David Baldacci - True Blue

He edged open the door to the archives and looked around. No one was within view. He slipped out and walked quickly through the suite, out the door, and up the stairs back to the sixth floor. He was about to put the first flash drive in his computer when he noted the Post-it he’d stuck over the camera port.

What if they’ve hacked into my computer? I put the flash in and they’ll know what I’m looking at.

He slipped the device back in his pocket, grabbed his briefcase and jacket, and headed to the door. When he opened it he came face-to-face with Chester Ackerman and two security guards.

Ackerman held out his hand. “I would like your key card right now.”

“What’s going on, Chester?” Roy looked at the two beefy uniforms. “Who are these guys? Did you finally replace Ned like I suggested?”

“They’re here to ensure that everything goes smoothly.”

“Smoothly? I told you I’d let you know about my representing Dockery.”

“And I just called the courthouse and found out that you are his attorney of record and will be representing the killer at a presentment hearing tomorrow morning.”

“Why’d you call the clerk’s office?”

“Because I don’t trust you. And it seems my instincts were spot-on. Your card?”

Roy handed it over. “Can I at least get my personal things?”

“We’ll send them to you. And I think a search of your person is in order.”

Roy drew closer to Ackerman. “You lay one hand on me I own your houses, your cars, your retirement plan, and this firm.” He glanced at both guards. “You rentals want a piece of that?”

Each guard looked nervously at the other and took small steps back.

Ackerman snapped, “Fine, just leave the premises now, before I have you charged with trespass.”

“And you have a great day too.”

Roy walked out of the firm while lawyers and staff watched from every nook and cranny. He half expected them to start cheering when the door closed behind him. He passed Ned in the lobby. The man was slurping down a giant Coke.

“Hey, Mr. Kingman, did you see those two security guards who came in?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Everything okay?”

Roy jingled the flash drives in his pocket. “Oh yeah.”

ROY STOPPED at his condo, grabbed some things, and called Mace on the way over to Altman’s. He filled her in on what had happened, and she did the same on her conversation with Joe Cushman.

“Herbert is making like a seven-course meal,” she said. “But to tell the truth, I’m dying for a greasy burger and fries.”

“I’ll pick up some on the way. We’ll probably have to work through dinner anyway.”

He got there an hour later. They ate in the guesthouse in case Herbert happened by and saw them with charbroiled meat and salty fries dangling from their mouths. Mace finished off the last bite, took a long slurp of her Dr. Pepper, and sat back.

“Where are Alisha and Tyler?” Roy asked.

“Up at the main house being fed, among other things, couscous, pork tenderloin with a reduction sauce, and tempura green beans with a nice crème brûlée done in the classic style for dessert.”

“Did Herbert tell you that?”

“No, he actually prints menus every day. He dropped one off at the guesthouse. He was not happy to hear we were going to be missing his latest masterpiece.”

“I’m not sure a three-year-old is going to be into couscous and classic crème brûlée.”

“Oh, for Tyler he prepared his extra-special spaghetti with hand-formed meatballs and Rocky Road for dessert. I think Herbert likes having kids around.”

Mace had borrowed a laptop computer from Altman and during dinner Roy had been scrolling page after page of the content on the flash drives.

“Got anything yet?” asked Mace as she settled next to him.

“Nothing pops out.”

“Coffee?”

“Yeah, by the gallon, please.”

She made the coffee and carried a tray back in with the pot and two cups along with cream and sugar containers, and set it down on the coffee table. She poured out the beverages.

“Cream and sugar?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

She made it up and passed it to him.

Roy took a sip. “Good coffee.” He glanced up at her and smiled.

“What?” said Mace suspiciously as she held her cup.

“I don’t know, I guess I never pegged you as the domestic type.”

“I’m not, so don’t hold your breath waiting for the apron and string of pearls.”

“Still nice.”

Mace was about to shoot off another stinger but paused. “Yeah, maybe it is.”

“So you really think you need to go to Newark?”

“The lady lawyer freaked on me when I mentioned that Jamie Meldon had been murdered too after meeting with Diane. She knew him; that was clear.”

“But if you go there’s no guarantee they’ll see you.”

“And if I don’t go it’s a hundred percent that they won’t see me. At least if I make the trip I’ll have a shot.”

“Do you want me to go too?”

“No, you’ve got your hands full.”

“What about your work for Altman?”

“He has no problem with me chilling for a bit. He feels really guilty about Psycho. And he’s been spending a lot of time with Alisha. At least he can get his project off the ground with her.”

“What about the brother?”

“He was here and now he’s not.”

Roy was looking at the screen as he was talking to her. “Wait a minute.” He clicked a function key and split the screen with one document residing in each half.

Mace leaned forward next to him. “What is it?”

“On the left is a set of wire transfer instructions that Diane and I did for a deal in the Middle East. Well, the buyer was in the Middle East, but the seller was in Ohio.”

“What were they selling?”

“Manufacturing facilities tied to the automotive industry. They made things like windshield wipers, radiators, and stuff. It was part of a string of plants that were bought in five different states in a cluster sale. Happened after all the turmoil in Detroit. Total price was nearly a billion dollars.”

“There’s that billion number again. So what’s the problem?”

“Well, the closing instructions we wrote out show where, when, and how the money was supposed to be paid. There were lots of contingencies, recording of deeds for the land, requisite corporate filings with the various state commissions, that sort of thing. It also includes the ABA routing number, bank account, and other required money transfer information.”

“Roy, you’re putting me to sleep.”

“Okay, our instruction letter is on this side of the screen. Now, over here is the confirmation we got back from DLT.”

Mace scanned the page. “I’m no math whiz, but the numbers seem to add up.”

“Yeah, the dollar figures do, but look at that.” He pointed near the bottom of the page at a long number comprised of many digits.

“But isn’t that the ABA routing number you mentioned?”

“It is a routing number, but it’s different than the one on our instruction sheet, and I don’t know what it’s doing here. Now, I know the money for this deal was received by the seller, or else I can assure you we would have heard about it.”

“So what is that number? A mistake?”

“I guess it could be.”

“Okay, how does that help us?”

“I don’t know, I’m just sort of guessing here. It would be helpful to see the corresponding file or other supporting docs that DLT has.”

“So do we just go in and ask them for it?” Mace said sarcastically.

“Maybe there’s another way.”

“I’m listening.”

“It’s possible they don’t know I’ve been canned from Shilling. I just talked to someone from DLT yesterday to go over some details of a deal Diane and I were working on. If I call them and set up an appointment to go over there and meet, I might be able to sneak a peek at their records.”