The reporter prompted him. “That’s when you raised the alarm? That it wasn’t a suicide.”
“That’s right. Lots of people wanted Fredrick Svensson dead. His views on currency reform were very controversial.”
The camera zoomed in on the reporter facing the camera. “Fredrick Svensson was a Nobel nominee. His research on currency and monetary policy was revolutionary and the basis for the current discussions on currency reform. He had proposed one common global currency throughout his thirty-year career, then suddenly reversed his opinion. In a note written shortly before his death.”
The screen switched to Svensson’s speech in Stockholm. Again Kat saw the woman standing behind Svensson. This time she was absolutely sure. It was Angelika, the housekeeper at the Tides Resort.
Kat still puzzled over Angelika’s housekeeper disguise. If they were lovers as Kat assumed, it explained Angelika’s presence at Hideaway Bay. Was she involved in Svensson’s murder? Could she be the woman who was seen with him the day he disappeared?
Did Angelika have some unfinished business at Hideaway Bay?
Kat realized something else. Why Landers had run from her on the ferry to Hideaway Bay. Being spotted on the ferry would discredit his chain of events. Landers couldn’t claim to have seen Svensson if he wasn’t there. According to the police, Landers was the only witness besides the unknown woman who could pinpoint the time of Svensson’s disappearance. That left the timing of his disappearance suspect. What if he had actually disappeared much earlier?
Kat limped back to the chairs, suddenly aware of her throbbing foot again. She propped it up on the table in front of her, ignoring dirty looks from a middle-aged man across from her.
Landers was trying to set up a story. Was it sequenced to coincide nicely with what he postulated in his book? Or was it something more?
The reporter held her microphone in front of Roger Landers as the camera panned out.
“His abrupt change of opinion was a shock to everyone,” Landers said. “After all, he was now dispelling his theory on currency reform. The basis for his Nobel nomination.”
“Do the police have any new leads on Svensson’s murder?”
It struck Kat as odd that these questions were directed at Landers and not the police. Surely the police of such a small detachment would want to appear on camera. Svensson’s murder was the biggest thing to happen in Hideaway Bay for decades, maybe even ever. So where was Officer Kravitz?
“There is one lead in particular,” Landers said. “Another man disappeared around the same time Svensson did.”
Landers hadn’t mentioned this in their hotel room.
Kat glanced over at Harry. He had dozed off, his head slumped into his chest.
“And who might that be?” The reporter appeared to be coaching Landers, as if she knew the answer.
“Jace Burton. He’s a search and rescue volunteer familiar with the area. He recently lost his job and may have been distraught. He knows all the dangerous areas, including the cornice where Svensson fell. Or was pushed.” The screen flashed a picture of Jace on the screen.
Kat’s mouth dropped open. Landers was framing Jace? Landers knew Jace hadn’t been on that trail. Would he go that far for a story? Was that what brought Landers to Kurt’s cabin? To plant evidence?
If anything, Landers was the criminal, breaking into Kurt’s cabin. Was he involved in Svensson’s disappearance, or just covering up for someone else? Like Nathan Barron?
Jace was right.
Nothing mattered until it happened to you. Then it was always worth fighting for. Kat just hoped it wasn’t too late.
Chapter 55
“Kat? The nurse is calling you.” Harry pointed at the heavyset nurse waiting in front of the double swinging doors. Her floral-print uniform accentuated rolls of fat straining to escape around her waist. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, looking tired.
Kat couldn’t believe she had dozed off in the waiting room. Sleep deprivation and the stress of running back and forth to Hideaway Bay were taking its toll. She rose and followed the nurse, motioning for Harry to follow.
He shuffled stiffly beside her. Even with her limp, she had to slow down for him.
The nurse arched her brows and regarded Harry.
“He’s coming in with me,” Kat said. She wasn’t leaving him in any more waiting rooms.
The nurse met her eyes and nodded after a quick glance at Harry. She led them to a large ward with beds lined up against each wall. Curtains partitioned each bed but provided only an illusion of privacy. Voices rose and fell in tone and volume, and Kat’s ears picked up several conversation threads as she hobbled by the adjoining beds.
The nurse stopped halfway down the ward and motioned for Kat to lie down. She propped up Kat’s injured leg with pillows. Harry sat on the plastic chair beside the bed and stared off into space.
Minutes later the doctor appeared. He was thirty-something, thin, with pasty skin and a receding hairline. Kat recounted the accident as he unraveled her bandage and examined her foot.
The doctor held up a shard of glass in his tweezers. “Here’s the problem. You still had a piece of glass in there. You’ll need stitches and a Tetanus shot.” He smiled and scribbled something on a notepad. “Wear shoes next time.”
He whirled around on his stool and dropped his tweezers on a tray beside him. He turned back but stopped at Harry this time. “You’re not looking so good. Are you feeling okay?”
Harry’s face was flushed, and he was sweating despite the coolness in the big room.
“Yup.” Harry wiped his brow. “My stomach’s just a bit upset.”
Dr. X grabbed a tongue depressor from his tray and rolled his stool over to Harry. “Open your mouth, please.”
Harry complied.
“When was the last time you ate?”
“Uh, not for awhile. I haven’t eaten all day.”
Kat interrupted. “Actually, he ate about an hour and a half ago. A bite of a cheese and tomato sandwich.” She pulled herself up in bed and smiled at the doctor. “He forgets sometimes.”
Harry stared straight ahead, concentration evident as the doctor prodded with the tongue depressor.
The doctor turned to Kat. His face was a mask, the friendly banter gone. “I’d like to admit him, run some tests. It might be the flu, or something more serious. We’ll need to keep him overnight.”
Harry’s ears perked up. “I’m not staying here overnight. I need to go home.”
“You’re not well, Mr. Denton. It’s not advisable for you to go home.”
“Well, in that case...” Harry’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t go home if it’s not safe.”
“We just need to rule out anything serious, Mr. Denton.”
“Okay, doc.” Harry shrugged and looked at Kat.
She nodded in agreement.
The doctor patted Harry on the shoulder and exited, avoiding Kat’s gaze.
“Don’t worry, Uncle Harry. I’ll check your house, make sure everything’s locked up. I’ll be back in the morning to take you home.” Harry did look ill. Even considering the dementia, he’d been acting strangely. It would be good for him to get checked out. It also solved another problem: she couldn’t exactly take Harry to see his empty house. Maybe she could even track Hillary down and confront her about the house.
“You sure, Kat? You don’t mind?”
“Of course I don’t mind. And the hospital is the best place to be if you’re not feeling well. They’ll take good care of you.”
The heavyset nurse reappeared and motioned to Harry. “Follow me, Mr. Denton.”
Harry turned to Kat, uncertain. “Okay, Kat. I guess I’ll stay.”
“Okay, Uncle Harry. See you soon.” Kat gave Harry a hug and the nurse led him away. But it wasn’t okay. Harry was sick, all his possessions gone, and his finances had spiraled out of control. Jace was missing and a murder suspect—at least in Landers’ eyes. What could she do? Their lives were shatt
ering into pieces, so fast she couldn’t pick them up anymore.
Chapter 56
Kat exited the elevator on the tenth floor Thursday morning, more relaxed despite only a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. Her foot felt much better, and she’d managed to board up the broken window. It had even stopped raining. She had come straight back to the hospital, having decided not to revisit Harry’s house until she talked to Hillary.
She followed the signs to the Elder Care ward. She spotted Harry in a chair by the nurses’ station, busily chatting with two nurses. She smiled as she headed towards them. Already Uncle Harry appeared much better, and his pallor had returned to normal.
“Uncle Harry? I’m back.”
Harry turned and broke into a wide grin as he saw her. “What are you doing here, Kat?”
“I came to visit you. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” Harry lowered his voice. “Can’t you see I’m working? I can’t talk right now.”
“You’re in the hospital, Uncle Harry.”
“The hospital? Don’t be silly.” Harry motioned to a row of chairs across the hall. “Just wait over there, and I’ll talk to you on my coffee break.”
The two nurses studied Kat, but their expressions remained unchanged. The older one said something to the second nurse, then rose and marched over to intercept Kat. “Dr. Konig would like to speak with you. Wait here, please.”
“Okay.” Kat walked towards Harry’s chair just as a slim redhead sped around the corner, almost colliding with Kat and the nurse.
“Uh—Dr. Konig, this is Harry Denton’s niece. She brought him in last night.” The nurse returned to the nurses’ station, leaving Kat face to face with the doctor.
The doctor nodded and studied Kat. She didn’t say anything.
Kat held out her hand, but the doctor ignored it and crossed her arms instead.
“We have the preliminary test results back on your uncle.” The doctor’s eyes bored into hers, watching for a reaction.
“It’s still the flu, isn’t it?” Kat shifted her weight off her sore foot. “He was battling it a couple weeks back, although he seemed to be coming out of it.”
“Not quite. He’s been poisoned.”
Kat almost fell backwards. “Poisoned? That’s impossible. Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” The doctor nodded, her mouth set into a thin, hard line. “That’s what the tests show. Harry said he lives alone—is that true?”
“He does—but I don’t understand. I make all his meals. We usually have breakfast and lunch together. He comes to work with me every day and stays at our house for dinner. Usually, that is. I’ve been away for a few days.”
“You haven’t seen him for a few days? I thought you took care of him?” She snorted. “Just how often do you see him?”
Kat didn’t like the tone in the doctor’s voice. “Like I said—every day. But I was away for work the past few days. It couldn’t be helped. But we eat the same food. Shouldn’t I be sick too?”
The doctor scrutinized her. “In theory.”
Kat felt uncomfortable with the way Dr. Konig was staring at her. “You can’t possibly think that I—No!” Kat stepped back. “You think I poisoned him? That’s crazy.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think, Ms. Carter. I’ve given my medical assessment to the health authorities. They’ll determine the next course of action.”
“What do you mean, the next course of action?”
Dr. Konig glared at Kat and handed her a business card. “Here’s the number. A social worker will call you in the next few days. In the meantime, I hope you’ll understand that we can’t release your uncle to you. Furthermore, all your visits will be supervised.”
Kat glanced at Harry. A security guard had materialized twenty or so feet away, near the entrance. His eyes met Kat’s before he averted his gaze.
“Supervised?” Kat’s voice cracked. “That doesn’t make any sense. You don’t think that I—I poisoned him?”
Dr. Konig pursed her lips but said nothing.
“I would never hurt my uncle. There must be a mistake.”
“I’ve got to take precautions. Now if you’ll please excuse me.” Dr. Konig turned and strode away. Kat’s eyes followed her as she retreated down the hall.
“You don’t understand. I didn’t do anything.” Kat followed after Dr. Konig. She stopped when she noticed the security guard approach. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She felt like a criminal. She yelled after the doctor. “Can’t you check the lab tests again? There must be a mix-up.”
But the doctor kept walking. She disappeared around a corner at the end of the hall.
Kat shuddered. If Harry really was poisoned and she didn’t do it...that left only one other person with twenty-four-hour access to Harry. Hillary. But even she wouldn’t go that far. Would she?
“Kat?” Harry’s voice increased in pitch, agitated. “Take me home.”
The security guard stopped and studied his feet, again avoiding eye contact. He stood near the nurses’ station, only a few feet from Harry. Probably waiting for her to leave.
“I can’t, Uncle Harry.” Kat’s face flushed as she fought back tears. This was not how things were supposed to be. One by one, everyone she cared about was stolen away. She stared down at the card Dr. Konig had given her. The words blurred through her tears; some community health organization with a long name. Why would they believe her? She turned on her heels to leave, feeling ashamed, though she really didn’t know why.
“What do you mean, you can’t?” His face reddened. “Don’t leave me here, Kat. You have to get me out of here.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Kat turned away, choked with emotion. Harry wouldn’t understand.
She stopped in her tracks and blinked, sure she was seeing things. Except she wasn’t.
Hillary strutted down the hall, bracelets jangling. She wore a long tailored black coat and designer boots with four-inch heels. No doubt bought on Harry’s credit. Hillary waved in the direction of the nurses’ station, then flashed her veneers at Kat. Kat ignored her.
Hillary rushed up to Dr. Konig. She smirked at Kat before disappearing with Dr. Konig into a small office. She shut the door behind her.
It was then Kat remembered the bitter-tasting orange juice in Harry’s fridge. She had tasted it the same day she had felt ill. She had just assumed it had spoiled.
Harry drank a couple of glasses of the juice daily; much more than Kat’s small sip. How long had it been spiked? She had to get her hands on that orange juice and get it tested. She just hoped she wasn’t too late.
Chapter 57
Kat sat across from Zachary Barron, preoccupied with Harry’s prognosis and Dr. Konig’s accusations. And, most of all, the orange juice at Harry’s house.
Zachary leaned back in his leather armchair, hands clasped behind his head. “Find the proof yet?”
“Yes and no.” Kat related the events in the hotel room with Nathan and Victoria, leaving nothing out. “I don’t have the World Institute papers anymore, but it’s all documented in my report.” She’d quickly restored the lost version after leaving Harry at the hospital. She’d be dammed if she would let Zachary delay reporting Nathan’s Ponzi any longer.
“When you get those World Institute documents of Nathan’s back, we’ll discuss the next steps.” Zachary stood to dismiss her.
Kat wasn’t leaving. He couldn’t use the documents as an excuse to delay the inevitable.
“Zachary, you can’t keep pushing this out into the future. You’ve got enough proof without the World Institute documents—they only add another layer. We both know Edgewater’s a Ponzi scheme. You owe it to your investors to report it now.”
“I’m not sure owe is the right word, Kat. Look at this.” Zachary flipped his computer monitor around so Kat could see. “I’m up ten percent since yesterday. Ten percent. I’m trading for my own account, and I’ll use all my profits to replenish the fun
d’s losses. Give me another week and the investors will have every penny back, and more. I’ll make them whole—like none of this ever happened.”
“Something like this can’t go unreported.” How Zachary could possibly make back billions in less than a week? Even if it was possible, why hadn’t he already done that with the fund previously? None of his previous trades even came close to that kind of return. Or, they wouldn’t have had if they’d been actually executed. “It’s not a game, Zachary.”
“Of course it’s a game. The whole monetary system is a game. Every country’s currency gets manipulated. Surely you’re not that naïve? I’ll report Nathan’s fraud, but only once I’ve made all the investor money back.”
“Zachary, these are real people. With real losses. They deserve to know immediately. Now—not in two weeks.”
“You think I don’t know that? My investment in the fund is bigger than anyone’s.”
So that was the reason. Now Zachary’s about-face made sense. It was all about self-interest.
Zachary walked around the side of his desk. “Look at it this way. As soon as we expose Nathan, they’ll shut down the fund, freeze Edgewater’s assets, and the losses will be permanent. Edgewater declares bankruptcy, and the whole mess turns into years of lawsuits and court battles.”
Kat shook her head. “You can’t be serious.”
“Of course I’m serious. I’ll get the money back first. Nathan’s not going anywhere. He’ll still be charged, but at least the investors won’t be ruined financially.”
“How can you possibly make that much money back in two weeks?”
“It won’t be easy, but it can be done. The whole global financial system is all artificial. My trading. The valuation of each and every country’s currency. Even the World Institute’s global currency, whatever they decide to peg it at. It’s completely removed from the actual value of things, and has been for decades. Look at this.” Zachary pulled his wallet from his back pocket and extracted a dollar bill. He dropped it on the desk. “What do you see?”
Game Theory--A Katerina Carter Fraud Legal Thriller Page 24