a drug dealer, both killed on the same flight.

“Strained would be a safe characterization. I assume you know about Ashcroft’s past record?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“It caused Nathan some grief during the audit before his purchase of the Denver bank. To the best of my knowledge, they were not on speaking terms.”

Kate wasn’t surprised at that news, but she was disappointed. If Nathan hadn’t told his second in command much about his brother, they were going to have a hard time getting a handle on the relationship.

“I understand Nathan had no children?” Dave asked.

“That’s correct.”

“So his wife inherits everything?”

“I have no direct knowledge of his will, but yes; it was always assumed controlling interest would pass to Emily should something happen to Nathan. She is already a minority owner, occasionally sitting in on board meetings,” Mr. Devlon replied.

Kate was surprised at that news, and from her glance at Dave, he was, too.

“Will she be active in running the banks?” Dave asked.

“I hope so,” Mr. Devlon replied. “She’s got the talent for it. She headed one of the small New York community banks Nathan acquired—that’s how they met. If not, the banks have strong managers, and I can deal with the day-to-day management of the corporate group. We’ll adjust to whatever she wants.”

Dave nodded and got to his feet. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Devlon.”

Kate saw the movement and closed her notepad, glad to have this interview done. Nothing had prepared her for having this case go to the heart of her past.
Tony Emerson.
She had thought she would never have to hear that name again during her lifetime.

She forced herself to wait patiently beside Dave as the secretary copied Nathan’s calendar for them going back four weeks. Dave handed the pages to her, and Kate glanced at the pages briefly before indicating it was what they needed. They paused in the lobby to get the inventory list.

Stepping from the chill of air-conditioning to the dry heat of outdoors was a shock.

Dave pulled out his car keys. “Three new players on the table, all with access. Mr. Peter Devlon, the VP orchestrating things; Mr. William Phillips, former bank owner whose bank got gobbled up and his son shafted; and Tony Emerson of Wilshire Construction, about to go out of business.” He held open the passenger door. “Kate.”

“Sorry.”

“What are you thinking about so intently?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

He shot her a curious glance as he started the car. “Give me a hint?”

She forced a smile, then shook her head. “We need to see the security videotapes from the business lounge. Do we head back to the airport?” She desperately needed access to a terminal to check out a name.

“Let’s see if Nathan’s widow is available first, while we are still downtown.”

Kate had no choice but to nod. There was no way she could mention her fear.