“Does he have suspicions?”
“They always have suspicions.”
“The next topic,” Webb interrupted forcefully, “will be the election.” He pointed down at Coleman. “Give us an update, Elbridge.”
Coleman cleared his throat. He hadn’t spoken since the meeting had started. “There isn’t much new to report. We continue to run strong, especially in the western part of the state and on the Eastern Shore. Senator Walker has a lock on inner-city Baltimore. There really isn’t anything we can do about that. The battle will be won or lost in the Baltimore and Washington suburbs.”
“Won or lost?” Mohler was suddenly annoyed. “Does that imply that the election is still in doubt? I thought the trend was positive. Last I heard we had gained nine points in the last six weeks.”
“The trend is positive.” Coleman shot back. “I’m very confident. I just don’t want to underestimate Malcolm Walker. He is a resilient man, as we’ve discussed this evening.”
Admiral Cowen tapped the table for attention. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I like what we’ve got going here. I’ve heard tonight that we stand to make an incredible profit on GEA, and that’s great, but we need to keep this thing in place. Not only because of the profit potential, but also for patriotic reasons. I don’t want to sound too much like a military zealot, but we must maintain the integrity of the black budget. We can’t allow the liberals to lay it open. That would make it impossible to develop weapons in secret. That could compromise national security.” He turned to Webb. “Senator, it sounds like Malcolm Walker is going to try to drop a bomb tomorrow. I hope you have effective countermeasures planned, because we’re going to need them.”
All eyes turned to Webb.
Webb’s expression was steely. “Don’t worry. After tomorrow Malcolm Walker may never call another press conference in his life. He’ll certainly wish he hadn’t called this one.”
Chapter 22
Hot water coursed down Jesse’s body, gently massaging and relaxing her tired muscles. A nice hot shower felt so good at the end of a long day. It would put her right to sleep.
Steam rose slowly from the shower floor, enveloping her, and she closed her eyes, concentrating on the tiny droplets pounding her skin. It was hypnotic, and her mind drifted back to the restaurant earlier this evening—and Todd. He had been devastated at her rejection. She had seen it in his face instantly, and his reaction had tugged at her heart. But Becky strongly agreed that Jesse had given the right answer. That Jesse still wasn’t ready to date him.
Jesse turned off the shower and squeezed water from her long hair, twisting it into a ponytail on one side of her neck. She lifted a large, thick towel from a hook on the wall as she stepped over the side of the tub and dried herself thoroughly. Finished, she tossed the towel onto the sink and moved quickly into the small apartment’s single bedroom.
The formal dress hung from the top of the closet door by an embroidered hanger, and Jesse stopped for a moment to admire it again. The dress, delivered today to the apartment complex management office, was a gift from Elizabeth Gilman. Also in the beautifully wrapped dress box had been an envelope containing an invitation to a black-tie affair Elizabeth was hosting for the governor. Jesse moved to the dress slowly and touched the material. Silk. It must have cost a fortune. It was, of course, totally improper for her to accept it. Government employees had to adhere to strict regulations with respect to gifts. She gazed at it. Well, maybe she’d wear it to the governor’s affair, then send it back.
Jesse moved away from the dress, and as she did, she glimpsed her reflection in the full-length mirror standing in the far corner. She put her hands on her hips and pivoted her body to both sides quickly, scrutinizing herself. Slender shoulders, thin waist, long toned legs, and a behind that filled out the seat of a pair of jeans perfectly, even if she did say so herself. Jesse turned to face the mirror. She wouldn’t mind having larger breasts, but then didn’t almost every woman feel that way?
The Persian cat rubbed against her ankles. As Jesse bent down to scratch its chin, the doorbell rang. Instinctively she covered her body with her hands and arms. Who could that be at this hour? Again the bell rang. She hurried to the bed, picked up her ankle-length terry-cloth robe, and slipped into it as she walked quickly toward the hallway.
In the middle of the darkened living room she stopped. It was five minutes after midnight. Why would anyone come to her apartment now? She took one more step toward the door and stopped again. Be careful. Neil Robinson’s words. Had the man who had chased her at Neil’s house finally found her? But why would he bother to ring the bell? That could give her time to climb down the fire escape. Of course, maybe that was what he wanted. Someone else could be waiting at the bottom of the fire escape. It was darker in the back. A better place to finish what he had started the other night.
Jesse moved slowly over the thick carpet to the door and pressed her eye to the peephole. But she could see nothing. It was too dark. She could illuminate the outside light, but then her caller would know she was at the door. The man had been willing to shoot out a car windshield. He might think nothing of firing through a door. For several seconds she stood in the apartment foyer, frozen, uncertain of her next move.
Finally she shook her head. There was just no reason to take chances at this point. Over the last few days she had convinced herself that the man was no longer searching for her. But that was silly, actually stupid, she realized. No one fired at another person with the intent to kill and then gave up the pursuit so quickly. It would be irrational to think that. It was time to call the police.
“Jesse.” The voice quietly called her name. “Jesse!” Louder this time.
“David?”
“Yes! Hey, can I come in?”
Instantly she flipped on the outside light, pulled the chain across the lock, turned the deadbolt, and tugged the door open. He stood before her, still dressed in a suit and tie. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Well, that’s a helluva greeting.”
“Get in here.” She reached out and grabbed his forearm, laughing a relieved laugh as she pulled him into the apartment.
From behind his back David produced the sweater Jesse had worn Saturday night on the sailboat. “You left this in my car.”
“And you decided to bring it to me now?”
“Well, I was working late, and your place is on the way home for me.”
“No it isn’t.”
“When I take the long way home it is.”
She smiled. He was quite charming sometimes, she had to admit. “I never should have let you pick me up to go sailing,” she teased. “I never should have let you see where I live. God, you’re probably a stalker.”
“No, German secret agent, remember?”
“Oh, right.” She pulled the robe more tightly around herself. “So why did you really come by?”
“Elizabeth is going to ask you to meet a few more people at Sagamore. If those interviews go well, she’s going to make you an offer right away. You’d join after finishing school. All of that’s off the record, but that’s the deal.”
Jesse brought her hands to her mouth. “You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not. I found out late this afternoon. But she’s going to ask you to meet these people very soon. Several of them are going out of town for a while, and I guess she wants you committed to Sagamore now.” Why, David couldn’t understand. Jesse was bright, but there would be lots of other candidates to choose from. “Anyway, I thought you might want me to go over these people’s backgrounds. Some of them are kind of quirky, and it’ll help to know a little bit about them before you meet them. I realize it’s late, but it sounded as if Elizabeth was going to ask you back pretty fast. Maybe even tomorrow. I’d do this in the morning, but I’ve already got a breakfast meeting and it may go quite some time.”
“
It was so nice of you to do this for me.” Without thinking, she kissed him on the cheek.
“I just thought it might help.”
“Absolutely.” She held up a finger. “Give me just one minute, can you? I’m going to put some clothes on.”
“Do you have to?”
“I’ll be right back,” she said, laughing as she moved back down the hallway toward her bedroom. “Make yourself comfortable. There’s beer in the refrigerator.”
David watched her disappear into the bedroom, then walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. He scanned its contents, pulled out a Michelob, and set it down on the counter. As he was about to twist off the top, he noticed a dark brown folder lying on the counter next to the stove. In the upper left-hand corner of the folder was a white label marked simply “Elbridge Coleman.” David twisted the cap off the beer, took a long sip, leaned back against the sink, and stared at the file.
Jesse took off the robe, dropped it on the bed, then quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. A few more interviews. If they went well, she’d be offered a job at Sagamore. At Sagamore Investment Management Group, one of the most prominent firms in the money management business. Sara wasn’t going to believe it. Jesse could hardly believe it herself.
She sat down at the dressing table, picked up her hair dryer and flicked it on. Instantly the appliance’s loud hum drowned out everything else. And then her heart skipped a beat. The file. It was on the kitchen counter.
She threw the hair dryer to the floor and ran for the living room. As she turned the corner of the hall, David was coming from the kitchen, beer in hand. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself,” he said, then took a swallow from the bottle. “Are you okay? You look a little unsettled.”
“I’m fine.” Suddenly she realized she hadn’t exhaled in what seemed like forever. She let air out through her mouth slowly, trying not to make her alarm obvious.
His eyes moved down her body as he put the bottle on a table and sat down in a chair. “You look great.”
“Thanks.” Her pulse was racing.
“You sure you’re okay?” David took another sip of beer.
“I’m fine, really. Let me get something to drink too. I’ll be right back.” She walked through the kitchen’s swinging door, then to the counter next to the stove. The file from Neil’s house was still there and didn’t appear to have been touched. But there was no way to know if David had gone through it. If he had looked inside, he would have made certain to put the file back exactly as he found it.
“What are you doing in there?” David called.
“Just getting a beer. Be out in a minute.”
“Okay.”
Jesse hid the file in a cabinet next to a box of cereal, then pulled a beer from the refrigerator and headed back into the living room.
David smiled at her as she sat down on the couch opposite his chair. “I have a confession to make, Jesse.”
“What’s that?” Fear ripped through her. Was this going to be about the file? What would she say?
“Elizabeth really is going to ask you to interview with some more people,” he said. “That’s on the level. But, well, I came by for another reason too.”
“And that is?”
David hesitated. “I was hoping we might have dinner again sometime soon.”
Jesse placed her beer down on the coffee table, then pulled her knees to her chest without answering.
David sensed her discomfort immediately. “Are you worried that if we go out, Elizabeth might disapprove? That she might not make you an offer because of it?”
He had read her mind. “That thought had occurred to me.”
“What if the situation was different? What if you weren’t interviewing for a job with us? Would you go out with me then?”
Jesse nodded. “Yes.”
“What if I told you that Elizabeth wouldn’t mind us going out at all? That she’s actually said to me that we’d make a nice couple? Would you feel different about it then?” David picked up a business card lying next to the phone and tapped it on the tabletop carelessly.
Jesse thought about his question for a moment. “I guess it would be okay then.” She focused on the business card David was now gazing at. “Don’t take this wrong, but I’d like to hear it from her.”
David didn’t answer. He was still staring at the card.
“Did you hear me?”
The card indicated that the woman had a Ph.D. in psychology. “Who’s Rebecca Saunders?”
“A friend,” Jesse said quietly. She wanted to grab the card from him, but she knew that was out of the question. David was too smart for that. He would recognize her anxiety immediately.
“A friend?” There were numbers scratched all over the card—obviously appointment times.
“Yes.”
“Hey, Jess!” The loud banging on the front door startled both of them. “Jess, open up!”
“My God.” Jesse jumped up from the couch. “What is this tonight, Grand Central Station?”
The banging persisted. “Jess, come on! Open the door!”
She recognized Todd’s voice. “What is he doing here?” She hurried to the door and opened it.
“Hey, gorgeous.” Todd was clearly excited.
“Hi.” Her voice was cool. This was going to be a terribly awkward situation.
“Don’t be so happy to see me, Jess. I know it’s late, but I think you’re really going to be…” Over Jesse’s shoulder Todd saw David coming toward the door. “Oh, Jesus.” The enthusiasm drained from his voice. “I’m sorry.”
Jesse brought a hand to her face and shook her head. “It’s all right.”
“I’d better get going.” David moved to Jesse and kissed her cheek. “If Elizabeth calls you, call me right away. Tell my secretary to pull me out of my meeting if you have to. I’ll give you the lowdown on the people you’re seeing.” He and Todd exchanged the same curt nods they had outside the IRS building, then Todd stepped aside and David passed through the doorway.
“Thanks, David,” she called after him.
He waved without looking back as he descended the apartment complex steps.
Jesse turned around and moved back into the apartment. Suddenly she was exhausted.
“I really am sorry, Jess.”
“It’s okay.”
“Looks like I got here just in time,” Todd murmured to himself.
“What?”
“Nothing. Hey, I won’t keep you. It’s just that I found out something pretty interesting about Elbridge Coleman, and I wanted to tell you right away.” He pulled out a notepad from his back pocket.
“You couldn’t call me?” Suddenly she was worried. He was coming on way too strong. Becky was right.
“I thought you said you were worried about talking on the phone.”
She looked up. That was true. “I did,” she said apologetically. Instantly she felt guilty for questioning him. For thinking that Becky had been right about him. “What did you find out?”
He shut the door and moved several steps into the apartment. “I have a broker friend who’s been nice enough to lose me a decent amount of money over the last two years. He feels kind of bad about it, so I asked him for a favor.” Genuine excitement filled Todd’s voice. “He was only too happy to oblige.”
“And?”
“That file you got from Robinson’s house mentioned something about investigating the initial public offering of Coleman Technology. That was one of the reasons he had pulled the corporate tax returns. Robinson mentions in his notes that the price for the stock seemed very high. I asked my broker friend to check it out. He works for Legg Mason here in Baltimore. Legg Mason wasn’t part of the syndicate selling the shares, but he has friends at other firms that were.”
Jesse nodded. “Go on.”
&
nbsp; Todd flipped several pages in the notepad, studied them for a moment, then began. “It turns out the offering was handled by only a few small brokerage houses. None of the big bulge-bracket firms like Morgan or Merrill Lynch were involved, just some small-time players, bucket shops, in places like Seattle and San Antonio.
“My friend confirmed for me that the price was very high for a company involved in the defense industry, especially in light of the list of investment banks selling the shares. They just weren’t very powerful firms. They didn’t have the breadth of investors a Morgan or a Merrill would have, so they shouldn’t have been able to command such a high price.”
“That’s interesting.” Jesse nodded. “But I don’t think it’s enough to nail Elbridge Coleman for something other than getting a good deal.”
“It gets better. My friend at Legg Mason had a conversation with a broker at one of the firms handling the Coleman underwriting, a firm by the name of”—Todd checked the notepad once more—“Zarb & Co. It’s in Phoenix. Apparently even the brokers at Zarb thought it was a strange deal. The shares had already been presold before they got their hands on them. Essentially all they had to do was write tickets for names a senior person at Zarb had given them. Usually the brokers have to call everyone from their blue-haired great-aunts to the President of the United States to sell shares. This deal was already done when they got the shares.”
“Orchestrated, in other words,” Jesse said.
Todd nodded. “And the buyers of Coleman shares were midsize industrial companies, not mutual funds or retail investors that typically dominate the buy side of the IPO market.”
“Can your friend get information on any of these firms that purchased Coleman shares in the IPO?”
“I’m way ahead of you, Jess. The guy at Zarb did a little more digging. At least three of the small companies that bought shares of Coleman were all themselves owned by a common holding company. He’s getting more information on the holding company. You know, who actually owns it. Sometimes with these corporate shells it takes time to figure all that out.”
The Inner Sanctum Page 18