liabilities.”
“The liabilities are trivial. And Jonathan was the only asset.”
“Not really. There’s a client list I bet other guys like Jonathan would love to get their hands on.” I didn’t mention that Alena had already handed it over to me with hardly a thought. “Took him years to develop, and by definition, every name is a prospect.”
Appolonia blanched a little at the implication of that, but nodded thoughtfully.
“Sam thought he could be assigned the task of assessing the quality of the list—this is the part that appeals to me—as a means of putting a value on the operation as a whole. We might be able to sell the company, Appolonia, not simply liquidate.”
“I have plenty of money, Gabe.”
“I know, but why leave anything on the table? I want you to have all you can out of this terrible tragedy.”
He said it like he really meant it. It struck me that Gabe had more than a professional interest in his client. Which was okay with me. I wanted the best for her, too.
“So, what do we need to do?” she asked.
“Simple,” I said. “Hire me as a consultant. You don’t have to pay me, just confirm I’m working for you if anyone calls. Tell them I’m transitioning Jonathan’s business. That’s the kind of thing consultants do. Transition things.”
“I also like the part where we don’t pay him,” said Gabe, attempting a little joke.
“Okay?” I asked.
Appolonia looked at me in that calm but studied way she had.
“You don’t think you’ll learn anything about Jonathan’s death. But you want to try, is that right? It’s not about financial gain for any of us.”
“Don’t forget they almost killed me, too. And messed up my friend Jackie. If I don’t try I’ll feel like a bum. That’s all.”
“I wouldn’t want you to feel like a bum.”
“Good. So that’s it. Gabe ll handle the paperwork. I’ll let you know what I find out, either way”
“I don’t suppose there’s any harm in it.”
“So it’s settled,” said Gabe, reaching for his briefcase to pull out some forms for me to sign. Johnny-on-the- spot.
“Just one question for you, Sam,” said Appolonia.
“Sure.”
“Why so long? This happened months ago. Why the new interest?”
I didn’t have a good answer for that, but I tried to answer truthfully, the best I could.
“I’ve had some trouble in my life. I don’t need any more. In fact, avoiding trouble has become my life’s vocation. Then this thing happened. I guess I tried to pretend it didn’t matter, but it does.”
“A. knight errant.”
“Oh, no. Don’t make me into a nice person. I’m not. I’m doing this for my own reasons.”
“I could say the same thing about myself.”
“Good, then we’re square.”
“We’re square,” said Appolonia as she rose from her chair and floated out of the room, leaving me with Gabriel Szwit, who watched her with the eager hope I’d seen in the eyes of devoted retrievers. I felt sorry for him. He didn’t know how hopeless it was for him.
Not yet, anyway.
—
I spent the rest of that day cutting bird’s mouths into rafters to finish framing out the roof of the addition. It was warm, but a cloud cover held back the worst of the sun. I drank a lot of water and worked at a steady, deliberate pace. Eddie hunkered down under the grandiflora hydrangea by the breakwater and kept watch. I tried to clear my mind of everything but dimensions and construction theory, but it was hard to do. Jonathan Eldridge had a way of creeping onto the site and slowing progress.
I was about to go down the ladder to get a beer when Jackie Swaitkowski pulled into the driveway. She was in Bobby’s claptrap Toyota pickup. She got out and waved at me with a manila envelope.
“I got your message about the client list,” she said as I led her to the chairs and beer cooler. “It’s all here. Alena divided it into hostile and non-hostile, an easy task since there’re only three hostiles listed.”
We sat down, and after digging out Heinekens for both of us, I read through the papers. There was a name, address, email and dates of engagement for each client. Only eighteen of them. That surprised me.
“Me, too,” said Jackie, reading my mind. “Pretty exclusive club. Smells like big money, not just investors, but PE types.”
“PE?”
“Private equity. Large individual investors. Guys looking for unconventional opportunities, large positions, start-ups, that stuff. I emailed Alena, who said as much. Jonathan was paid a fee, a percentage of assets invested, to uncover opportunities and vet companies clients might already be looking at. Sounds like fun.”
“You’d hate it.”
“Probably.”
“So, Ivor Fleming’s a hostile. And a woman. Joyce Whithers.”
“Owns a restaurant in Watermill. Alena just said ‘rhymes with rich.’”
“And a guy named Butch Ellington.”
“Jonathan’s brother.”
“Ellington?”
“Real name’s Arthur Eldridge. Changed it just to piss off his brother, according to Alena. A play on Butch Cassidy and his mother’s maiden name. For reasons unknown.”
“But he was a client.”
“As Alena put it, blood and water and all that.’ They managed his retirement account. She said Butch had plenty of money. Successful artist. But pretty whacked out, which I guess goes with the territory. Nothing like Jonathan.”
“The wonder of genetics.”
“Ivor Fleming’s got a house out here, in Sagaponack. Alena gave me an address and a phone number.”
“Have you tried to reach the Fed who took all the computer files?”
“Warming up to it. Need a good shtick.”
I told her I’d been retained to valuate Jonathan’s business. She could play my lawyer.
“I thought I was your lawyer.”
“My financial consultant lawyer.”
“It’ll take about a half a second for him to tag us as the only survivors of the bomb blast. He won’t like it.”
“Then show him a little tit. That always works.”
“Okay Good idea.”
We drank our beers for a while in silence, watching the sailboats out on the Peconic try to make some headway in the turgid summer air. Then Jackie noticed the gray Audi A4 parked in Reginas driveway.
“Hey somebody move in?”
“I hope not.”
“That’s neighborly.”
“Hate crowds.”
“That looks like Amanda’s car.”
“It is.”
“Oh, yeah. It’s her house now. Actually, it’s her peninsula. And the peninsula next door and all parts in between.”
“Not this part.”
“You knew this could happen.”
“Happen?”
