by G. K. Parks
“Just that Mr. Mansfield knew about the ransomware scheme and wanted it stopped. Barber says Mansfield didn’t want anyone to know about the weakness in CryptSpec’s latest app, so Mansfield lied about the corporate espionage to cast aspersions and hired Cross Security to investigate.”
“Do you believe that?” Jablonsky asked.
“I don’t know,” Heathcliff said. “But Barber admitted to targeting Don Klassi with the malware. According to Barber, Klassi and Mansfield were tight. They were best friends or something, so Barber thought that would be a great way to stick it to his boss.”
“Have you spoken to Mansfield yet?” Jablonsky asked.
“Not today. We tried calling, but his assistant said he was in a lunch meeting and couldn’t be disturbed. He’s probably getting the bandages removed from his plastic surgery.” Derek rolled his eyes. “Uniforms are at the office, waiting for him to return.”
Jablonsky snorted. “If I were you, kid, I’d disturb his lunch meeting.”
Turning away from the men with the badges, I fished my phone out of my bag and called Cross. He spent the most time with Mansfield. Perhaps the owner of the start-up had confided in Cross, and that’s why the investigation had been reopened after I completed my analysis.
I only asked Lucien the most basic of questions, knowing that Jablonsky would want to point out that Lucien’s visit to my apartment this morning provided the perfect opportunity to stake out the place, follow us, and shoot at me, but I didn’t think Cross was the killer. And when in doubt, I knew to trust my gut. Since my boss was playing ball, I told him about the pamphlets and cryptocurrency we found hidden in Steinman’s house.
Hanging up, I turned back to Mark. The killer didn’t target me because I fit his obsession. He targeted me because he feared what I knew. That meant there was only one other person he would lash out against since he couldn’t get to me.
“We need to get to Noah before our killer does,” I said.
* * *
When we arrived at the hospital, Lucien was seated in the waiting room. I stared, horrified, at him. My gut said the killer would come to the hospital to end Noah since the trail from Steinman’s home led back to the grifter. Cross’s appearance couldn’t have been an accident, and I never mentioned I was coming here.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked as the sick feeling twisted my insides tighter.
“He’s begging to get arrested again,” Jablonsky offered from a few steps behind me. “What do you know about Gideon Steinman?”
Cross ignored the question. “I have to speak to Noah. It’s urgent.”
“You’re not getting near him,” Mark growled. “And it’s mighty convenient that you show up now, right after someone tried to kill Alex.” Jablonsky gestured to the police officers stationed at the door.
“What happened?” Cross asked.
“As if you don’t already know,” Mark snapped.
“I don’t.” Cross stared at me. “Parker?”
“What did you find on CryptSpec and Mansfield?” I asked. Mark gestured for one of the officers to check on Noah, and the other two flanked Cross.
“Barber wasn’t lying. There was no corporate espionage, just the ransomware scheme. It was a security issue with CryptSpec’s latest app that allowed for the backdoor into the system. It was a weakness the programmers knew about and some chose to exploit. Detective Heathcliff was right; that’s why Mansfield hired us,” Cross said.
“Did you know all along?” I asked.
“No.” Cross glanced in the direction of Noah’s room. “I have to see him.”
“You know who the killer is,” I said.
“I have a hunch but no proof.” Cross licked his lips. “I need to know where Noah got the coin. How he got it. It shouldn’t be in circulation. It was something Mansfield created that launched his company. Only a few people came to possess it, and most trashed it when it tanked. Mansfield started CryptSpec with several close friends, but when the company became profitable, they took payouts and abandoned ship. It makes no sense. Why did Steinman have a closet full of it, and how did Noah get so much of it?”
“You think Noah got the cryptocurrency from one of them?” Jablonsky asked.
Suddenly, it clicked. “Did Mansfield know Steinman?” I asked. Both men shrugged. “Mansfield doesn’t have a criminal record, but we need his prints.”
“His address might be better,” Lucien retorted.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you later.”
I peered into Noah’s room, but he was unconscious with a breathing tube down his throat. The swelling in his brain hadn’t completely subsided. We wouldn’t be able to talk to him. “We need guards stationed at his door. No one except hospital staff in or out.”
Mark smiled. “I knew you missed being an agent.”
We reconvened at Cross Security since it was faster to get intel without the hassle of court orders and warrants. Plus, Lucien already had a case file started on CryptSpec and its founder. Kellan and Bennett joined us in the conference room, and we poured over the information, searching for a completely different set of clues.
Mansfield knew there was no corporate espionage and his programmers were responsible for the ransomware scheme. He just didn’t know exactly who was responsible, so he hired Cross Security to detect the problem under the guise of corporate espionage. The suspicious payments tipped me off to Ian Barber, who I then turned over to Mansfield.
“Stuart Gifford knew of the app’s weakness. He was one of the first victims,” Heathcliff said, arriving just as Kellan and Bennett called it a day. “That’s why he was killed. He threatened to expose them and the entire CryptSpec operation. He spoke to several of the programmers and Mansfield. Gifford was going to go to the press. A reporter was going to meet him that afternoon.”
“You’re sure?” I asked.
Derek nodded. “I arrested Gifford’s killer an hour ago. He was just a hitman for hire. He alibied out for the time of the abduction and for Klassi’s murder. He’s not our unsub, but our unsub contracted him, probably in order to ensure he had an alibi. The hitman was paid anonymously to take out Gifford. He was supposed to do it outside Gifford’s office, but it was too busy there. So he followed him and popped him outside CryptSpec.”
“How did you find the hitman?” Jablonsky asked.
Heathcliff nodded at Cross. “Those two female eyewitnesses you pointed me to.”
Jablonsky narrowed his eyes at Lucien. “Why didn’t you tell me you found two eyewitnesses to the shooting?”
“You’re not a homicide detective, and I don’t investigate murders,” Cross retorted. “Plus, they didn’t want to come forward, and you would have spooked them. I had to meet with them in a motel several times to convince them it was in their best interest to cooperate with the police.”
“Guess something you said or did persuaded them. Anyway, we traced the hitman’s financials, but he didn’t get paid with the usual wire transfer. Want to guess how he got paid for the hit?” Heathcliff asked.
“Cash at a dead drop,” I said. “Two hundred and fifty thousand.”
Heathcliff pointed at me. “Bingo.”
“Did you check surveillance footage of the area?” Jablonsky asked.
“Yep,” Heathcliff said. “Want to guess who left the money and picked up a rifle?”
“The man in black.” I blew out a breath. “It’s Mansfield. It has to be. He must have given the hitman Steinman’s rifle to use in the commission of the crime and to hold as collateral until the contract was paid in full. I bet the bodies buried in the woods are a match to the four people who helped start CryptSpec. Mansfield was afraid the unnecessary attention from the ransomware scheme would lead to someone digging around in CryptSpec’s background and discovering how he really took control of the company, by killing off his partners.”
“He probably didn’t have a choice. The five of them committed fraud,” Lucien said. “
The coin they mined was always fake. It didn’t lose value. It never had any, but they figured if people believed it had worth, then at some point, it might. They perpetuated the lie in order to make a name for themselves.”
“They distributed flyers and printed materials to make the coin appear legitimate, but they never had any takers. The concept was new. No one trusted it,” I said.
“And then they found the perfect mark,” Jablonsky said. “Gideon Steinman. Mansfield or one of his partners convinced Gideon to invest his winnings. The monthly payments Gideon received were dividends from CryptSpec, but after the ransomware scheme caused the company to come under extreme scrutiny, the payments stopped. Mansfield was afraid we’d discover the truth.”
“Great,” I sighed, “so how do we prove some techie is a psycho killer?”
Thirty-nine
Heathcliff hauled Nicholas Mansfield down to the precinct for questioning. Jablonsky, Cross, and I waited impatiently in the interrogation room. The first thing I noticed about Mansfield was the faint yellowing around his eyes. During Heathcliff’s earlier interviews, Mansfield told the detective he had a procedure done to remove the bags from beneath his eyes, and he bandaged the area well enough that Derek didn’t realize Mansfield’s nose had been broken.
“Did you get a look at his medical records?” I asked.
Cross let out a snarl. “He went to the plastic surgeon. He’s too smart not to cover his tracks.”
“Dammit.” I stared at the glass, wanting to carve that smug look off Mansfield’s face.
As predicted, Mansfield claimed to have no knowledge of Gideon Steinman. However, due to the questionable nature of the cryptocurrency he financed his company with, along with the two recent murders, we had gotten a warrant. While Derek spoke to Mansfield, police and FBI agents were searching Mansfield’s home, phone and business records, financial records, and CryptSpec for evidence.
“Unless we get something that directly links Mansfield to Steinman, we’ve got nothing.” Jablonsky cursed.
“The actual smoking gun would be nice,” Cross muttered.
“What about the shares of CryptSpec?” I asked.
“Circumstantial. Everything is fucking circumstantial,” Mark said.
“Not coincidental?” Cross enjoyed putting the screws to Mark.
“Where were you last week?” Heathcliff asked, staring at Mansfield. “You refused to come in to answer questions, and you weren’t at CryptSpec either.”
“Recovering from surgery, like I said,” Mansfield replied. “I’d be happy to show you my discharge papers and care instructions, Detective. I’m sure my doorman can vouch for my whereabouts.”
“He’s not going to crack,” Jablonsky said. “Without some sort of corroboration or proof that he sold worthless coin to Gideon Steinman, we can’t make the fraud charges stick either.”
“What about the ransomware?” I asked.
“He’s already denied knowing about it, and even when things come to light, he’ll claim he hired us to sort through the mess,” Lucien said.
I watched Heathcliff. I’d seen him conduct enough interrogations to know he was frustrated. The situation seemed hopeless. Mansfield’s attorney wasn’t allowing his client to answer anything that might be damning or could be used to link Mansfield to another crime. The only thing Mansfield admitted to was being friends with Don Klassi and residing in the same apartment building. Acquaintances was the term he used. He said they only spoke about possible properties for CryptSpec’s inevitable expansion.
“All right, so we do this the hard way,” I said.
Mark stared at me. “No. You are not going in there to confront him.”
“Of course not,” I said. “This is a police matter, and I promised Heathcliff I’d stay away from his case.” But I had to do something.
“You have no evidence against my client. Mr. Mansfield is a respected member of the community. We’ve been nothing but cooperative.” The attorney stood. “This interview is over.”
“Not so fast,” Heathcliff snapped.
The attorney stared at Derek for a long moment. “Then charge him.”
“I’m sure I will soon enough.” Heathcliff gestured to the medic to conduct a blood draw. The warrant also included a blood sample, and I was confident it would match the drops left by my attacker in the alleyway.
Mansfield’s eyes went ice cold, and he glowered at the medic as the tube filled. He knew he was caught. It was just a matter of time.
“He knows he’s dead to rights. He’ll run,” I said.
“I’ll put a surveillance team on him,” Jablonsky promised. “I’m sure the police will do the same. He won’t escape.”
“You have no grounds yet to detain him,” Cross said. “How exactly do you plan on stopping him from fleeing?”
“Don’t worry about how I do my job,” Mark growled.
I stared through the glass, watching Mansfield roll down his sleeve and put on his jacket. He lived in Klassi’s building, which explained how he gained easy access to Don’s apartment and slipped away after the gunshots without being seen. And since he was a programmer, he knew how to hack into security feeds, deactivate cameras, and even how to screw with the security system at the gallery. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder how he managed to slip in and out of his apartment building without anyone noticing.
“Where the hell is he hiding the handgun and rifle?” I asked.
“We’ll find them,” Jablonsky said as Mansfield walked out of interrogation with his lawyer in tow.
Before anyone could say or do anything, Cross stepped out of the observation room. “I’m not doing your job for you,” Cross bellowed. “Get your own evidence.” He stormed down the hallway in a huff.
“What the hell was that about?” Heathcliff asked, stepping inside as a bewildered Mansfield continued in the opposite direction, toward the front entrance. Jablonsky raised an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest and stared at me, waiting for an answer.
“I don’t know, but I think Cross has a plan.” I grabbed my bag off the table. “I’m going to find out what it is.”
“Alex,” Jablonsky warned, but I pushed past him.
“Parker?” Heathcliff called after me.
“Maintain eyes on Mansfield. Do not let him slip away,” I called over my shoulder.
Finally, I caught up to Cross at the back stairwell. He concluded a call and put his phone back in his pocket. He looked behind me, spotting Mark watching us from the other end of the hall.
“You should go home. I’ll assign a security team for your protection,” Cross offered.
“Did you know Mansfield was a killer?” Cross didn’t answer, so I pushed harder. “Did you know he was behind the attack? That he trapped me in that room, hoping to kill me?”
“Watch yourself.”
“How long have you known?”
“I didn’t know,” Cross bit out. “I still don’t. I have people looking into the four other men who started CryptSpec. It could be one of them. Right now, nothing concrete points to Mansfield.”
I scoffed. “Are you that stubborn that you can’t admit coincidences don’t exist? Or is this because you’re too arrogant to accept you were working for a psychopath?” I saw something in his eyes. “Tell me the truth.”
“I overlooked him as a possibility until you told me Don Klassi was killed at home.” Lucien rubbed a hand over his mouth and stared at the wall.
“Guess what,” Jablonsky said, joining us, “we all missed it.” Mark blew out a breath. “Agents are going to show Mansfield’s photo to the nursing home staff and see if he might be Steinman’s nephew Nicky. I have a few calls in to see if we can get a warrant to ping his phone and track his movement for the last few weeks. I’m just waiting to hear back.”
Cross bit his lip, the wheels turning in his head. “I should go. Obviously, you know what you’re doing. And as a rule, I don’t involve myself in murder investigations.” He nodded at me. “I’ll have a
team placed outside your apartment building. Let me know when Mansfield is apprehended.”
Mark watched him leave. “I still don’t trust him.”
“That makes two of us.”
* * *
Ditching the protection detail wasn’t difficult, but the same couldn’t be said for Bruiser and Marcal. Martin was at the office, probably setting plans in motion to work remotely for the foreseeable future, so in his absence, his bodyguards were sticking to me like glitter to glue. I paced back and forth inside our tiny apartment, feeling caged and helpless. It wasn’t a good feeling, particularly after enduring four days of hell locked in that bomb shelter. I could feel the panic starting to bubble closer to the surface.
“I need air,” I said.
Bruiser studied me, recognizing the signs. “I’ll open the balcony door.”
“No.” I shook my head vehemently. “Heights. Pigeons. Bad idea.” I exhaled. “I need to get out of here.”
We went for a drive. The entire time, my mind remained on Mansfield and the investigation. We were so close, but blood evidence took time to process. And even with a rush order, it would still take hours, probably days, before anything definitive surfaced. Jablonsky hadn’t called back with news regarding the nursing home staff, but even if they IDed Mansfield, it wouldn’t prove anything. Any halfway decent defense attorney would point that out. We needed the weapons. Hell, we just needed proof.
“I need to check something at the office.”
Marcal glanced in the rear view mirror and eyed me. “Yes, Miss Parker.”
When we arrived at Cross Security, Bruiser accompanied me to my office. Marcal remained illegally parked out front. I keyed in a few searches and dug through the filing cabinet for additional information on the CryptSpec case. Heathcliff had been right all along to think they were connected. I should have trusted him and told him about Don Klassi sooner. Perhaps if I did, the man would still be alive and none of this shit would have happened.
“I messed up.” The sick feeling returned. “I’m gonna use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”