“I didn’t forget,” Damien said. “I think I painted a clear enough picture. This guy is a jack of all trades.”
Lana was frowning. “If the FBI found evidence of all that, why isn’t Mr. Carson in prison?”
“They were investigating him for organized crime,” Damien answered.
“So?” Lana said. “Just because they couldn’t make a case for that doesn’t mean they should let everything else slide. You get him on what you can. One of the FBI’s most famous cases, that of Al Capone, is a perfect example. The gangster wasn’t convicted on his criminal activities—they got him on tax evasion.”
“Al Capone didn’t have Rita Faulk for an attorney either,” Damien commented dryly.
Lana hardened her eyes. “Obviously,” she said. “But what does that have to do with anything?”
“Simple,” Damien said.
Before he could elaborate, Jamie held up his hand. “Wait!” When he had their attention, he said, “I’d just like to point out that tax evasion is also a criminal activity.”
Lana rolled her eyes. “Technically, yes. But you know what I meant.”
Jamie nodded. “Just wanted to clarify that.”
“Thanks,” Lana said, sounding anything but appreciative. “Can we get back to the case now?”
With a short sigh and a captious look toward his partner, Damien continued. “As I was saying, Al Capone didn’t have Miss Faulk representing him. If he had, he may very well have walked. She got all the evidence in the Perry Carson case thrown out. Every last bit of it. Because,” he said, “the warrant the FBI obtained only authorized specific items to be seized.”
Lana slowly nodded. “Typical,” she said.
“Speaking of Miss Hot Shot Attorney,” Jamie said. “She been to see you yet?”
Lana shook her head. “And neither has Mr. Holloway.”
Damien shot her a puzzled look. “We saw him again yesterday afternoon and he still planned to come by, he said. From the way he talked, I thought he’d be here before lunch or early this afternoon.”
“Probably got tied up at his office,” Lana said, checking her watch. “I’ll give him another half an hour.”
“That reminds me,” Damien said. “It’s almost three and Sonny Pierson is due to arrive at the airport in a half an hour. Should we still pay him a visit?”
Lana nodded. “Definitely. It would be nice to identify the boss before I question Eric but that’s not looking too likely.”
“Why can’t you just question him tomorrow?” Damien asked.
“I need to do it today. If I get nothing more out of Eric, and we’re unable to find anything, I have to let him go. I don’t like that idea.”
“You still don’t trust him,” Jamie said.
“Not in the least,” Lana replied. “Problem is, I still don’t know if he’s guilty either.”
Jamie got it then. “So you’re hoping one of these guys will be able to give you something to lead you one way or the other.”
Again, Lana nodded.
“Well,” Jamie said, looking at Damien. “We should go then. Maybe Mr. Pierson will provide the answers we need.”
“Call me immediately if you find anything,” Lana called as they walked to the door.”
Checking the time again, she sighed. It was nearly three thirty now and still no sign of Holloway.
Making her way back to her office, Lana sat at her desk, stewing over the lack of progress. She desperately needed a break, something to tie everything together. Sighing again, she laid her head in her hands, elbows propped up on the desk.
“Detective Denae?” came a woman’s voice from the doorway.
Before looking up, Lana knew who would be standing there. But having never met the lady, she waited for her visitor to introduce herself.
“I’m Rita Faulk,” the woman said. “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Okay.” Lana wasn’t opposed to having a conversation—as long as it didn’t involve the attorney making threats against her or the Bureau.
The lawyer was standing just inside the doorway. Moving closer, she closed the door behind her, signaling this would be a private meeting.
“Have a seat,” Lana invited, motioning to the chair against the wall.
“I’m fine,” came the tacit response.
“Suit yourself,” Lana said, noting the change of tone now that they were alone. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I think you already know the answer to that, or you should, if you’re any kind of detective at all.”
“Why don’t you enlighten me, Miss Faulk?” I haven’t got time to play games.”
The attorney nodded. “Me neither. So, we’ll get right to it. Why are you investigating my client?”
“I’m not aware there is any investigation of your client,” Lana said.
“Oh, come on,” Rita said. “You can do better than that. I notice you didn’t ask who my client is, so obviously you are aware of the recent harassment he has experienced from your department. I’ll try again. Why are you investigating my client?”
“Yes, I know who your client is,” Lana acknowledged. “But, as I said, no one from the Homicide Detail is investigating him. And, as far as I know, neither is anyone else at the Central Precinct or even the entire Bureau.”
“How can you expect me to believe that?” the lawyer exclaimed. “Two of your own detectives were the ones asking questions.”
“Here’s what I can tell you,” Lana said. “Mr. Carson’s name surfaced as a person of interest in connection to an on-going investigation. I can provide no information beyond that.”
“This is the investigation into the recent rash of suicides at the Steel Bridge?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t comment on an on-going investigation,” Lana repeated.
“How about you listen then,” came the quick response from the attorney. “I know you are the lead detective on that case, the one you won’t comment on. The case involves the murder of Roselyn Wymer as well as the six jumpers who you have reason to believe did not commit suicide but were, in fact, also murdered. All this I know. Then, you tell me my client is a person of interest in this case. ‘Person of interest’ is code for suspect, and I will not stand for you to accuse my client of murder. Unless you have proof that you are willing to share, those accusations are unfounded. I’m serving you notice; if you persist in this unwarranted witch hunt, I will have no choice but to file suit on behalf of my client against you and the Portland Police Bureau for harassment, slander, and defamation of character.”
Lana calmly eyed the attorney, making a conscious effort to keep the surprise off of her face, all the while wondering how the lawyer had learned any of this.
Rita Faulk had made a career out of reading people’s faces and knew exactly what the detective was thinking. In answer to the unspoken question, she said, “I’m an attorney. I have my sources.”
Lana nodded, still bewildered. How could this lady have possibly known details of the case that had not been released? Knowing she would never get the answer to that, at least not from the attorney, she chose to let it go. Getting back to their conversation, she said, “As I’m sure you know, a person of interest isn’t necessarily a suspect. It is quite often simply someone with pertinent information critical to an investigation.”
“You don’t really expect me to buy that do you?” the lawyer said with an almost sneering smile. “If that were the case, you would have said so.”
Seeing Lana offered no response, the attorney repeated her warning. “Any further attempts to contact my client, Mr. Carson, by you, or the two detectives you sent yesterday, will be met with charges being filed.”
Lana bristled slightly, but managed to keep her temper in check. “As I’m sure you know, questioning a person of interest, or looking into their affairs, is not against the law and hardly qualifies as harassment.”
“If you feel the need to question my client, or look into any of his personal affa
irs, you will do so through me. Is that clear?”
“Are you seriously sitting here trying to coerce me, a member of the Portland Police Bureau, into not doing my job?”
“Your job is not to indiscriminately accuse people or go on a fishing expedition in hopes of finding something to pin on them. That is against the law and does qualify as harassment—as I’m sure you know.”
“Look, Miss Faulk. I understand your concern, seeing that your client was recently the subject of a lengthy investigation by the FBI and other agencies.”
“And subsequently cleared of any wrong-doing,” the attorney pointed out.
Lana looked the woman in the eye. “You and I both know that doesn’t mean he’s innocent, only that he has a good lawyer.”
“Are you trying to sweet talk me?”
“Not at all,” Lana answered honestly. “Just saying I know how the game is played.”
“Then you know you can’t possibly win, not with the current climate of public opinion regarding police brutality, harassment, and invasion of privacy.”
Lana shrugged. “Maybe. We’ll probably never know since your client is no longer a person of interest in our case.”
Rita shot her a surprised frown. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”
Lana gave the woman a blank look, and in her best impersonation of Nellie Langstrom said, “You didn’t ask.”
With a bewildered expression the attorney said, “Well, then I’m glad we will have no further issues.”
“However,” Lana continued, ignoring the lawyer’s attempt to control the conversation, “I too, know a few things. I know about Mr. Carson’s other businesses, the drug smuggling, his gun running, the prostitution, gambling, and even the human trafficking.”
“Good luck proving any of that!”
“I don’t have to prove anything. I have no intention of arresting him, so I won’t be in court. I do, however, have a few friends in the media.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Lana didn’t answer right away, then in a measured tone she said, “Well, I may, or may not, be able to beat you in a court of law. But you mentioned the public; how well do you think your client would fare in the court of public opinion if all this came out? While that may carry no criminal penalty, it just might affect his favorable treatment when it comes to his precious tax breaks.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would,” Lana said with a firm resolve. “I’m sure people would be very interested in learning their favorite home town philanthropist is not exactly man of the year material.”
Thinking a moment, the lawyer said, “How were you able to discover all this? Just yesterday, the two ‘servants’ you sent didn’t seem to have a clue about any of it.”
Lana shrugged. “I’m a detective. I have my sources.”
“Touché,” replied the lawyer with a slight smile. Then after a thoughtful pause, she laughed. “Since we’re no longer on opposing sides, I’ll give you a friendly piece of advice.”
“What’s that?” asked a slightly skeptical Lana.
“I know you have a man in custody, Eric Schmidt.”
“Yes,” Lana said with an expectant tone. Involuntarily, she leaned forward, telegraphing her sudden interest. Was this attorney, who seemed to have a lot of crucial information regarding this case, about to reveal the truth about the suspect?
Seeing the unmistakable signs of hopeful anticipation, Rita Faulk shook her head. “I have no idea if he’s guilty or not.”
Lana didn’t try to hide her disappointment.
“But if I were you, I’d look into Mr. Holloway a little closer.”
“Thanks,” Lana said, intentionally in a blasé tone. “But we have already checked him out.”
“You only ran a criminal background check,” Rita said. “I suggest you look further.”
“Why?” Lana wanted to know. “Did you have something specific?”
Rita gave a faint shake of her head. “Only that his company is not doing nearly as well as it appears.” Without waiting for Lana to ask, she explained. “I keep tabs on several local businesses for Perry Carson. He likes to be in the know when it comes to buyouts and takeover opportunities. Cascade Global was on our radar a few months ago as a possible candidate for Mr. Carson’s business acquisitions.”
“I see,” Lana said. “The two never got together, I take it?”
“No.” the attorney said. “Mr. Carson felt an investment firm would not be a good fit for him.”
Lana nodded. “How did you determine Cascade Global was in financial difficulty? Everything we’ve seen shows it’s a strong and robust company.”
“I’m not at liberty to disclose my sources,” the attorney said “But I assure you, this is very credible information.”
The two of them talked a few minutes longer, much more amicably than when their conversation had begun. Enjoying the company, Lana didn’t notice the time until Rita mentioned that she needed to be going.
“Oh!” Me too,” she said. I have a suspect in interrogation who’s been waiting for hours!”
“Should be willing to talk then, huh?”
“I certainly hope so,” Lana said.
Chapter Nineteen
As Rita Faulk left the office, Lana was unsure what to make of what the woman had told her about Holloway. She doubted the attorney would deliberately mislead her but there was still the question of whether the information was reliable. Obviously, the lawyer believed it to be accurate but if she were unwilling to cite her source, the claim of Cascade Global’s financial woes couldn’t be verified.
“Maybe I’ll have Jamie and Damien check it out,” Lana said to herself as she gathered up the folders on her desk.
“Have us checkout what?” came Damien’s voice.
“Oh! You’re back,” Lana said. “Did you talk with Mr. Pierson?”
“We did,” they said together.
“And?”
“Another dead end,” Jamie told her. “He’s got a solid alibi for every murder.”
Slowly, Lana nodded. “I’m not surprised.”
Damien nodded in agreement, then said, “How did your interrogation go?”
“Actually,” Lana said with a grim smile, “I haven’t gotten around to that yet.” Seeing the looks they gave her, she added, “Had a visit from a very feisty and cranky attorney.”
“Rita Faulk?” Jamie guessed.
Lana nodded.
“How did that go?” Damien said with a grin.
“Not bad, really.”
Ray jumped in to the conversation then. “At first, it was a little strained. But by the time Miss Fancy-Pants lawyer left the two of them were gabbing like old friends.”
“You were listening?” Lana exclaimed.
“I always listen,” Ray said. “Helps keep you out of trouble.”
Lana shook her head and then looked to Damien. “Well, I was going to tell you I’d fill you in on the details later, but I guess you can just ask Ray.” On her way to the door she called back, “Let me know if Holloway arrives. I still need to talk with him.”
“Okay,” Jamie said. “But just so you know, the guy is married.”
Lana rolled her eyes and kept walking. She hoped her suspect would be more cooperative this time. Considering he was about to be released, he certainly should be.
Opening the door to the interrogation room, she saw Eric, tapping his fingers on the table, impatiently waiting. He looked up expectantly as she entered. “About time.”
Lana ignored the comment. “Time to come clean,” she said, taking a seat across from him.
Eric tried to appear calm, forcing his face to remain impassive. But Lana noticed the anxious squirming and the shifting of his feet under the table. He’s nervous, she thought. That was good. A nervous suspect tends to make mistakes if he’s lying.
“Mr. Schmidt,” she began. “You’ve previously stated your involvement in the investment scheme, which resulted in the deaths o
f those targeted, was limited to hacking their accounts and stealing information. Information, which you passed along to an unknown ‘boss.’ You then used that same information yourself to create multiple credit cards and other online accounts in the victims names. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“You were not involved in their murders?”
“No.”
“Did you have any knowledge of the murders?”
“No.”
Lana continued the basic questions summarizing the prior story Eric had given. To each of her questions, Eric replied with short, simple answers, providing no new information, merely reiterating his previous account of events.
“Who hired you?”
“I don’t know.”
Lana raised her eyebrows. “So you lied to us in order to get a deal? You realize that would make the deal null and void, right?”
Eric shook his head. “I didn’t lie when I said I didn’t know the guy’s name, I don’t. But I do know that he is a prominent and well-connected person in the city.”
“But you don’t have a name?”
“No. I only spoke with him on the phone.”
“So, you’re sure it was a man?”
“I think so.”
“What did he say when he initially contacted you? Did he say he had a job or simply allude to it until you knew what he was talking about?”
“He said he’d heard I was a capable hacker and wanted to know if I would like a job.”
“Did he say where he had heard of you?”
“No, and I didn’t ask.”
“Who do you think he would have heard it from?”
“Probably someone at my school.”
“And that’s ITT-Technical Institute?”
“Yes.”
“Another student, you suppose? Or a teacher?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
Lana nodded, pausing to change her line of questioning. “Did you discuss price on that first phone call? Or any subsequent calls?”
“Yes. Well, not discuss really. He offered twenty thousand per person, and I agreed.”
“And did he provide a full list of names at that time?”
“Just one. Chris Tolley.”
Dead Broke (Lana Denae Mystery Series Book 1) Page 14