Mason recognized another flaw in the David Evans theory. Whoever tried to kill him by tampering with Gina's private elevator had to have access to the room that housed the elevator controls. Evans didn't. Arthur Hackett did. That same person also had to have a special relationship with Centurion, the kind of bond that made Centurion set Mason up for the car-jacking and crack-house tour.
Both Evans and Hackett knew Centurion through Sanctuary. Evans was, for all practical purposes, Centurion's lawyer, while Hackett was his investment advisor. Either or both could have known that Centurion was running drugs and illegal adoptions through Sanctuary. For an instant, Mason tried to remember whether he'd ever seen Evans and Hackett together, his best explanation now being that they were one and the same person. Like Superman and Clark Kent, only both of them bad guys.
In every scenario, Mason decided, Trent was probably a victim of circumstance or complicity. Given his winning personality, Trent was a problem that found a permanent solution.
Mason, apologizing to his arteries, picked up a hamburger and fries at a fast-food drive-through, eating in his car, kept company by rain that had kicked up from spitting to steady, spilling the fries when his cell phone rang.
'Boss, where are you?' Mickey asked.
'In a parking lot near 33rd and Main plucking French fries out of my lap. Why the hell haven't I heard from you? What did you find in Trent's office?'
'Whoa, Boss! No need to get cranky on me here. I'm putting in my billable hours.'
Mickey was right. He was taking out his frustration on Harry and Mickey and they weren't trying to kill him. He took a breath. 'Sorry, Mickey. The days are running into each other and I'm running out of days. What do you got for me?'
'Bupkis from Trent's office,' Mickey said.
'Mickey,' Mason said gently. 'Irish kids don't do Yiddish. It's like me saying top of the morning, governor.'
'Thanks for the reminder, Boss. I didn't find squat in Trent's office. How's that?'
'It sucks, but it sounds better,' Mason said, swallowing his disappointment. 'What else have you been doing since last night?'
'Staying on task, like my teachers used to say. You told me to follow the money and that's what I've been doing.'
Mason stuffed the last chunk of hamburger into a paper bag and sat up, catching the excitement in Mickey's voice. 'Okay, Mickey. Give it to me.'
'I started with the IRS forms for both Emily's Fund and Sanctuary. I broke down the compensation paid to employees, directors, consultants, the works. Guess who the big winners are.'
'Centurion Johnson, for one,' Mason answered. 'I'd guess Nix came in at number two.'
'Half right, Boss. Centurion was number two. David Evans was number one. He was knocking down legal fees and investment consulting fees. Between both gigs, he was taking out almost half a million a year.'
'Real money for real people,' Mason said.
'That's the good news. The bad news, for Evans anyway, is that he was canned the day before Gina was killed.'
'How did you find that out?'
'I went down the list of Sanctuary's board members until I found someone that wanted to talk. A guy named Ransom Stoddard.'
Mason said, 'Why do I know his name?'
'He used to run a string of suburban newspapers, sold it to a national chain, and made a pile of dough.'
'Why was he willing to talk to you?'
'I caught him at a good time. He was half in the bag and shitting his pants about the directors getting sued after what happened last night at Sanctuary.'
'Did you get him down on tape?' Mason asked.
'No, but I did get him down to the bar. The guy has a taste for scotch.'
'Did he say why Evans was canned?' Mason asked.
'He said it was Gina Davenport's idea. She accused Evans of skimming from Emily's Fund, then falsifying the IRS reports to cover it up. She said he was probably stealing from Sanctuary too.'
'Evans blamed Gina for the phony IRS reports,' Mason said. 'At least that's what he told me. An easy shot to take since Gina was in no position to argue. Evans showed me the amended reports he claimed to have filed. The guy is slick. I wonder why word of this hasn't come out.'
'Evans was putting on a full-court press to be reinstated and was blaming Gina for the skim. He flashed the amended IRS reports and told the board only a stupid crook or an innocent man would turn himself in to the IRS. Stoddard says that the board was afraid Evans would sue, so they were trying to make a deal with him.
Guess who the board picked to negotiate with Evans.'
Mason asked, 'Who?'
'The chairman of Sanctuary's investment committee, Arthur Hackett.' Mason whistled. 'Don't do that, Boss. It's like chalk on the blackboard. Irish guys whistle. Jewish guys say holy shit.'
'I'll remember that,' Mason said. 'Evans says he borrowed the money to settle Max Coyle's case from Gina Davenport. Samantha said the promissory note was legit. He probably forged Gina's signature on the note.'
'Wouldn't surprise me,' Mickey said. 'If half of what Stoddard said is true, there's no way Gina would have loaned Evans a dime.'
'If Evans paid Max with stolen money, Max will have to give it back. Which means we lose our fee. This case is getting too expensive.'
'Don't ask me for my share. I spent it already,' Mickey said.
'You still have that passkey to the Cable Depot?' Mason asked.
'Burning a hole in my pocket.'
'Don't lose it. Meet me there.'
Mason's cell phone rang again.
'Nobody's home,' Harry said.
'It's a big house. Maybe they're in the basement or upstairs and didn't hear you knock.'
'I knocked. I rang. I called. Nobody's home. I'm getting too old for this. I knew better. I should have stayed put,' Harry said, not sparing himself.
'Forget it,' Mason said. 'Did you check the garage?'
'Yeah. Carol drives a new Lexus. It's in the garage. Arthur drives the Mercedes. It's gone.'
'They probably went out to eat. They'll be back,' Mason said.
'If you believed that crap, you wouldn't have sent me looking for Carol. I'm going to call Samantha.'
'And tell her what?' Mason asked. 'That the Hacketts aren't home and I think Arthur may have taken Carol out to kill her? Samantha will quit taking your calls.'
'You got a better idea, I'm listening.'
'Last night, they split up, Carol went to see Evans, Arthur went to see Paula Sutton. Maybe they went back tonight, this time together. Take a run up north and check on Paula. She was not in a good mood when I left her a little while ago, but Blues made friends with her dog.'
'What kind of dog?' Harry asked.
'Doberman.'
'Figures. I hate Dobermans. Blues had a thing for them. We busted this meth dealer one time, had a Doberman. Guy turns the dog on us, figuring it was going to tear us a new asshole. Blues did that clicking thing with his tongue like he was talking in code and the dog practically humped his leg on the spot.'
'Mention Blues's name to the dog, maybe it'll remember.'
'Where are you going?'
'Cable Depot. Mickey is meeting me there. I'm going to take another tour.'
'What about Blues?'
'He's around doing his guardian-angel thing. I'll tell him to drop by Evans's place. It's only a few blocks from the Cable Depot. Stay in touch.'
'Right,' Harry said, still beating himself up with a heavy tone.
