Дэвид Балдаччи - The Collectors

Caleb added, “From what I was told afterward Jonathan was pronounced dead in the vault. He wasn’t even taken to the emergency room.”

Stone said, “The cylinder they removed with the label FM-200 was the one I focused on, for obvious reasons.”

“I’m not getting what you mean,” Reuben replied.

“The library’s scrapping the halon system. If I’m right and they brought in a cylinder full of deadly CO 2with the wrong label to disguise it, they wouldn’t have been bringing halon back to the library; that would have raised suspicion.”

“Right, they’d have to bring in the gas they were replacing the halon with. FM-200,” Caleb added. “And they took it out tonight with a bunch of halon cylinders. If we hadn’t been there, no one would’ve noticed.”

Stone nodded. “And I’m certain that the cylinder connected to the piping tonight was full of halon. The empty cylinder that had contained the CO 2was probably disconnected from the piping right after it was discharged. Then if the police happened to check, they’d find nothing out of the ordinary. They wouldn’t check every cylinder in the place, certainly. And even if they did check, they’d have to send it to Fire Control, Inc., for that purpose. I doubt they’d get an accurate answer back because whoever orchestrated this is obviously employed by the company.”

“The perfect murder,” Annabelle said grimly as she sat back down. “The question is why. Why would anyone want to kill Jonathan that badly?”

“That takes us back to Cornelius Behan,” Stone said. “Now we know that the lethal CO 2cylinder that killed DeHaven was switched for the halon. We also know that Fire Control is owned by Behan. The man obviously had DeHaven killed. Behan showed up at the reading room to see Caleb on the very same day the cylinders were removed from the library. I’m sure he was trying to determine if there was any interest in the nozzle And there must be some connection between Behan and Bob Bradley.”

Reuben ventured, “Maybe Bradley and Behan were part of the spy ring we think is operating here. Bradley comes to visit Behan at his home, and Jonathan saw or heard something he wasn’t supposed to. Or he might have seen something that tied Behan to Bradley’s murder. Behan found out about it and had him killed before DeHaven could tell anybody and lead the investigation to him.”

Stone said, “It’s possible. We have a lot of ground to cover, so we need to split up. Caleb, you go into the vault first thing tomorrow and check behind that air-conditioning grille for evidence of a camera having been placed there. Next examine the video surveillance tapes for people going in the vault.”

“What?” Caleb exclaimed. “Why?”

“You yourself said that whoever killed Jonathan would have to have access to both the library and the vault. I want to know who went in that vault a few days before DeHaven’s death and then after he was murdered.”

“I can’t just walk into security and demand to see the tapes. What possible reason would I give?”

“I’ll help you think of one, Caleb,” Annabelle said.

“Oh, great,” Reuben said under his breath. “First Milton gets to play with the lady and now Caleb. But moi ? Nooo.”

Stone continued, “Reuben, I want you to make an anonymous call to the D.C. police and tip them off about the CO 2cylinder. Use a pay phone so they can’t trace the call. I don’t know if they’ll take it seriously or not. And by the time they get there, it’ll probably be too late, but we have to try.”

Caleb said, “But won’t that let certain people know that we’re on to them?”

“Maybe it will,” Stone said. “But right now that’s the only evidence we have that DeHaven was murdered. After you do that, Reuben, I want you to take up surveillance on Good Fellow Street starting tonight.”

“It’s not the greatest place to spy on people, Oliver. Where do I post myself?”

“Caleb can give you the key and pass code to get into DeHaven’s house. You can slip in through the back without anyone seeing you.”

Milton asked, “What do you want me to do?”

“Your task is to find out as much as possible about any connection between the late Bob Bradley and Cornelius Behan. Nothing is too small to overlook.”

Annabelle said, “And what are you going to do, Oliver?”

“I’m going to think.”

As the others were leaving, Annabelle drew Caleb aside. “How much do you trust your buddy, Oliver?”

Caleb blanched. “I’d trust him with my life. In fact, I have trusted him with my life.”

“I’ll admit he seems to know what he’s doing.”

“He most assuredly does,” Caleb said loyally. “Now, you said you were going to help me get that video material. How?”

“You’ll be the first to know when I think of it.”

At ten-fifteen in the morning ESTthe state of New Jersey suffered its first earthquake in recent memory. The epicenter was Atlantic City, right where the Pompeii Casino rose from the Boardwalk. Jerry Bagger had erupted slowly at first. Warning gases and rising rock temperature started off when his $48 million didn’t appear at ten o’clock sharp. At ten past the hour, when he was told there was some confusion about the whereabouts of the money, even his musclemen started to retreat a bit from his presence. Five minutes later the casino king was told by his money guy, after contacting El Banco, that not only was the $8 million in interest not coming his way, but neither was his original $40 mil, since the bank had never received it.

The first thing Bagger did was to try and kill the messenger. His rage uncontrollable, he most certainly would’ve beaten the moneyman to death if his security people hadn’t pulled him off, pleading that the murder would be hard to cover up. Bagger next got on the phone and threatened to jump on a plane and fly down to El Banco and rip their hearts out one by one. The bank president challenged him to come, secure in the fact, he told Bagger, that he had an entire army guarding the premises complete with tanks and artillery.

They did send him an accounting that showed the first three money transfers had been received. And that funds from another account had been ordered transferred into Bagger’s deposit equaling a 10 percent return over two days. Then the amounts had been returned to Bagger each of the three times. The fourth wire had never reached them. When the electronic receipt Bagger’s wire department had gotten back was more closely examined, it turned out not to have the bank’s complete authorization coding, although it would have taken very close scrutiny to find the subtle discrepancy.

On hearing that, Bagger attacked the unfortunate head of his wiring department with one of the man’s own office chairs. It was revealed two hours later, after an intense evaluation, that very sophisticated spyware had been placed on the Pompeii’s computer system enabling the casino’s money wires to be controlled by a third party. With that revelation Bagger demanded a sterilized pistol and ordered the head of his IT department to report to his office. However, the doomed man was smart enough to make a run for it instead. Bagger’s men caught up with him in Trenton. After an interrogation that would have made the CIA proud, it was clear the man was not part of the scam, but had been duped. The only thing this earned him from Bagger was a bullet to the brain delivered by the casino king himself. Later that night the body went into a landfill. And still, with all that murderous energy released, the quake continued to rumble unabated.

“I will kill that bitch, do you hear me!” Bagger was at the windows of his office screaming this over and over to the people far below on the Boardwalk. He hustled back to his desk and took out her card. Pamela Young, International Management, Inc. He ripped the card to shreds and looked wild-eyed at his head of security. “I wanna kill somebody. I need to kill somebody right now, damn it.”