“It was poor judgment on my part, I admit.” He spoke directly to Westwood. “But there is an opportunity to do some real good here. Lepage could be the key to taking down an international fraud network that’s scammed millions from unsuspecting investors around the globe.”
“That doesn’t excuse running roughshod over our internal procedures,” Denault countered in a raised voice, as though he was running the meeting. He seemed to realize he had overstepped as he spoke the words. Westwood looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes in the silence that followed, then turned back at Charlie.
“Tell me more about Lepage.”
Charlie proceeded to lay out the details, as Denault sat, quietly seething, next to him. When he got to Lepage’s decision to co-operate, Westwood held up a hand.
“And you’re sure his willingness to co-operate is genuine?”
Charlie nodded. “I don’t blame you for being skeptical. I asked myself the same thing, but I really don’t think he’s trying to string me along.”
“Because he’s in danger himself?” Westwood asked, to which Denault starting nodding vigorously.
“I’d say he’s desperate to save his own skin.”
“I disagree,” Charlie said, prompting a furrowed brow from the ambassador and a look of sheer contempt from Denault. “I really think this coma shook him up, and changed his perspective.”
“You can’t be serious,” Denault scoffed.
“I would say he was willfully blind before, or maybe worse. But now I do think part of it is him realizing that what he’s involved in is wrong.” Charlie paused. “I know it sounds corny, and maybe a bit naive, but I believe it.”
“Well, say you’re right, and we decide to proceed, what’s the next move?” Westwood was sitting back on the sofa now, the interrogation phase of the meeting apparently over with. Charlie relaxed a little while Denault moved closer to the edge of his seat, not liking the direction the conversation was heading but having no way to control its course.
“We’re supposed to meet Kimura this evening,” Charlie said.
“Who’s we?” Denault wasn’t moving on so easily.
“Me and Lepage. Inspector Kobayashi will be there, behind the scenes — Hudson, too, of course.”
Westwood shook his head. “I can’t have you directly involved with the yakuza, Charlie. You’re a consular officer, not a cop, and you’re my responsibility.”
“But —”
“No buts, Charlie. It’s a non-starter.” Westwood shook his head. “You can go along provided you’re safely out of the firing line. I’ve asked Hudson to flesh out the coordination with the Tokyo Police,” he added, sending a shock wave of fear down Charlie’s back.
“But they’re already in the loop. Kobayashi’s going to be at the advance meeting at Lepage’s apartment tonight.”
“It seems that your friend Kobayashi suffers from the same inability to understand chain of command as you, Charlie,” Denault said with sufficient glee to warrant a frown from Westwood that quickly shut him up. Charlie still had to marshal all of his self-control to stop himself from slugging his immediate superior.
“As I said,” Westwood continued, “Hudson is working with the Tokyo Police to determine the makeup of the team that will attend tonight’s meeting.”
Hearing the words, two thoughts occurred to Charlie. The first was that the meeting was a go, and that regardless of his procedural lapses, Westwood wasn’t going to pull the plug on the whole thing. The second was the distinct possibility that a broader discussion with the Tokyo Police might alert Kimura and her associates that the meeting was a trap. He had to hope that wasn’t the case, especially for Lepage’s sake. He felt ill as he imagined trying to explain to Lepage how, in less than twenty-four hours, the tight little plan he and Kobayashi had hatched had been taken out of their hands. Would Lepage trust Hudson and whoever Kobayashi’s replacement might be?
“There really isn’t any alternative, Charlie,” Westwood added. “You can understand that, surely?”
He nodded but chose to say nothing, following Westwood’s lead as he stood and made his way to the door. “I know things happened fast.” Westwood put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “And I can understand why you might not have thought through all of the procedural angles to this thing. No harm, no foul.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Besides,” he added, “you’re still a key player in all of this. Lepage trusts you. You need to be our liaison now, make sure he’s on board with Hudson.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will.” They shook hands and Charlie started for the door. Westwood called out after him. “And Charlie?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Regular updates, all right?”
Charlie smiled, despite feeling nothing but unease. “Of course.”
CHAPTER 36
Charlie felt anxious as he got off the subway at Omote-sando Station and glanced at his BlackBerry. He was relieved to see no new messages since he had slipped out of the office twenty minutes ago, and he reminded himself he wasn’t doing anything wrong, at least technically. He had decided to come to Lepage’s apartment early, to give him a heads up on the new arrangement with Hudson. The RCMP liaison might be pissed that he had gone alone, but as long as Lepage was onside, everything would be fine. He had tried to contact Kobayashi with no success and wondered whether she had been sandbagged by her superiors in the same way he had. He hoped that she wouldn’t face any disciplinary fallout for helping him.
The afternoon light was fading as he took the steps up to the top of the pedestrian overpass that crossed the Omote-sando Avenue and joined the constant flow of commuters going from the station toward the glitzy shops and high-end residential buildings on the other side. A few minutes later, at the door to Lepage’s building, he buzzed up and waited impatiently for a few seconds before repeating the process. He glanced at his watch and confirmed that he was more than ninety minutes ahead of the appointed meeting time, but something about the silence from above made him nervous. He scanned the board, found Farnsworth’s name, and tried her apartment. He was on his third attempt when he sensed someone at his side, turned, and saw Farnsworth standing there. Like the first time he had met her, she was clad in form-fitting running pants and a bright top. She removed her ear buds and pointed to the panel.
“I’m not there,” she said with a smile as she caught her breath.
“I came to see Rob, but he’s not answering.”
“You want to come up and try knocking on his door?” She took her key card out of her jacket pocket and swiped it on the keypad. He nodded and followed her inside and across the lobby to the elevators. “How are things going, anyway?” Farnsworth asked, wrapping the cord of her headphones around her hand as they waited for the elevator.
“We’re making progress, I think.”
Whether it was the shrug that accompanied the words, or his tone, he apparently wasn’t very convincing. “That doesn’t sound good,” she said as the doors slid open and they stepped inside. “I’ve been racking my brain since yesterday, but I haven’t been able to think of anything that might help.”
“Hopefully, we’ll have it all figured out soon,” he said, prompting another quizzical expression from Farnsworth.
“Are you sure everything’s okay?”
“It’s fine, really. It’s under control.”
They rode the rest of the way in an awkward silence, and then got out on the sixth floor. When they got to Lepage’s door, Charlie went to knock on it and saw immediately that it was ajar. His senses went on high alert and he stepped back.
“That’s odd,” Farnsworth said, looking on.
“Maybe you should go back to your place,” he suggested, but she put her hands on her hips in a stance that suggested she wasn’t going anywhere, so he pushed the door open slowly, then stepped inside. They both stood in the entrance in silence for a moment, before Farnsworth spoke.
“Oh Chris
t.” She put her hand over her mouth. Charlie was too busy surveying the disarray to speak, the scene all the more drastic in light of Lepage’s normally spotless apartment. Now, it looked as though a tornado had ripped through the place, overturning furniture, spilling the contents of shelves onto the floor. The kitchen cabinets and drawers were all opened. After a quick survey of the bedrooms at the back confirmed that there was no one there, Charlie and Farnsworth found themselves standing in the kitchen, staring at each other.
“What the hell happened here?” Farnsworth’s face was ashen.
Charlie was about to respond when he heard the unmistakable creak of the front door opening, then clicking shut again. Farnsworth backed up into a corner of the kitchen and Charlie followed, grabbing a large cutting knife from the counter as he did, putting his finger to his lips as they inched forward together from the corner and tried to get a peek out into the entranceway.
“Charlie?”
Charlie and Farnsworth exchanged surprised looks at the female voice, then Charlie stepped out of the kitchen to confirm it was indeed Kobayashi’s.
“What are you doing here?”
“I hoped to find you here …” She stopped when she spotted the knife in his hand, then Farnsworth emerging from the kitchen behind him.
“This is Rob’s friend, Elizabeth Farnsworth,” he said, putting the knife on the counter. “She lives down the hall. This is Inspector Kobayashi, with the Tokyo Police.”
The two women exchanged a hasty greeting.
“What happened here?” Kobayashi was surveying the chaos around them.
Charlie shook his head. “We just got here a few minutes ago.… Listen, we have to talk.”
Kobayashi seemed to know what he was about to say. “You’re off the case. So am I.”
Charlie ignored the look of confusion on Farnsworth’s face and pressed on. “I think I might know who’s responsible for this.”
Kobayashi shook her head. “If you’re thinking it’s Seger’s associate from Montreal …” She paused. “The TMP task force was aware of his arrival as well. No doubt they were informed by your colleagues at the embassy. In any event, we’ve had him under surveillance for the past several hours. He’s been at his hotel all afternoon.”
“So who, then? And where’s Rob?”
Kobayashi shrugged. “It must be Kimura, or her superiors.”
“So tonight’s meeting at the temple —”
“Is a waste of time,” Kobayashi said, cutting him off in a rare display of impatience, or anger.
Charlie struggled to understand the ramifications. The destruction around him suggested that Lepage had been taken in a violent struggle, by people who had grown tired of waiting for him to produce what they wanted so badly. It suddenly occurred to him that it might already be too late. “My God, you don’t suppose …” Kobayashi said nothing in the silence that followed. “What are we going to do?”
Kobayashi was frowning, deep in thought. “We have to get to Kimura while there’s still a chance. Give her something that will make her think twice about killing Mr. Lepage.”
“We’ve tried that,” Charlie said with a sigh. “We’ve got nothing to bluff with, just a page of scribbled notes and an unsigned postcard of Mount Fuji. His computer’s gone, too,” he added, gesturing to the study, which had housed Lepage’s computer, until whoever had broken in had snatched it.
“What’s all this about a postcard of Mount Fuji?”
Charlie turned to look at Farnsworth, who had been listening in silence to the whole exchange. He had almost forgotten she was there. “Nothing. Rob sent a postcard to himself before the accident, but even he couldn’t remember why. One of his ongoing memory gaps.”
Farnsworth looked at Kobayashi, then back at Charlie. He could tell by her face that there was something on her mind.
“What is it?”
“I got a postcard of Mount Fuji. I thought it was just sent in error. It was blank, and I didn’t —”
“Do you still have it?”
“I-I threw it in my recycling pile,” she said as Charlie breathed in with a hiss.
“Shit!”
“No, I mean I still have it.” Farnsworth was waving her hands. “I have a pile of paper recycling that I only get around to dumping every month or so. It’s in my apartment,” she said, motioning to the door. They followed her down the hall, closing Lepage’s apartment door behind them and entering Farnsworth’s apartment. She emerged from her home office a few seconds later bearing the postcard. She handed it to Charlie as Kobayashi looked on.
“It’s identical,” he said, flipping it over as Kobayashi leaned in and examined the postmark.
“It’s got the same postmark. The date is the same as well,” she added.
“Do you have the other one?” Farnsworth asked.
Charlie’s felt an immediate sense of despair at the thought that Lepage had taken it from his office. Then he saw Kobayashi pull out her phone.
“I have pictures.” She brought up the two photos she had taken in Charlie’s apartment and zoomed in on the stamp. “The dates are the same.”
“And from the same post office?” Charlie was straining to see over her shoulder.
“Yes.”
“But why would he send me a blank postcard, and send himself the same thing?” Farnsworth said as Charlie turned the postcard over and examined both sides in detail, looking for any difference from the one Lepage had sent himself.
“Can you zoom in on these numbers?” He pointed to a row of numbers in small font in the bottom right corner of the back of the postcard. As she did, he noticed there was a neat black line under the last ten digits, and it was difficult to tell whether it had been added by hand or sold that way.
“Here.” Kobayashi handed him her phone and he made out the numbers in the picture. There were also twelve, but they were different, and there was no underlining.
Farnsworth leaned in for a look.
“Are those numbers handwritten?”
“I can’t really tell. Here.” He handed her the phone and she enlarged the image as much as she could without distorting the numbers. “I think they are,” she said, excitedly.
“What are we looking at?” Charlie sensed that Farnsworth had a theory, and he was eager to hear it.
“I think these are country, bank, and branch codes.” She pointed to the underlined numbers on the postcard she had received. “I never even noticed they were there, much less paid any attention … they’re so small.”
“You mean, for a bank account? Do you know where?”
Farnsworth was nodding as she returned her attention to the pictures of the other postcard. “Cayman Islands. I don’t know which branch, but I think it’s Global Bank.”
“You are in banking?” Kobayashi asked, eliciting another nod.
“I deal with them all the time, that’s why I’m pretty sure but … wait a minute.” Farnsworth put the phone down on the table and raced off to her study, returning a few seconds later with a printed email. Charlie could see a series of numbers in the text of the email.
“Yes, there it is. This is from a different branch — the last four digits, but the first six designate Grand Cayman and Global.”
Charlie followed her finger to the ten digits that followed. “And is this the account number?”
She nodded. “Ten digits, just like on your photo.”
Charlie looked back and forth between the photo and the postcard, then back at the email. As he looked at the bottom of the page, his eyebrows shot up. “I’ve seen that logo before,” he said, pointing to the words Global Bank over the image of a spinning globe topped by a set of laurels. “In Rob’s desk … I saw some correspondence when I was looking for something to jog his memory. I’m sure of it.” He was looking at Kobayashi now, who was watching him intently. “So he sends two postcards on the same day — one to himself, and one to Elizabeth which, when read together, contain the account information.”
Farnsworth loo
ked suspicious. “Why would he do that?”
“He did not want all of the information in one place?” Kobayashi said, eliciting a nod from Charlie.
“Because he knew, even before the accident, that something was wrong, and that account number was crucial.”
“Except he forgot not only the number but the fact that he mailed this to me?” Farnsworth’s skepticism was obvious. Charlie shrugged. “I honestly don’t know, but if you’re telling me that these numbers could represent an offshore account, then that seems like an awfully big coincidence. Either that, or it really is the account number everyone’s been looking for.”
“Well there’s no need to speculate.” Farnsworth grabbed a pen, scribbled the numbers onto a pad, and opened her laptop.
“What are you doing?” Charlie watched as she opened a new email.
“I’m going to find out if it’s Rob’s account.”
Charlie looked at Kobayashi, who returned the same inquisitive look as his own. “Anyone can just email the bank and find out who has an account?”
“No, but I’m not anyone.” Farnsworth looked up at him with a grin, as she typed an email at lightning speed and then hit the send button with an emphatic click.
Charlie looked at his watch. “How long do you think it will take to confirm?”
“Not long,” Farnsworth said with a shrug, then pointed at the computer. “This gal’s not exactly a nine to fiver, if you know what I mean. If she has access to the information, she’ll get back to me soon.”
Charlie turned to Kobayashi, and whatever excitement he had felt evaporated with one look at the strained expression on her delicate features.
“I do not think the meeting tonight will proceed,” she said, gesturing toward Lepage’s apartment. “Someone has decided to accelerate the process.”
Charlie nodded but said nothing, unsure how to voice his fear that the reason they had snatched Lepage might have been that they had learned of the larger involvement, on both the embassy and the Tokyo Police side, in the meeting. He should have known that she could read his mind.
Remember Tokyo Page 27