Дэвид Балдаччи - The Sixth Man

“I didn’t realize the IRS went all out for that kind of talent,” said Sean. “It’s not like you can compete with the salaries on Wall Street.”

“Edgar had no desire to go there. Don’t get me wrong. He probably could’ve come up with some derivative algorithm that would’ve made him billions. Or designed some software in Silicon Valley that would have made him equally rich.”

“But no interest?”

“He had his farm, his books, his numbers.”

“Numbers?” asked Michelle.

“Yeah. Guy loved numbers, what he could make them do. And he loved complexities. He could take a ton of different sections of the tax code – income, gift, estate, corporate, partnerships, carried interests, capital gains – and visualize how they all worked together. Did it for fun. For fun! Do you realize how remarkable that is? The tax code is a freaking nightmare. Even I don’t understand all of it. Not even close, in fact. No one does. Well, except for Edgar. Every page and every section and every word. Probably the only one in the country who did.”

“Pretty unique,” said Michelle.

“Oh, yeah. Made our little office stand out, I can tell you that. Other places wanted to snag him. I mean in the IRS system. They tried, but he was content. He didn’t want to move. Thank God for me. The performance bonuses I got because of that guy, well, let’s just say my retirement will be a lot better because of him.”

“I understand that he went to D.C. a lot,” said Sean. “Is that because he was the only one in the country who understood it all?”

Russell’s amiable expression changed. “Who told you he went to D.C. a lot?”

“Is that not true?”

“Depends on how you define a lot .”

“How would you define it?” asked Michelle.

“Once a week.”

“Okay, did Roy meet that standard or not?”

“I’d have to check my files.”

“Is the office here that big?”

“It’s bigger than it looks.”

Sean switched gears. “So he was working here when he was arrested?”

Russell leaned back and studied them both, his hands resting on his belly. Over his shoulder was a shelf full of thick white binders with sleep-inducing titles on the spines.

“And you say you’re representing Edgar’s interests?”

“That’s right. We were hired by his counsel, Ted Bergin.”

“Who I now understand is dead.”

“That’s right. He was murdered up in Maine near where Roy is being held.”

“So you’re technically no longer representing Edgar, then?” Russell smiled at what he obviously thought was a key and winning point in the debate.

“Actually, we are. Bergin’s law firm was representing him, and there’s another lawyer there who’s taken the case over. So the connection still holds.”

Russell, who did not seem to be listening to this, spread his hands. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Well, I was hoping you could tell me if Roy was working here when he was arrested.” He paused. “Or is the office too big to determine that?”

“I don’t need to tell you anything. You’re not the police.”

“By not telling us things you’re actually telling us a lot,” pointed out Michelle.

Sean added, “I’m sure the police have been by to question you. Why don’t you just tell us what you told them?”

“Why don’t you just ask them yourself? I’ve already told you enough. And I’ve got work to do.”

“It’s always nice to hear it from the horse’s mouth,” said Michelle. “I hope you recognize your role in the proceedings.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone.”

Sean sat forward. “Do you think he’s guilty?”

The man shrugged. “Probably.”

“Why?”

“These genius types. They’ve all got dark sides. Think too much. Not like the rest of us. So, yeah, he probably did it. Let’s face it, any guy who knows every reg of the tax code has to be some sort of a wacko.”

“Well, let’s hope you don’t get called for jury duty,” snapped Michelle. This drew a scowl from Russell.

Sean said, “Did you notice anything in Roy’s behavior that would have indicated he might have been a serial killer?”

Russell gave a fake yawn and said in a clearly uninterested tone, “And what sort of behavior would I have been looking for?”

Michelle pounced. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe a human head or two in the jellybean bowl on his desk. Subtle things like that, you freaking moron.”

A minute later they were being escorted out of the building by a security guard who looked about as tough as the accountants in the building. When he reached out to put a hand on Michelle’s back to urge her along, she snarled, “Touch me and die.”

The man jerked his hand back so fast he winced, as though he’d pulled a muscle.

Outside Sean sighed. “I love your interrogation approach, Michelle. So subtle, so sophisticated.”

“Almost makes you want to be wearing a badge again,” said Michelle. “That way they can’t kick you out before you get your answers, even if you’re a smart-ass. And that idiot was going to tell us nothing useful.”

“You’re right. He was stonewalling. Must be a good reason.”

“And Roy was most definitely not working for the IRS when he was arrested. Otherwise the guy would have just told us so. He’s hiding something. He tells us a lie, it comes back to bite him. He tells us nothing, nothing sticks to him later.”

They were about to get in Michelle’s SUV when the woman approached.

She was timid looking, with straight light-blond hair and glasses that fronted pretty blue eyes.

“Excuse me?” she said cautiously.

They turned to look at her.

“I understand you were here asking questions about Edgar?”

Sean said, “Did you know him?”

“We worked in the same cubicle zone. I’m Judy, Judy Stevens.”

“We were asking questions, although answers from your boss were hard to come by.”

“Mr. Russell doesn’t like to say anything that might come back to, you know…”

“Bite him in the ass?” suggested Michelle.

A smile crept to Judy’s face and her cheeks reddened slightly. “Yes.”

“But you don’t have that issue?” Sean asked.

“I just want the truth to come out.”

“And what do you think is the truth?”

“All I know is Edgar stopped working here over seven months before this nightmare happened. Before that he was here for eight years.”

“Where did he go?”

“Nobody really knows. He just didn’t come to work one day. I asked Mr. Russell but he told me it was none of my business.”

“Okay. Did you hear from Edgar?”

Judy lowered her gaze. “Edgar and I were friends. He… he was a nice person. Just very shy.”

“So did you hear from him?” Sean asked her again.

“He called me one night. Just out of the blue. I asked him what was going on, why he was no longer coming to work. He told me that he had another job, but he couldn’t say what it was.”

“Did he say why he couldn’t tell you?”

“Just that it was very sensitive. That was the word he used. Sensitive.”

“Did you hear from him again?”

“No. And from the way he was talking it seemed to me that his calling me was… was…”

“A risk on his part?” prompted Michelle.

Judy lifted her gaze. “Yes, exactly. A risk on his part.”

Michelle said, “Then he must really think a lot of you for him to take that chance.”

Judy’s face flushed with pleasure. “I thought a lot of him.”

Sean appraised her. “So you don’t think he killed all those people?”

“No. I knew Edgar. Well, I knew him as well as anyone did, I guess. He’s not a killer. He wouldn’t know how. It just wasn’t in his psyche. Even though he was so big, he was actually a very gentle man. If he accidentally stepped on a cricket it would make him sad.”