by C. G. Prado
“Done. You do whatever you need to do and I’ll fire off an email.”
With that, Charlie went to his laptop and quickly typed a short email to Sommers, asking how she was and where. He sent it and almost immediately received an error message saying the recipient was unknown. As Charlie had assumed, Sommers no longer had a Meredith email address. He went for the pinot noir.
Chapter 27
The Fourteenth Friday
Charlie had slept well and awoke Friday morning feeling he should accomplish something. He thought about his new paper but wasn’t moved to work on it. He went down to breakfast and was just finishing when Kate drifted into the kitchen. As usual, nothing was said until she was well into her first cup of coffee. Charlie then offered to scramble her some eggs but she responded that toast would do. He made her toast and went to shower and shave.
At his office Charlie braced himself and checked his email, expecting the usual deluge of student queries. He glanced down the list of new messages and got a surprise. There was an email from Sommers:
Dear Charlie, I should have contacted you before this, but I’ve been very busy and also have spent some time sorting things out in my head. By now you must know I left Meredith. It may seem to have been sudden, but I thought about it a lot before resigning. I was passed over for promotion and felt I was going nowhere in the department. I’d been approached by Winston Tech before, so I contacted them and they made me an attractive offer. I had nothing keeping me in Kingsford, so I took it. I apologize for not talking things over with you, but I wanted to think it all through on my own and make up my own mind. You may have tried to contact me, but I gave up my Meredith email account and pretty much everything else in Kingsford. I do hope we’ll stay in touch, though, and do let me know how you’re doing with the case. All the best, Janice.
Charlie answered with a brief note, saying he’d provide more details later, sent the email, and was glad to see there was no problem with the address on the one he’d received.
The other emails forgotten for the moment, Charlie mused about Sommers’ email. The long and short of it was that it looked like he was back to suspecting Berger. Sommers’ message struck him as genuine, and that she had sent it at all supported that feeling. The question was, how might he find Berger?
Admitting he had no leads, Charlie finished his email, gathered his notes and books, and went to his class. Later, on his way to the Club for lunch, Charlie wondered if he was being realistic or clutching at straws. Could Berger really be the third party? Was she up to running Kelsey and McDermott? Or, for that matter, getting Giacomo to kill McDermott? Somehow she looked less likely, now. Was it her age? Was that why Sommers had seemed a better bet? All that was really clear was that there had to be a third party. Somebody had to sic Giacomo on McDermott and then pick up the tab for his lawyer and his sons’ expenses. Sommers had looked good because Giacomo’s funds dried up just when she left, but it didn’t feel right, at least not now.
Lunch was pleasant enough, with the conversation varying a good deal and some good jokes. After lunch Charlie didn’t feel like thinking about the case anymore. When he got home he suggested to Kate that they try the Pasta King, a restaurant that two people at lunch had been recommending. It was part of a chain, so when it had opened several months earlier, Charlie had ignored it, but the two who spoke well of it seemed to know what they were talking about. Kate, of course, was more than willing.
When Charlie and Kate got to the Pasta King, the place was already half full, but they were given a good table and both studied the menu.
“Dr. Douglas? Charlie?”
Charlie looked up from the long list of pasta dishes and was startled to see Berger standing there in a Pasta King server’s uniform.
“Kim? What are you doing here? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you.”
“I was canned at Raymond, Teller. I worked for the manager here when I was doing my degree and he owned another restaurant and he gave me a job.”
“You moved, too. They had no forwarding address.”
“I had to move; can’t afford that apartment now, and I didn’t want any follow-ups. But I should get your order.”
Kate and Charlie both ordered cannelloni and glasses of chianti and Berger went off to place the order. After a few minutes during which she served another table, Berger came back.
“I was wondering why you were trying to contact me.”
“It had to do with Janice Sommers’ sudden departure.”
“Departure? I don’t know anything about that.”
“She left Meredith, and Kingsford.”
“Wow. She didn’t tell me anything about it.”
Charlie again thought that either Berger was a terrific actress or she really hadn’t known about Sommers. Just then they were interrupted while Berger went to get their orders. She returned with the cannelloni, went back for the wine, and was about to leave them to their lunch when Charlie spoke.
“Look, I’d really like to have a conversation with you. Are you free any on Monday?”
“I only work the dinner shift on Monday, so I could meet you for lunch or in the afternoon.”
“Great. Come to the Club for lunch. Make it one o’clock so you can sleep in.”
“Okay; see you then.”
Berger went off to a table where four people had just been seated and Charlie and Kate had their dinner. Charlie’s snobbish attitude toward the Pasta King evaporated. The cannelloni were excellent and well worth having again and even more surprisingly, the house wine was quite respectable. Kate agreed. They finished, Charlie wrestled with the question of a tip for Berger, decided to leave what he would otherwise have left, and they went home.
That night Charlie admitted to himself that unless he was very surprised on Monday, he was less and less confident that Berger was the third party. But he’d have to hear what she said about being fired.
Charlie woke up Saturday morning determined not to think about the case until Monday. He and Kate had a quiet day, going out only for their usual Saturday lunch. The next day, Sunday, was equally quiet and they didn’t go out at all. It wasn’t until he was dropping off to sleep that Charlie’s mind turned to the case, Berger, and what he might learn the next day.
Chapter 29
The Fourteenth Monday
Charlie woke up with a smile on his face. The smile was for the coming lunch with Berger. He had a feeling things were going to be resolved. He got up, had breakfast, and went to shower and shave. When he finished he went back for a second cup of coffee. Kate was in the kitchen having coffee and looking like she was ready to talk.
“Anticipating lunch?”
“Definitely. I’m hoping the change in Berger’s prospects might prompt her to be more candid. I’ve got a feeling this will be a productive meeting.”
Soon after Charlie drove to the department, got his books from his office, and went to his seminar. His suggestion regarding a late lunch with Berger had been prompted more by wanting to give himself plenty of time after the seminar than worrying about her sleeping in.
As usual the seminar consumed Charlie’s attention and there were questions after, but he was at the Club in plenty of time. Charlie got a table for two in a corner of the dining room and sat down to wait. Berger arrived at precisely one o’clock. He waved her over and offered her a glass of wine. She asked for riesling and Charlie ordered two. They spent a few minutes talking about the menu and them placing their orders. The wine arrived and Charlie got to it.
“I was very surprised to learn you’d left Raymond, Teller.”
“I didn’t leave on my own; they fired me. And I know that my chances for another brokerage job in Kingsford are now zero. It’s a quite a story and I’m so fed up I think it’ll help to tell you the whole thing. I know you’re curious about it. Anyway, it starts with that bastard McDermott.”
“Okay, Kim; before you go on, just let me say that I’ll respect your confidence where I can, but if you tell me
something that has to do with McDermott’s murder or the scam, I may have to pass it on to the police.”
“I understand that. I’m not concerned. There’s nothing the cops can get me for. What I did was strictly in-house and I’ve paid for it by losing my job. The reason for it all goes back years and even if it makes me look bad, I very much doubt the cops would be interested.”
“Fine; go ahead.”
“It’s simple, and stupid. When I applied to Raymond, Teller I had my degree in computing science, but I didn’t think that would be enough to get me the job I wanted so badly. What I did was lie on the application. I claimed I also had an M.B.A., and I sort of did. Over the last two Summers of my program I did one of those Mickey Mouse internet courses that got me a worthless M.B.A. No decent brokerage or any other company would take the degree seriously, but what I did was say I got it from Meredith. It was no trick with what I can do with computers to download and alter a copy of the M.B.A. degree. I put the fake in my file and presented it with all the legitimate stuff to Raymond, Teller. I doubt they looked at it twice and I got the job and was doing very well until McDermott entered the picture. I met him at a public lecture on computing and hacking where he asked a bunch of really good questions that gave the speaker trouble. I talked to him after and made the mistake of giving him my card. Then, a few months later, he got in touch and told me he knew about my fraudulent M.B.A. and he’d keep quite if I provided him with a little information. I didn’t know what to do.”
At this point Berger looked as if she was going to break down, but she sipped some wine and went on.
“I’m sure what he did was hack into Raymond, Teller and check my credentials. I’ve been careful to put “MBA” on my cards and other stuff, but never the source. No need to, anyway. What McDermott wanted was information about some of our business accounts and I gave it to him. He offered me money but I said no to that. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I also knew that if I took money for it, it would be worse. In any case, he didn’t offer much. What he wanted was to be told about accounts placing new auto-sell orders totaling more than fifty grand. When he got killed I cried with relief. Then I was curious about what had happened, in case someone else took over, you know? That’s why I was so glad to meet you and learn a little about what was going on.”
“Were you contacted by anyone else?”
“No; I never heard anything more.”
“So what happened with Raymond, Teller?”
“While I didn’t hear any more myself, they did. Someone sent them an anonymous letter about my M.B.A. and they canned me. Thank God nothing was said about the info I was giving McDermott, or at least I’m pretty sure nothing was said, since I was fired for lying about the degree and they didn’t say anything about doling out information.”
“Have you any idea who might have ratted you out?
“Not a clue. The closest they came to saying anything was that they got the information from ‘a reliable source’ and then checked for themselves. So, I’m out of a job and close to broke, which means my plans to do a doctorate are over, at least for the foreseeable future. I saved some money from my salary and bonuses, but a lot went on my mother and what I’ve got left is my fallback money. I’ll work at the Pasta King for a while and then try to get a better job in computing.”
“Okay, let’s get to the heart of all this. As you know or guessed, I thought you were working with McDermott and Kelsey. I even thought it was your scam and you’d gotten them into it.”
“I know you were suspicious, and you were right to the extent that I was providing McDermott with data, but I certainly wasn’t running the show and I never took a nickel from them.”
“Now, did you ever have any suspicion Janice Sommers might have been involved?”
“Janice? No. That never occurred to me and I don’t see it now.”
“The only reason I thought it was possible is that Giacomo’s money stopped just about when she left Kingsford.”
“Giacomo’s money?”
Charlie realized Berger didn’t know all the details about Giacomo’s involvement and proceeded to explain.
“And you thought it might have been Janice who got this Giacomo to shoot McDermott and was paying him off? No; no way. I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“I thought it a possibility; I didn’t think it likely. As I said, my thinking turned on the coincidence in timing: she takes off, Giacomo’s money dries up. I admit, though, that it was a pretty thin reason.”
“I really, really don’t believe she was involved. But mainly I can’t imagine Janice setting up a murder like that.”
Charlie and Berger talked a little more but he believed her about her role and decided that she most likely didn’t know anything else of use. Charlie wished Berger luck with looking for a new job and they arranged to let one another know if either learned anything new about the case. Charlie got the bill and offered Berger a ride, but she said she was going to visit a friend in computing science. Charlie went back to his office, disappointed at the little he’d learned.
Chapter 30
The Fourteenth Tuesday
Monday night Kate and Charlie had rehashed the case after he’d told her about his meeting with Berger. Their conclusion was that it seemed Sommers was out of the picture and that Berger’s role had been minimal and no help in determining the identity of the elusive third party. Charlie admitted that the reason for discounting Sommers was entirely intuitive and could well be wrong, but thought they had it right. As something of a test, he emailed her after having breakfast, telling her what he’d concluded and stressing how he’d been struck by the coincidence of her departure and Giacomo’s money problems. He knew he was being provocative, but that was part of his intention. He dressed and went off to his epistemology class.
When Charlie got to the Club the first thing he noticed was that Baynes was at the Club table. He sat next to Baynes and joined the general conversation. When both were finished with their lunches Charlie suggested going down to the bar for a brandy. Baynes quickly agreed. Once seated and served, Charlie filled Baynes in on everything he knew so far.
“So it looks like if you’re right about Sommers, you’re at the proverbial brick wall.”
“Precisely. I’m sure there’s a third party, but I’m clueless as to who it might be.”
“Any chance that reporter, Dingwall, might have learned something?”
“He hasn’t called. I suspect he’s moved on to other stuff.”
“Just how much do you think is missing?”
“I really don’t know. My rough guess, from what I’ve been told, is that it might be a couple or three million, but that’s a very rough guess.”
“Funny; that doesn’t sound like a lot these days.”
“I know, but you have to remember what it means to who has it and to who lost it.”
“Right, right. What about all the recent stuff we’ve heard about ‘transparency’? Don’t banks have to reveal a lot more these days about secret accounts?”
“I think that applies mainly to Swiss banks. My understanding is that a number of Caribbean banks still play the numbered-account game and keep quiet about it.”
“Look, you give the reporter a call and I’ll do a little digging into Sommers’ situation. I’ll call you tonight or early tomorrow. Okay?”
Charlie agreed and they finished their drinks and left the Club. Back in his office Charlie phoned Dingwall, who of course wasn’t in but would return his call, according to the receptionist who’d answered.
It wasn’t until nearly four that Dingwall returned Charlie’s call. He was neither rude nor obviously impatient, but Charlie understood that as he’d suspected the reporter had no further interest in the case. He told Charlie that he’d learned nothing new, but then had not been pursuing the matter because his editor thought it was old news.
“Doesn’t the missing money interest anyone?”
“It’s in the hands of the police’s fo
rensic accountants now, and from past experience I can tell you it’ll be months and months before they come up with anything, if they ever do.”
Charlie thanked Dingwall and hung up, hoping that Baynes was having better luck. He next worked through some questions emailed him by students. It was while doing so that he received a response from Sommers:
“Charlie, I’m not surprised you’re still on this thing, but believe me, I don’t know any more about it. I can see your suspicious mind connecting my leaving and whatever happened with this Giacomo, but though I kept it quiet, my departure was planned months ago. I’m oddly flattered you think I could be so devious, but it’s just not on. Do let me know how things work out—if they ever do.”
Charlie wasn’t surprised and was relieved that Sommers hadn’t taken offense at his email. He closed the message and was wrapping up when the phone rang. He hoped it was Baynes, but it wasn’t; it was Dingwall.
“Professor, an odd coincidence. A while after I spoke with you my editor told me that Giacomo is going before a judge tomorrow afternoon. I don’t know if this is the slated hearing or something else, but I’m going to be there. If you’re interested, and I think you are, be at the courthouse at 2:30. I’ll see you there.”
Charlie was delighted that something was happening and waited to hear from Baynes. At a little after five he gave up and went home. Over a glass of chardonnay he told Kate what had happened. They were just trying to decide what to do about dinner when the phone rang. It was Baynes.
“Charlie. I have some reassuring news. I have a contact at Winston Tech and learned two things of some importance. First of all, apparently Janice was offered a job a year or two ago when she gave a lecture there at a computing conference. Secondly, she is there now and the arrangements began months ago. I didn’t call you earlier because I was waiting to hear from my contact about one more relevant thing. She emailed me not five minutes ago. Apparently Sommers had her new department’s help in find a small apartment. The point is she’s not living high. If she had access to major money she likely would have taken a pricey apartment near Winston. That didn’t happen. She’s a good forty minutes away by bus. I really think she’s on the level.”